Census!
Bruce came back from Indonesia; we only had an evening to talk but it confirms in my mind that the people I went to Uni with were the best sorts of people. I need to go back to school. Dammit.
Guess where Bruce wanted to go? Hongdae! How many times is that now? I met a girl who wants to exchange language lessons. Bruce called her ugly, but I think I've been alone too long to be a good judge.
In other news: guess who just had to fill out a census? Actually, it wasn't me, it was the woman who PERSISTED ON RINGING MY DOORBELL DESPITE ALL MY ATTEMPTS TO IGNORE HER. I don't usually answer my door when I don't recognize the person through the keyhole, or when there's a thumb blocking it (then it's time for a NUGUYA??! bellowed fiercely if I suspect the person is Anglo or WHO DIS??! if I suspect the interloper is Korean) because there is never any good reason to do so. It's either the Mormons trying to get you to convert AND give them free language lesssons - sneaky mormons. Or it's a salesperson trying to give you filters for your air-con or stove, such things which I undoubtedly need but will never install, due to intertia and being busy converting wav files to mp3 or whatnot.
Census Woman, however was not to be deterred, and if you have ever heard a Korean doorbell you will understand why it's the most god-awful torture to endure. I would rather face down the knife wielding nalari to whom I'm 300 million in Go-stop induced indebtedness, than to hear that sound three times. It's not even properly a sound, it's a "song" but which is so horrible to contemplate, much less experience that the term song is not apt.
Census Woman's determination is not matched with a corresponding bilingualism, so I'm trying to figure out what she wants me to say, and I'm giving her the best dumb foreigner act that I can muster, except, here's a secret bloggers, it's not really acting.
Her: Rapid fire Korean that you could understand only if you had been born here.
Me: Mwoya-yo??? (Did you not notice my white face and shocking yellow hair??)
Her: Huh. More Korean, no words distinguishible, but said in a halting manner.
Me: Meolleoyo!! (What the hell are you talking about??? I'm a dumb foreigner, can't you hear?)
Her: Korean. Korean. name. Korean.
Me: at this point I notice the word 'census' on her sheet. Ahh! Census! You want my name?
Her: Nodding
Me: Ok - I write 'Half Moon' (first name)
Her: More rapid fire Korean, counting on fingers.
Me: Meolleoyo?
etc. etc.
Anyway, I lied about my age on the census. Classic.
Guess where Bruce wanted to go? Hongdae! How many times is that now? I met a girl who wants to exchange language lessons. Bruce called her ugly, but I think I've been alone too long to be a good judge.
In other news: guess who just had to fill out a census? Actually, it wasn't me, it was the woman who PERSISTED ON RINGING MY DOORBELL DESPITE ALL MY ATTEMPTS TO IGNORE HER. I don't usually answer my door when I don't recognize the person through the keyhole, or when there's a thumb blocking it (then it's time for a NUGUYA??! bellowed fiercely if I suspect the person is Anglo or WHO DIS??! if I suspect the interloper is Korean) because there is never any good reason to do so. It's either the Mormons trying to get you to convert AND give them free language lesssons - sneaky mormons. Or it's a salesperson trying to give you filters for your air-con or stove, such things which I undoubtedly need but will never install, due to intertia and being busy converting wav files to mp3 or whatnot.
Census Woman, however was not to be deterred, and if you have ever heard a Korean doorbell you will understand why it's the most god-awful torture to endure. I would rather face down the knife wielding nalari to whom I'm 300 million in Go-stop induced indebtedness, than to hear that sound three times. It's not even properly a sound, it's a "song" but which is so horrible to contemplate, much less experience that the term song is not apt.
Census Woman's determination is not matched with a corresponding bilingualism, so I'm trying to figure out what she wants me to say, and I'm giving her the best dumb foreigner act that I can muster, except, here's a secret bloggers, it's not really acting.
Her: Rapid fire Korean that you could understand only if you had been born here.
Me: Mwoya-yo??? (Did you not notice my white face and shocking yellow hair??)
Her: Huh. More Korean, no words distinguishible, but said in a halting manner.
Me: Meolleoyo!! (What the hell are you talking about??? I'm a dumb foreigner, can't you hear?)
Her: Korean. Korean. name. Korean.
Me: at this point I notice the word 'census' on her sheet. Ahh! Census! You want my name?
Her: Nodding
Me: Ok - I write 'Half Moon' (first name)
Her: More rapid fire Korean, counting on fingers.
Me: Meolleoyo?
etc. etc.
Anyway, I lied about my age on the census. Classic.
posted by Vivec at 9:31 p.m.
1 Comments:
Ha ahh ah haa- you've slain me with the last line.
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