Our friend Angie is leaving Korea tomorrow. One thing she had to do before leaving: Ride the motorcyle with Whit!
Annyong. Bonjour. Hola. Hello.
I am one of those people who always enjoys life. I rarely complain (except when I am working) and I always can find happiness in small things.
But there are times when the amount of fun I am having is so great that I know in that moment there will never be another like it. That I must close my eyes for a second and take it all in, file it somewhere in the recesses of my brain and heart for the future when I find myself sitting at desk between 9 and 5 or eating yet another ham and cheese sandwich sans mayo for lunch.
The last time I felt like I had this much fun was when I was in France. Literally for a month straight I had so much fun that I was worried I had reached the pinnacle of merriment in my life at the age of 20. I would call home to Mom and Dad in a small room across from other students on payphones who were crying with homesickness and all I could say between explanations of the amazing food and wine was that I was having so much fun I did not want to come home. Believe me. I asked them for more money when I ran out. As you can see. They said no.
And not to sound too cheesy but it really is true, I also had that much fun when Whit and I got married two years ago. We spent the evening dancing to blue grass music with family and friends beneath a full moon and starry sky at that awesome tobacco barn just outside of Asheville.
And now, two years later, I’ve got that same feeling.
It happened Saturday when I spent the day with some great friends celebrating and mourning the departure of a fellow English teacher who is leaving after her one-year contract to go back home to Canada.
We hiked Gwangju’s best trails on Mudeung Mountain. There were six girls, including myself, and two boys. I’m sorry for the boys but it felt like a girls day as we took silly photos in golden Korean pampas grass and scaled trees just to see if we could hang upside down (My idea. Which was a bad one.)
And that night we joined all of our friends to see our friend Angie off with a night of Korean fun–dinner at our favorite shabu shabu restaurant, a Japanese dish very popular with Koreans, followed by an evening at the noraebang.
I know we’ve written about these singing rooms before and how ridiculously fun they are, but just so you are understand, they are SO. MUCH. FUN.
There was probably about 20 of us in the room with couches and a big TV with a karaoke machine where you can sing just about any pop song you want. In English or Korean. (We tried one Korean pop song, but it wasn’t pretty. Of course I could say the same about my English performances.)
From Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean” to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen,” we sang the night away, laughing and dancing as we serenaded our good friend to the Rolling Stone’s “Angie.”
It was a night I’ll never forget. I almost called home to ask Mom and Dad if I could stay longer. But then I remembered I have a lot longer than one month left!