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Christmas gave us snow this year. I've never been more grateful. They don't get white Christmases here, but they did this year, and a couple of American kids whooped and yelled and played in it without shame (even with the big santa's elf cap on and despite many stares). As if it coudn't get any better, and we were plenty satiated by the snow alone, we went for a walk in the miniature Korean woods behind our apartment, and we met a fox on our trail. It stopped and watched us for many minutes, none of us moving. Finally, something must have stirred, for it scampered up the hill and away. I had just been babbling about Mary Kaye and Chas (my mountain man and woman aunt and uncle) to Scott when he saw the fox. Maybe the fox allowed us a look just for their sakes. Of course, per usual (ever since we walked a few canyons with Mary Kaye and Chas), we started to look for the fox's tracks and where they led, as if we had any idea. We have the heart of mountainpeople, even if our skill is lacking. Because our hearts are there, we run into foxes just the same. Merry Christmas, us. A fox in the woods next to a little falls on a snowy glen on a miracle of a morning in Korea. We started the morning with Pero and crepes and fruit and very deliberately and slowly (savoring, savoring) opening up our few little gifts we had under our "tree" (the weed, scott calls it, is a collection of all the beautiful autumn i could find on moon hill that now juts out of a clay pot in the corner of our studio). My mom had sent a few little morsels, and we carefully unwrapped each...pair of socks. And we giggled with delight. We actually needed socks, and moreover, we needed the sweet idea of my mom picking us out and sending us socks. After finding some body butter under a pan taped to the floor (scott's creative wrapping idea--he said it was appendage wrapping of the biggest kind--Korea was the appendage--as we had no paper of any kind) and some body scrub stuffed in a boot and also taped to the floor, Scott opened his cds (jazz and chet baker, of course) and his belt and "scent" (so named by scott--he must always have a "scent," and so we have been smelling Korean "scents" in search for his since we got here). Later in the afternoon, we met up with many other English teachers in the area for a little Christmas drinking and cheese-and-cracker-ing. Just like old times. Except this wasn't Martinelli's sparkling. We haven't met as many people here as we might if we stayed up like owls and drank like fish. Around 11 pm, they all hit the clubs, and Scott and I usually hit our hard mattress for a round or two (with the mattress) before we can finally fall asleep. Anyway, we were glad to find a community at last, and we all laughed and talked and drank (they insisted we at least drink water--we had to have a glass in our hands) and recounted our childhood Christmas traditions. We heard stories of Quebec (delightful), Norway, Britain, New Zealand, and many spots in the US. We laughed and thrilled in people (realizing how starved we had been for company) and watched the miracle of snow still falling outside their window. That night we went to a Western-style restaurant, despite a warning in my belly, and ate a greasy, heavy, creamy meal. We went home sick and stayed sick for hours. So much for Western food. I'm going to miss my steaming rice and stringy sea veggies and red pepper paste one day when I go back to fighting the lardy, flavorless, heavy dishes of the West. The day came and went for most Koreans (Christian or not) as any other day. They have plenty of other holidays that preceded our Western newcomers and so have little emotional connections with these holidays except that they're "days off"--(read: days to watch TV, movies, and play computer games). Le Renard [2002-12-29]
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