A Close Shave

I think the honeymoon period in Korea is over. I went out for a meal with Korean Family and had to endure three dishes I really didn't care for at all. I tried to smile my way through it but my taste buds may have been trying to tell me something because I had stomach-ache all evening afterwards. Having mostly eaten various rice and noodle dishes here I found myself pining for some decent pizza or pasta, which I've yet to find here. A local bakery makes a small bread product with a sprinkling of vegetables that they give the name to, but I've decided to call it not-quite-pizza. Korean Mother has taken to coming around once or twice with not-quite-pizza but it hasn't served to fulfil my appetite for something a bit more familiar.

Not being able to communicate with anyone is already getting old now, and I don't wish to confine my entire spoken experience with Koreans to the same four sentences about Manchester United and Jesus Christ. I'm frustrated by the lack of time I've found so far to study the language.

Korean Mother has noticed my stomach - which I don't believe has stopped moving eastwards since I got off the plane - and I'm never going to solve this problem until people here stop trying to over-feed me. And Korean Father has now noticed that I only tend to shave every-other-day which apparently doesn't fit his view of how I should look. I am still debating whether to change my shaving habits to placate him or whether this is where I draw my line in the sand. He doesn't like my boots either which have been proclaimed as being "heavy" so I can see it's best to make a stand sooner rather than later or I may find myself on a slippery slope.

I'm back to working full-time, more-or-less, so it feels like - for various reasons - that this is where the hard work begins and my relatively carefree holiday ends. It's a pity but that's the hard reality, and despite the challenges I still love it here - I'll see whether that holds as more time elapses.