I learned many valuable lessons from her. For instance, there is a difference between reciting lines and telling a story. There's a difference.... One requires energy and passion. During the school day I would have a prep period which gave me a chance to rehearse my lines. Awful...at first but then gradually the energy would increase, and things got better. This is true no matter the talent level as I found out last year helping a very talented friend prepare for a Shakespeare Company audition. (An exception is my daughter who nailed the prima donna high school beauty queen on her first try.)
"Yes is almost always the more interesting answer," my instructor would say when questions were asked about the character's motivation. Notice, she didn't say the correct answer, just the more interesting. That has been a guiding principle ever since. I also developed a fondness for beautiful scenes in movies (the opening scene to Sin City may be the greatest of all time).
As I was channel surfing last night, a Korean movie caught my attention. The opening scene started with a phone ringing. A Korean woman working in a cafe answered the phone but only hears a man's voice with a stilted accent saying, "Hello?" Realizing that the person does not speak Korean, she starts to speak English, and a fascinating conversation unfolds.
"Hello, where is this?"
"This is a cafe," she says.
"No, I meant what country is this?"
The camera only shows the Korean woman who now has a very confused look, "This is Seoul, Korea. South Korea."
"I have a friend there."
"Where are you from?" The man explains that he is Polish but is currently in Rotterdam. The screen splits in two as the back of a man calling from a phone booth is juxtaposed to the woman in the cafe. He had been to many cities looking for his friend. Someone told him that his friend was there, but that was wrong. "I think she is in Korea. Her name is Anna."
The scene is so incredibly Korean. "I do not know her." The Korean lady clearly wants to hang up but has to ask one more question. "Who is Anna?" Koreans can be extremely polite and very inquisitive which makes them easy to talk to.
"She is my fiancee. It is a long story."
The Korean lady smiles, "I love long stories." The camera cuts to scenes of Rotterdam as the Polish guy describes the city. It is wonderful. At one point the guy reiterates that there are a lot of Chinese there. "You already said that. Are you running out of things to tell me?" she says with a laugh.
"No, I'm thinking of getting a job here. Can you tell Anna? Can you tell her if you see her that I give up? My phone card is running out. I have to go."
"Okay, perhaps Anna will come for coffee, and I can tell her."
"No, Anna does not like coffee.... but I do. Goodbye."
The rest of the movie was in Korean so I'm not sure what happens. The reason I described that scene is that it is so Korea: a million different strangers with a million different stories. And nearly everyone is willing to share their tale.
Story #1
A colleague's nephew is visiting. Another Hoosier is on the Korean peninsula. He is from Bloomington, just out of college, bright, and at 24 so very green. I was dating someone his age? What was I thinking? Oh, yes. I remember:
Flashback to May of 2010 as I sit with her on the docks overlooking the Long Island Sound. "But this can't go anywhere!" she says to herself as an internal dilemma interrupts a surprisingly romantic moment. She is thinking about where this could lead? She may actually like me! That was as far as my thought process went. I didn't know she was going to Nepal. I didn't know she would never come back. At least not to me.
Fast forward to May of 2011 as we are both halfway around the world and yet still far apart. "You must trust in my love for you," she replied to my worrying about me not being mentioned in her future plans. I realized I did as she said that. I did trust in her love. We had been through so many obstacles, and every obstacle had brought us closer together. It had been really hard, but I continued to feel my love for her grow. And had felt the same from her. Worse, I began to believe that I might actually be her best option. From the beginning, I felt there had to be several better options for her than dating someone 20 years older, but that fear had diminished. A few days later she tells me, "I'm sorry. I just can't do this anymore." Ohhhh, that's going to leave a scar.
Back to present day and the lad from Bloomington, "You guys will probably regret going out with me since you probably won't be able to keep up." At the end of the night he was hurling in a back alley way, and we were definitely regretting that. In between those events though was a good time. We had gone to the pub that has comedy night upstairs. I stayed below talking to the bartender I felt was going to be my new girlfriend. Once that feeling passed, I made my way upstairs.
"Hey, let's go meet some more strangers," my youthful friend tells us, his eyes full of wonder. The comedy show had ended and the crowd was thinning out. Apparently he had met some interesting people and was hungry for more. Just like the movie, this is what happens in Seoul.
We go to Seoul Pub where a bartender there shows us her sketchbook. I don't remember why. I just remember thinking that was cool. We do some shots with our young friend. He goes off to talk to three girls at a far table which opens up the seat next to me at the bar. A blonde lady from Georgia takes the seat quickly. "Your friend is handsome... and you are very handsome."
"And you have been partying for a while," I say with a smile.
"I like to party." The conversation gets more ridiculous. Throughout, I make eye contact with the bartender to ask silently, did she just say that? The lady from Georgia tells me there is a love hotel around the corner. Space is tight in Korea. Many young adults live with their parents creating the need for love hotels. Perhaps another day I would have said yes. It is the more interesting answer, usually. She had nice breasts and was doing her best to show them off, but I just wasn't interested. Maybe I need an emotional connection, or I need my head examined.
"You're not going to give it to me?"
"No, I'm not. Sorry. Take care."
The next day I got an email from the Seoul Pub bartender (I had given her my business card, of course). "Here are more examples of my work. It was nice meeting you and your friends. ...As gift I would like to draw you." I had recently hired a friend to paint a portrait of my daughter. Getting my portrait done seems really pretentious. Giving my portrait to my sister for Christmas seems perfect, so I email her my interest in getting my portrait done. Here is the reply (she is Korean so the English is not perfect):
Dear Brad
Now that is an artist! Thankfully, she could use the money and has agreed to do my portrait. Apparently, I do not have many good pictures of myself on Facebook, but I like the drawing she did.
 |
| I'm a model! |
My sister needn't worry too much. I don't think my portrait will be done in time for Christmas. I have yet to sit for it. But next year... I guess my conversation with the Georgia girl started this. Rarely is no the more interesting answer. Unless there are a million different strangers with a million different stories. Then anything is possible.
