An Adventure in Church-y

I would post our pictures, but I still haven’t quite figured out how to post them… if anyone can figure out how to change the language settings on google, let me know.

On my first day of work, my co-teacher invited me – in the way that only some cultures can – to the English service at her church, “You will come with me to church on Sunday.” As uncomfortable as I was with this invitation, I was happy to find that there was an English service at a church very near to our apartment. It’s a very large Presbyterian church, with a gigantic neon-red cross at the top of the steeple. We arrived for one-thirty, and rushed downstairs to a large room – about the size of a North American ‘fellowship hall.’ There were enormous maroon drapes behind a large, elaborately-carved pulpit, a drum set, a keyboard, and three pews. Of the twenty attendees of the service, Paul and I were the only white people present. The music was loud, but familiar-sounding. At one point, we were asked to, “sing ‘Jesus Loves You.’” A very different tune was played, we heard many languages, and everyone in the room formed a line to shake hands with each other and say, “Jesus Loves You.” It was more awkward than profound. After the sermon, we were asked to come forward and introduce ourselves as newcomers. At that point, the line formed again, and everyone shook our hands and mumbled something.

Despite the awkwardness, it was actually quite nice. We were happy to be able to go to church, and happy with the possibility that we could have a church community very easily. What was most difficult was not giggling each time the pastor prayed to the “Holy Spit.” “Holy Spit, be with us today. Holy Spit, make us pure.” I’m glad my siblings weren’t there. (So is my mother – she can’t sit between all of us.)

After church, we attempted to find food. This is actually a bit of a problem. There are hundreds of Korean restaurants, but we don’t yet know how to order food in Korean, or even how to read in the Korean language. We ended up at a Korean fast-food joint, which served the worst hamburgers we’ve ever eaten.

I have to admit that I’m having a bit of a problem with the food. I like asian food. I like Korean food. And yet, adjusting to a new time zone doesn’t always go well with spicy, foreign food. And it smells!!! It’s one thing for a dish to be spicy; it’s quite another for the entire country to smell of a particular spice. Last night, we went to the local ‘large’ grocery store. We could smell fish for a block away. Nothing in the store was appetizing, because the smell of the salty dead fish was overwhelming. Plus, there was a man yelling into the microphone the entire time we shopped. I was nearly in tears by the time we left. I ate ice cream and Pringles for dinner.