Birthday bash 2011

As I've grown older, birthdays have become less and less exciting.  In fact, they are downright dreadful now.  I'm moving steadily towards 30 years of age.  I can remember as a child thinking that 30 was the equivalent to the end of the earth.  It seems to me that someone as close to thirty as I am, should have their life figured out, or at least closer to an idea than where I am.  In my afternoon class, ( with 6-9 year old Korean age) one of the questions we have them practice is "What do you want to be when you grow up?"  When its my turn, my throat clogs up with anxiety.  There are so many things I would love to do.  I'd love to be a published author, I'd love to own a tea shop, and a restaurant.  I'd love to be a motivational speaker, a sustainability or a communication expert.  I'd love to work with poor women helping them start businesses. I'd love to work for a non-profit, or start a non-profit.  I'd love to be a mom and a grandma. I'd love to be an entrepreneur. At least these are all things I imagine that I'd love, but who knows for sure unless I try, and I don't know where to even start, (which is why I'm turning to grad school which may or may not be the best solution) but I know that I want my life to mean something.  I know that at my funeral (which I pray is later rather than sooner) that people can say that I had an impact on the world, that I made the world a better place to live and ( in my dreams) that I alone was the cause for world peace :)    But do you know what the kids say to me when I give them my answer? They say "Teacher, you are grown up."  And its true, kind of. At least in their eyes, I'm old. I've even given to saying, "I'm a grandma" when they ask my age.  I have come to realize through my years of anxious searching, that life is about the journey not the destination.  My aunt sent me this awesome quote recently- "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, but learning to dance in the rain." And this year, I will try to to remember to dance in the rain and not worry so much about the storm, and hopefully that dance will get me where I'm meant to go.

We celebrated my birthday, the weekend before my actual birthday in Seoul starting out at a Thai restaurant, followed by a cool hip bar called the Bungalow in Itaewon, the foreigner area, behind the Hamilton hotel, with swings and sand on the floor.  The drinks were overpriced, but the atmosphere was chill and inviting.

A delicious mojito.

On my actual birthday, the preschool took me out on a bizarre outing.  First of all, the bus driver of the students wanted to pay for my meal.  That might not sound so strange, except the man has only ever said one word to me, and that was something about trash (in Korean), when he asked me to throw something away for him.  Sarah, the manager of the preschool, said that he is very generous and loves to pay for teachers meals. We went to a Korean restaurant, but with slightly different food than I've had before.  They tried to explain it to us, but all we understood was that there was beef and fish. "Together?" I asked.  "It's on the same burner." they replied.  Basically, that's exactly what it was, beef and fish.  It was good, but kind of strange.  It was a fun evening however, and we all traveled there together on the school bus, which added to the silliness of the evening.  After wards, we invited a few friends who were in the village to come over and eat the Pineapple rum cake that my husband had made.  It turned out okay. It was a little dry, and ugly as the pineapples burned a little, but I really loved that my hubby wanted to make the cake for me.  It was very sweet.  And then as added fun, we all put on the UT (university of Texas) clothes that my mom sent us as a birthday gift to show her our (kyle and my) appreciation.

after we eat most of the meat, they add rice and make it a stir fry.

Happy birthday Kyle!

 Kyle was born on March 27th, 1984. I love Kyle's birthday- almost more than I love mine, and that's saying something because everyone knows how much I love attention. I love Kyle's birthday because without it, I wouldn't have my simply amazing husband.  We'd been discussing what to do as a celebration of Kyle's birthday, and had come up with few creative ideas.  The Monday before his birthday (the following Sunday) Kyle walks into the office and announces "We are a going paintballin for my birthday, and all you folks better sign up or else your fired!"  I wasn't actually at the meeting, but I assume it went something  like that knowing Kyle.


Saturday, was the day of the game, and all in all, we had ten people signed up for the celebration.  The two Irish girls keep threatening to shoot themselves in the foot so they could just surrender and not actually risk being shot.  My assurances did nothing to console their fears. On the subway on our way to the paintball match, a Korean vendor woman, selling decorative sweat band thingies, I don't really know what to call them, made a killing on the ten silly foreigners who decided that in order to play paintball, they needed to decorate their head appropriately.   We dressed up in camo, and were given helmets with ear coverings- a big improvement from the last time we played in Korea.  Half of the fun was taking pictures in our ridiculous outfits. The game itself was adrenaline filled, and a bit painful.

Kyle, on the left, pretending not to be a soft teddy bear.

Our group

Being silly

If you recall my last post about our paintball match last year, my husband shot me 7 times, however, the bruises were nothing in comparison to what I received this year, and once again, I have grounds on which to blame him for at least two of those broken blood vessels.  From the sidelines, the people who had either run out of amo, or had been shot out of the game, called out suggestions for those still in the game.  Often times, I didn't take a shot for the first half of the game, partially conserving my amo, and partially afraid to get shot if I looked around a corner. Kyle, who had run out of amo, instructed me to move to the next barrack as from where he stood, I was clear to do so.  I had seen someone shooting on the left of me, but he had a better vantage point and I thought maybe they had gotten out.  As it turns out however, Kyle was wrong very wrong indeed. As soon as I began running towards the location he specified, I was shot by not one gunner but several, and one from close distance.  I was shot five times within a span of three seconds.  It was painful, not as painful as a real bullet, but enough to throb the rest of the day.  Another bruise, however that I cannot blame on my husband was the one on my shin. I slammed into a stump with said shin on my run and slide behind a barrack as I tried in earnest not to be shot. It was as painful as a close-range paintball, if not worse, I have to say. 

Here is a picture of my thigh on the first evening after the game. You can see a white dot in the middle of the red circle.  I'm not sure why that is, but  all of my bruises from the bullets had the same marking.

this is that same bruise several days later.

Yet another bruise on my knee.  My other knee has a matching bruise.

On Kyle's actual birthday, we made breakfast tacos from scratch and then I used up every dish in the house to make him a sweet potato cake using a recipe, I got from my bff, Leslie, who LOVES sweet potato in every form or fashion.  It is similar to a carrot cake but with more sweet potato flavorings.  It was yummy.

 

Prep Time: 15 minutes
Bake: 40 minutes
Yield: Makes 2 dozen

Ingredients

• 1  cup  coarsely chopped pecans
• 2  cups  sugar
• 1  cup  butter, softened
• 4  large eggs
• 1  (16-oz.) can mashed sweet potatoes
• 2/3  cup  orange juice
• 1  teaspoon  vanilla extract
• 3  cups  all-purpose flour
• 1  teaspoon  baking powder
• 1  teaspoon  ground cinnamon
• 1/2  teaspoon  baking soda
• 1/2  teaspoon  ground nutmeg
• 1/4  teaspoon  salt
• Cream Cheese Frosting
• Garnish: coarsely chopped pecans

Preparation

1. Place pecans in a single layer in a shallow pan.
2. Bake at 350° for 8 to 10 minutes or until toasted, stirring once after 4 minutes.
3. Beat sugar and butter at medium speed with an electric mixer until blended. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating until blended after each addition.
4. Whisk together mashed sweet potatoes, orange juice, and vanilla extract. Combine flour and next 5 ingredients. Add flour mixture to sugar mixture alternately with sweet potato mixture, beginning and ending with flour mixture. Beat at low speed just until blended after each addition. Fold in toasted pecans. Place foil baking cups in muffin pans, and coat with vegetable cooking spray; spoon batter into cups, filling two-thirds full.
5. Bake at 350° for 28 to 30 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted into center comes out clean. Remove immediately from pans, and cool 50 minutes to 1 hour or until completely cool. Spread cupcakes evenly with Cream Cheese Frosting. Garnish, if desired.

Southern Living, NOVEMBER 2007

When Korean babies have their 1st birthday...

Dad, mom and baby all dressed in Korean traditional clothing.

It wasn't that long ago, when Korea's economy was in drastic dire. They were a small country torn apart by the Japanese colonists and a civil war that never truly ended. It is hard to imagine this technologically advanced, highly ranked economic power desperate and in the midst of famine. Korea sprinted its way to the forefront of the world and has been battling it's way past superpowers. It is ranked 15th in the world economies. For this reason, Korea has been struggling with the delicate obligation of weaving it's past and present into a modern afghan with reflections of the past that don't seem too antiquated, while staying up with the times and/or ahead of the curve but without losing their heritage. It's been a difficult task, the knitting of a complicated and at times a bizarre project that doesn't have a clear pattern. The materials change, the colors don't always flow and sometimes the tug-a-war just tears it up all together. Occasionally it is thrown in the trash, but its eventually picked back up again and attempted again. It doesn't always seem to work out or mesh the way some think it should, but it is what makes Korea, Korea.

One of these traditions that is still celebrated today, which in today's modern Korea seems outdated and yet an important part of Korean heritage is the celebration of both the 100th day of a baby's birth and it's one year birthday celebration. In the past infant mortality rate was steep. So when a baby hit the 100th day of life, it's chances of survival were greatly increased demanding a need for a celebration. A party would ensue, that is if the infant wasn't sick, in which case no one would mention the 100th day for fear of relaying bad luck onto the child. Even though the infant mortality rate in Korea has decreased significantly thanks to advanced health care, mothers and families aren't in actuality concerned for each child's survival but still carry on the tradition of celebrating 100 days of life. I'm not sure if 100 has a significant meaning in Korea, because they also celebrate 100 days of dating for new couples.

Recently, Kyle, the other teachers of our school, and I were all invited to a birthday party. A 1st year birthday party, which is also a momentous marker in a person's life. The 100th day celebration is a small scale event with family and close friends, while the 1st year birthday party is an extraveganza on a scale similiar to a wedding. I'm not joking. There were at least 150 people at this child's birthday party with a delectable buffet fit for a Caesar and his armies. I asked my Korean friends, who were swooning at the thought of the day when they could also have their very own 1st birthday party for the little crumpet that they one day too would bring into the world, if this was a normal scale or if this was over the top. I was assured that this was quite normal.

"How much would something like this cost?" I asked in disbelief. I wondered how any parent could afford to have more than one child.
"It costs a lot of money, but it is payed for basically by the guests." one Korean teachers said.
Another chimed in, "Sometimes they even make money from these events. I know some who have not only not had to pay for anything, but went home with a profit."

Each person who attends a wedding or a 1st birthday party is expected to give a gift like we do in the states, except the gifts are normally not material goods, but in the form of cash. Beacoups of cash. Basically you are just paying for the meal and silly entertainment. Many of the Koreans gave the equivalent to $50 per person and that is average.

The set up was elaborate. They had photos probably of everyday of this child's life. I thought the picture tree was very cute. There was even a video shown at the end of the evening of the baby being dressed up for a full days shooting session. She was a star in the making.

Stuffing our faces. Soju was at every turn. It isn't a Korean party if there isn't soju.

All of the teachers who attended the party.

Isn't the cake beautiful. I don't think I ever tasted it. I am not sure in fact it was real.

There was of course a DJ and entertainment. Volunteers (our teachers) even the president were told to stand, and dance or bob their head. Each person wore a pedometer to record how much dancing and/or bobbing was done. The president stood their awkwardly before sitting down refusing to be silly while everyone else competed for the prize.

No rice cake on this plate. But there are mashed potatoes which I mistakenly though was a dessert. It's the one with chocolate syrup and sprinkles. Why would I think that was a dessert. How silly of me.

I don't have a picture of this, but one of the important aspects of a birthday party is the picking of the child's future career. A tray is presented to the baby and they are given a choice of objects. Depending on what they pick will determines what they become as adults. So the objects she was given were a microphone, money, pencil, string, book etc. They all have meaning; the mic-entertainer, pencil-scholar, string- long life, money- rich, book- writer etc. She choose two items. She choose money and the pencil which means she will be rich and a scholar. Unlikely, I would think.

Needless to say the event was a learning experience. We had fun, and went home with full tummies. One of my favorite aspects of living abroad is learning about other countries cultures. Its enlightening and makes one reflect on our own country and traditions.

Happy Birthday America!

Every year to celebrate our break up with daddy England, America collectively faces the roasting July heat to spend time with friends and family either around a pool and/or a BBQ pitt. Chlorine smells sting the nostrils, while colored lights illuminate the sky in radiant colors and flashes of semi-controlled fire. July fourth is not without consequences however. Scorched skin occurs not only from our yellow, ray bedecked star which enlivens our planet, but also from the mishandled fireworks that are a requirement for all Americans to partake in on this splendid celebration. Faces smeared in sugary and sticky watermelon juices coupled with BBQ sauce decorated fingertips makes for a delightful clean up.

How is July fourth celebrated in other countries you might wonder? Well, it's not, as it's an American holiday, unless of course there are Americans around to seize it by it's tail and share with other countries all its glory.

Our celebration was a last minute throw together. We had wavered on what to do, going back and fourth, and finally two days before sent out mass text messages for a BBQ. Unfortunately the school's pool, which only has 4 feet of water, but is a pool in Korea non-the-less, a novelty to be sure in this non-swimming country had yet to be opened. But a BBQ in our courtyard we did enjoy. Kyle and I ordered beef ribs from an online foreign food store. A suggestion for those in the future who cook beef ribs- marinate. The ribs are much more tough than pork and a dry rub, just doesn't cut it. The BBQ was close to perfection with everything from eggplant/mushroom kebabs, home style fries, to apple and cherry pies. What it lacked however was a watermelon. Yep, there was no watermelon at our feast. The problem is not that lack of watermelons in this country, but the price of these fruits. Not only are they half the size of the ones back home, but they also cost an arm and a leg. $15 for one watermelon is more than I am willing to put out for one of my favorite summer fruits. In reality, I refuse to buy just about any fruit except for bananas because of the prices. I just won't pay $5 for four apples. I'm spoiled by American food prices, and I just can't spend that much on food even if it is vital to my nutrition. In Japan I have heard there is such a thing as a square watermelon and its price make my whining about $15 to shame.

These watermelons go for near $100 or so I am told. I'm sorry, call me cheap, call me miserly, but "NO WAY Jose!" The novelty is not that great that I will spend a day's wages on a watermelon just because it has the shape of a square.

But I regress... where were we? Ah... yes, the BBQ, near perfection. We even had fireworks. Well, kind of. We got sparklers galore and Roman candles. I've mentioned before that we have a miniature, and slightly overweight statue of liberty in our school, so we thought it only fitting to fire the flames near our lady of freedom. A Canadian made that suggestion. By the by, did you know that Canada (their equivalent to July 4th) is on July 1st. Basically the queen or king whoever was in charge at that time patted Canada on the head and said, you can have your own government, but Mommy and Daddy England will still watch over you to make sure you are ok.

Here are a few pictures of our Korean July 4th celebration.

The birthday train

My birthday has come and gone. We are not discussing my newest age. I have stopped counting, so if anyone asks, I will tell you 21. Why does it seem that when we are young, birthdays arrive ever so slowly, like a feather floating on the wind currents calmly breezing and chilling on the drafts as we jump up and down trying to grab it from the sky. But when we get past 20 they zoom towards us like a blazing flame-encrusted alien asteroid shot from a speed of light powered cannon. I am dodging those ever growing alien space balls as skillfully as I can, but in all honesty, my reflexes are seriously lacking, and they hit me much too often for comfort. I am on the fast train to thirty years old, and as much as I beg and plead with the train conductor to freaking slow down this mad dashing train, he only laughs menacingly and calls out to the worker sporting overalls and a shovel in his gruff callous voice "More coals to the fire!" I can almost see the brick wall looming on the tracks with the big 30 bedazzled in pink rhinestones mocking me.

I just need a watch to slow down time. Anyone have one? It's not that I don't ever want to be thirty, it's just that I thought I would have accomplished so much more by that time. I imagined that I would be a grown up by my age, but I don't feel like a grown up. I don't feel like an adult. I still feel like we are just playing house. What I really want is a few more years before I am thirty so that the dreams of an eight year old can be realized. Is that really too much to ask?

So although I would have preferred to ignore the day reminding me of that looming brick wall, we did actually celebrate the day of my birth. A friend came to stay with us. Enchiladas were had. ( A serious treat from some lovely co-workers!) Saturday, Kyle and I had a joint birthday bash in Itaewon (the foreign district) with an Indian buffet and chic bar called the bungalow with sand on the floor to complete the bohemian vibe with friends in Seoul. Sunday afternoon, we had a BBQ with co-workers and celebrated a joint birthday with one of our co-workers wife who had also had a birthday that week. It was a solid week of celebration and super duper fun. And although I wish my birthdays would stop stacking one on top of the other like precariously piled jenga blocks, I was able to look past what it means to be my age and live life as best as I know how.