another week...

I’m not sure I can write honestly that I had a better week than last but I do have some entertaining stories to tell, mostly about me and how humiliation just seems so inexplicably determined to follow me around. This is what I learnt about Korea, and myself, this week.

There is a K-Pop Tour bus – I will go on it. I think it sounds more exciting than New World Tour, Shingong Tour, New Shingong Tour, Anywhere Express Tour, Lovely Day Tour, White Tour, New Airline Express Tour or Gongbeok Tour.

Kim Yu-na, Korea’s figure skater darling, placed second to a Russian figure skater at the Sochi Olympics. Apparently, in the past this could have been a national disaster (athletes have previously apologized for “letting the country down” when finishing second or third). But this year, the wave of support for Kim Yu-na, irrespective of her result, was uplifting. Support for her efforts was palpable, particularly on social media with the phrase "Thank you,Yu-na" top spot for almost a day on Naver, South Korea's Google like equivalent. My favourite was the ending of the editorial in one of the daily newspapers: “Yu-na, we thank you and love you.” I like a country where the focus is on the athletes amazing and impressive achievements, not simply medals.

I wish I could figure skate.

When you get your hair done at the hairdressers, don’t feel intimidated by the fact that the two hairdressers sit down either side of you to spend the first thirty minutes doing their own hair. The next thirty minutes, in-between laughing at your hair, will be spent on applying their make-up.  When it finally comes to doing your hair, chair chat will be all about Kim Yu-na and they will hug you when you confirm to them that you are not Russian (because of the figure skating controversy). You will then enter their inner circle and spend two hours at the hairdressers, eating kim bap, drinking tea and engaging in conversation (that you don’t understand because it is all in Korean). They will then blow-dry your hair until it is full, high and coiffed just like a true Korean adjuma (maybe not so good if your next appointment is a photo shoot – see below).

Eating in department stores is a communal, culinary adventure. I ate next to a charming man in a very expensive looking suit and across from an elderly lady dressed only in fur and pearls. We had a lovely lunch together. He had noodle soup. She had bim bim bap. I had dumplings. We did not talk but we were happy.

That the refrain of the anthem for the Disney movie, Frozen, “Let it go. Let it go.” becomes incredibly annoying when your three year old runs around the house singing it non-stop (punctuated only by bouts of “I want an iPad.”).

Statistics to note about Frozen:

• it is now the second most viewed foreign film of all time in Korea;
• Korea is second only to the United States in terms of numbers having watched the film;
• "Let it Go" has topped all of the major music charts in South Korea, including being on  top of the Melon list (Korean music list) for two weeks - the longest ever for a foreign-language song and the song has spawned countless covers (see K-Pop covers of Frozen); and
• Frozen's soundtrack has now surpassed Les Miserables (a feat which no-one thought was ever possible as Korea loves Les Mis - check out this parody by the South Korea's Airforce from last year 2013 Youtube ROK Airforce Les Mis parody

Koreans don’t need more mobile phones, as bored man in mouse suit supposed to be selling mobile phones highlights. He had so obviously given up excitedly yelling about products in the shop and was now happy to just lounge about, using the microphone to practice his karaoke (quite possibly he was singing it “Let it Go” but I could not get close enough to confirm (irrational fear of all men in mouse suits)).

That you can drive with a witch’s hat type cone (used across Korea as a “Do not park here unless you pay man sitting in lounge chair somewhere nearby lots of money”) under the front right wheel of your car. But you can’t drive very well.

That Starbucks should have more square tables as I don’t like typing off round tables.

That I pose like a man. This week I had to get a profile shot taken. This would be my first professional photo shoot since Year 12, when I was 17 and my ridiculously good looking high school friends (them, not me) organised a group photo shoot with a professional photographer. My friends were (are) far too good looking and were easily able to stare down the camera and pose like a woman. I could not. To this day, I am still haunted by the photographer’s attempt to take a picture of me in a too tight red dress skulking (I can’t call it posing as it wasn’t) by the East Ringwood railway line. (Part of the blame lies with my Year 8 netball team, when we decided that we would be extra fast if we always caught and threw the ball with an open mouth. I have not been able to close it since when playing any ball-sport or when getting my photo taken.) 

Back to this week’s photo and I was expecting just a simple shot on a stool. How wrong of me. The good-looking 20 something Korean male photographer (just to add to the intimidation) wanted me to pose like a model, prancing around the set, contorting my face and body into various postures while he snapped away. We quickly discovered that I have only three poses. One with my arms crossed, one with my hands on my hips and one with my hands clasped at the front. All with my mouth open. He didn’t like any of these.  Question: what is more humiliating - being told you pose like a man or, when attempting to pose more “softly”, photographer trying to desperately stop himself from laughing and telling me to go back to posing like a man? 

Once the (painful) shooting was over, we then looked at the pictures on the computer to select a shot. Good-looking 20 something year old male photographer begins cropping. Then he starts typing words into Google Translator. I am not sure what Korean to English word he was searching for but when Google Translator kept throwing out words like: wide, tight, full, pretzel, big, ample, immense, broad, heavy, elephantine and whale-like, I think I got the picture. I have no need for Google Translator in my life. Then came the discussion about Photoshop. Where would I like it? What do I need from it? I said no, I would not like it. He said, in that Korean way of completely ignoring what you have just said, “Yes. I agree. You shall have it for your hair.” Sigh. 

  

Last lesson for the week: It's best to not leave the house with three children under seven if you are tired, grumpy, sick, just generally feeling not very happy as it will end in disaster. Actually, even if you are feeling the love it won’t last long when confronted with 7 year old screaming about a sore lip so can’t swim, 5 year old screaming about sore ear and needing to swim and 3 year old just generally screaming because apparently one sausage is not enough and she must have more (as well as an iPad for her birthday). I should take advice from Queen Elsa and  “Let it go.”