Dear Korea - I am so glad you don't understand English

Blogging | February 2, 2010

Dear K,

First of all - thanks for the other night. I had a blast.

The bloom of new love does usually make for some late nights.

But almost six months into our new relationship and the honeymoon phase is yet to end.

You are still shiny and sparkly to me Korea and I hope you never lose your shine.

Although, I will admit, I was less shiny and sparkly the morning after the night before - tumbling into bed at 7.30am on a Sunday does not usually make for my best look.

But I am awake and recovered now - and my voice has come back after all that singing we did together, so really everyone is a winner.

I realised on Monday that my voice had returned while I was on a train.

You may recall that moment. It seemed to cause a lot of mirth with your people. In case you have forgotten, I will refresh your memory.

I was sitting on the train, listening to my iPod and minding my own business while playing solitaire on said iPod when I noticed everyone on the carriage was looking at me.

Really Korea, that was a little rude. Staring like that. But in hindsight, I guess I would have stared too.

I mean how often is it that you see a white woman singing to herself on the train?

Not too often judging by the looks I was getting.

Now obviously, this is not my first time with public humiliation.

My list.....well, I won't bore you with it. I do like to keep the romance alive.

But the last time I suffered humiliation of this type was when I was 20 and riding on a bus in Brisbane.

I looked up and realised I had been singing "I'm like a bird" out loud.

Seriously - personal music players should come with some sort of warning when it picks up your voice singing along.

You are a technological genius - work on that.

But while a bus full of bemused BrisVegas-ites was a slightly humiliating audience, it has nothing on a carriage full of shocked Korean faces.

But only one of those faces looked really red. In face, he couldn't meet my eyes.

And then I realised why. He understood English. And my solo had been to Etta James' "I just want to make love to you."

Now, I did not want to make love to theSoju strange red faced Korean man, but I am pretty sure that he thought I did given that he ran off the train at the next stop.

Ran Korea. Ran.

But the rest of the carriage just sort of settled back to normal having had no idea what I was actually belting out.

And for that I am grateful. Very grateful.

I know that you have your government spending tons of money on English education.

And as an educator in that system, I can tell you that it is not working too well yet.

But that's OK. Because it means I can actually tell people what I am thinking when they stop right in front of me.

I can give the people who walk slow on the escalator or bump into me without saying sorry a piece of my mind.

I can talk about the people around me on the phone to English speaking friends and they have no idea.

I mean sure, when I am at school with my Korean co-teachers I occasionally hear 'Amy" and then have no idea what they are saying.

And most lunch times I am the quietest person on earth, as I sit in a Korean only air space.

But outside of those school walls and I am a one-woman venter.

Or belter-outerer, depending on the occasion or where I am. Like a train carriage for instance.

So thanks again Korea.

Thanks for not really understanding anything I say.

It makes those public humiliation moments a little easier to handle.

Love ya,

Me

xoxoxox