When you know the Honeymoon is over

February 2007
“Oh my god, it’s ASIA! Everything is so cute! Everything is so Asian! It’s all so fascinating!”

July 2007
“Old woman, seriously, no one can get off the subway if you are pushing to get on. Let’s try this: you wait about 1, maybe 2, seconds and we will all exit. Then you can run, jump, scurry, whatever you want to do to get your seat. Our little stand-off at the door is not going to get you anywhere.

Old man, please stop smoking your cancer outside my window.

To all the trucks that sell things in my neighborhood: Please, please for the love of the lord, turn those damn loudspeakers down. 3000 Won for melons. Gotcha. I can hear you. My intestines can hear you. My mitochondria can hear you.

Ladies, if you are going to smoke, please have the balls to do it in public and not take up every public bathroom stall secretly acquiring lung cancer. Some of us actually have to pee.

Dude, I got it. You speak English. I totally get that. Now please stop following me around the subway to have your marathon loud pretend cell phone conversation in my ear. And please stop calling Canada “The Canada”.

Also, public trash cans would be nice.”

Don’t worry, Korea. I don’t want to break up with you or anything. I’m not that fickle. I know that you don’t like to do the dishes as often as I do. I can see that you like to leave your clothes on the floor. I say tomato, you say…tomato, actually. OK, so you like to take really long showers and I can barely understand a word you say.

But I’m still crazy about your frozen yogurt, your aloe beverages, jim jil bang, $3 dinner, your public transport, beautiful green mountains and impossibly cute bowing children. I’m sure I can learn to overlook the other stuff.

7 Responses to “When you know the Honeymoon is over”

  1. Ann-Kathrin says:

    It’s not you.

    It’s me.

  2. Hey, how did I just discover this site??? I have a feed now, and look forward to reading all about your adventures. GREAT post on culture shock. In Belgium, it was,

    “Ok, people, you might think it’s ok to let your dogs shit all over the street, but it’s not ok with my shoes. Use a pooper-scooper, for chrissake!

    Seriously, just because you’re uber preppies who always wear oxford shirts, pressed jeans, cashmere sweaters slung over your shoulders and leather shoes does NOT mean it’s ok to laugh at the American in tennis shoes and a sweatshirt.

    No, I don’t want my boobs grabbed, or my ass, thank you very much, and the next time you try that you’ll get a faceful of mace, asshole. (OK, this was France….)”


  3. lori says:

    oh steph, if you need to bitch about your lover, you can always mail me :)

    the problem starts when you stop caring… you can make it! at least you don’t live here in Florida with me where somehow it is 110 degrees and 110% humidity even in the shade….

  4. tina miely says:

    I understand how you feel my friend…when the love affair is over you start seeing the hair and warts.

    I miss you long time.

  5. AnnAKAMoxie says:

    I’ve decided to adopt The Canada as part of my own vernacular.
    I’ll use that in front of my sister’s neighbors when I visit.
    I’m sure they’ll love it and never let me visit again.

  6. Janelle says:

    I know that you don’t like to do the dishes as often as I do. I can see that you like to leave your clothes on the floor…” I apologize, I trained all of Korea to be just like me so that you wouldn’t feel so homesick. Just tell them the game’s up.

    Ann, I thought you might like to sing The Canada’s national anthem next time you’re at your sister’s place. Here are the words:

    O The Canada!
    Our home and native land!
    True patriot love in all thy sons command.

    With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
    The True North strong and free!

    From far and wide,
    O The Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

    God keep our land glorious and free!
    O The Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

    O The Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

  7. AnnAKAMoxie says:

    This is good. All I know-and all I know comes from hockey games-was the first two lines.
    Now here’s the thing, my sister lives in Montreal. Isn’t that a whole other breed of Canadians?
    I’ll have to translate. At least the O Le Canada isn’t too hard to convert.

Leave a Reply to lori