Excuse me, Sarang Church?

The above date and time are wrong. It’s actually 9:30 Sunday night. But the general controls on the computers here are in Korean, and it may be a while before I figure out how to change the settings.

This season in my life has been a season of firsts: My first teaching assignment, my first trip long-term trip abroad, my first serious attempt at learning a language with a different alphabet, my first experience eating with chopsticks. Tonight marks another significant first: My first case of indigestion from the spicy Korean food. I did actually enjoy what I ate, but now I’m paying for it and I can only hope that my body will adjust soon. In his fascinating book "The Koreans," journalist Michael Breen, who splits his time between South Korea and the UK, describes the withdrawal he has come to experience when he's not eating kimchi in Seoul. I hope that will be my testimony someday. I have found kimchi to be edible, and I will sometimes eat it over dinner even if I'm not asked to do so by my Korean host, but if it disappeared from existence I wouldn't be very sad about it. Tonight I actually passed up the kimchi, but what I did eat was no less spicy.

I've met a number of English teachers here, both from my school and from other places. Some are as newbie as I am. Some come off as cynical or unprepared, or both. However, I've been humbled by more accomplished teachers whose international and foreign language experiences far exceed my own. One of the teachers at my school previously did two years in the Peace Corps and is fluent in Spanish. Another teacher at a different branch, an African-American from New York like myself, speaks French and Italian, has been teaching successfully in Korea for two years, shoots over to Hong Kong every now and then for hanging out with friends and modeling gigs, and is currently studying Russian for a trip to Kazakhstan with a friend next year. The gentleman with whom I did a training session Saturday morning is a Canadian who has taught here for nine years or so, and speaks about seven or eight languages. I've met people here who are more adventurous than I ever imagined I would be, and these are not even trailblazing Christian missionaries. I'm not envious of anyone (I don't think), but it's really caused me to think outside of the box and to not rule out these types of accomplishments in my own life if that's what the Lord wants to do in me. I have no issues with starting near the bottom of the ladder. Just making it out here has given me momentum.

I attended three church services today, the first two at Sarang Church’s New Harvest Ministry and the third at Youngnak Church’s International Worship Experience with Pastor Bill and the gang. I met some cool people in both churches, including the gentleman at InterVarsity’s local branch who originally put me in touch with Pastor Bill. Once I begin work I expect to be super busy, but if I have any free time left there will be some great opportunities for all kind of activities here and some relationship building.

At Youngnak Chris and his Korean wife Laura ministered a medley of "Give Thanks" and "Lord I Give You my Heart." Although I am generally tired of these two songs, Laura had a gorgeous voice (it was the first time I’d heard her sing) and Chris performed sign language as she sang. It was simple yet beautiful. By the end I was already starting to have ideas of asking him to sign along to me singing one day.

Which brings me to the "ministry" issue. When I came to Korea, I intended not to do a lot of ministry stuff. I felt as if ministry activity consumed my life in New York to the point that it was affecting my devotion toward the Lord. I have been thinking about taking the guitar and hitting some of the local clubs around Shinchon. I also want to learn a few Korean songs to sing here and there. Pastor Bill has not been shy about asking me to do some special music during the services, and Grace is already talking about getting me in the church's choir. However, for the most part I've wanted to kick back and just not to do anything.

However, through every service I sat in today, I had an incredible ache to be singing with my guitar. I was surprised at how strong this desire was. It was actually distracting. I also wanted to sing at the top of my lungs, but I held back because I didn't want to blow away the people standing in front of me. And when I'm not at church, at home I jump around and do air guitar, or at least I get the foot stomp and/or head bob going when the radio is going. More often than I'd like to admit.

After service I joined Grace and a couple of friends for a walk in Hanok Park and dinner. The monsoon (rainy) season is ending, and the constant fog and clouds are slowly giving way to some sunlight. The mountains surrounding the city are coming into view, and they are spectacularly gorgeous. The park and the surrounding area were surprisingly quiet, even though some parts buzzed with visitors, many of them--interestingly--Koreans with large cameras. Grace's English is competent, but I gently corrected many of her expressions, which she appreciated. We traded vocabulary words and grammar rules. We visited Seoul's time capsule commemorating its 600th anniversary in 1994, as well as a beautiful fish pond and some other sights. We passed by two guys practicing martial arts in a semi-isolated spot. I'm looking forward to bringing a couple of books and spending more time here once the rain stops.

Dinner (the one that gave me indigestion) was a humorous experience. The silver chopsticks gave me a tough time for the first five or ten minutes until I finally found my groove. I think it was mildly entertaining for the wait staff as well as Grace and her friends, and one of the servers brought me a fork without my asking for it. However, I'm less embarrassed over this kind of thing and I finished out my meal, even the slippery noodles. I feel like a better man for it.

Almost as soon as I was beginning to be overwhelmed by the Korean language, it has slowly but significantly taken on a new coherence. The conversation around me, although I don't understand any of it, sounds less like gibberish and more like actual words. Also, I'm finding that my limited vocabulary is much more useful than I thought. I have literally become like a child. A child has a limited vocabulary, but he knows what he wants to say and he communicates it as best as he can without worrying about how he sounds. On the way to Sarang this morning I accidentally passed the left turn I was supposed to make after the subway exit, thinking it was further down. After realizing I went too far, I stopped a couple of guys and asked them in Korean: "Excuse me, Sarang Church?" Not eloquent, but I got my point across and they pointed me in the right direction. Many Koreans are very responsive to hearing a foreigner speak in the local language, however fitfully it may be. I’ve noted the same thing in Brazil and Argentina. I am looking forward to communicating effectively in Korean. At Sarang I became friends with a German brother who has lived in Korea for the last nine years for business, and he and his Korean wife are planning to move to Seoul at the end of August. He told me that Korean is a difficult language and that one can't passively "pick it up"-—one must aggressively lay hold of the language. That's what I intend to do, and the realization that I've already been able to communicate effectively (albeit on a limited scale) has greatly encouraged me.

I've been sitting in this Internet cafe for a long time.

I've read that the expatriate "honeymoon" period lasts for about two months. I'm certain that some difficult and maybe even negative experiences lie ahead. But my initial impressions of life in Korea, at least in the city of Seoul, have been largely favorable.