Jesus' Love Church, Host Family, Free Day

Days 3 and 4 of the Mosaic Tour.

Sunday, 6.24 | Monday, 6.25

I am a beautiful and holy fruit of God. It says so right there.

This gigantic sign with all of our faces and this pretty clear declaration greeted us as we entered the vestibule, along with balloons, tteok, and various fruits. Fruit is kind of expensive in Korea, as land to grow it on is at a premium, so we were often welcomed with displays of fresh slices of watermelon and other treats.

Jesus' Love Church attendance wasn't mandatory, but all but one of us attended. Jesus' Love sponsors nearly half of the tour, so it was pretty important that we came to show our gratitude. I was thankful for the opportunity they afforded us.

After the sermon, there were various performances. This was a traditional dance by some exceptionally cute children. It was interesting to see how happy and well-adjusted these kids were compared to the Angels' Haven kids.

I know I'm partial, but dang, these kids were just too adorable.

Again, my people. The woman is a world-famous opera singer who just so happens to be a member of Jesus' Love.

Later on Sunday, we each went to spend time with a host family. Again, another peek into what our lives might have been (but probably not given the circumstances of most of our births.) My host family, the Jungs, were just about as lovely as could be. They hadn't hosted before, and upon discovering this, I said, "Oh, so I'd better be on my best behavior." After that, we just kept cracking jokes. I'm not sure if they thought I was actually funny, but pretty much everything I said was met with giggles, especially by these two sweet girls. The whole family was fluent in English, especially the youngest daughter (farthest from me) and father. They taught me how to play yut, a traditional Korean game played on important holidays, like Korean New Year, and their mom cooked a delicious dinner of bulgogi and japchae. We exchanged gifts (Korean gift-giving culture is kind of intense) and they even bought my son the "Tickle Me Elmo" of last year - some kind of dinosaur / Pokemon toy / game. I remarked on their incredible collection of books, the titles were amazing! There was everything from Charlotte's Web to Maze Runner to help the girls increase their English fluency. I made some recommendations to them while I was there, and when I asked, "What did you think of this book?" the sweet older sister said, "Oh, um, I liked it," to which I replied, "You don't have to say that if you didn't like it. I didn't write the book, so you won't hurt my feelings." She got more comfortable after that.

It was interesting just watching how they interacted with one another. The mom didn't sit down for much of the meal, even though she's a career woman, so one would normally think, "Oh, they're pretty Western." But she'd spent at least 2 hours just prepping and cooking. My offers to help were waved off. Even when I got up to put my dishes in the sink, the mom jumped up and took the dishes from me. While eating, the girls, instead of getting up and putting more on their plates if they wanted more, asked their mom, who thought nothing of getting up to oblige. She even cut their food for them, and one was 15 and the other was 12. I will say it was nice that their dinner routine included dad taking charge of clean up, though, and I remarked that the same held true in my home, too.

During the hour-ride back to my hotel, my host mom asked me how my birth mom reunion went. She said, "You will have a lot of feelings afterward. It will be hard." This was something I hadn't anticipated - that she'd even have any knowledge of KAD reunions, much less be experienced enough to offer advice. I asked her more about it, and she explained her background with documentary filmmaking, focusing on adoptee stories.

This family was so welcoming and compassionate. It was an honor to be welcomed into their home.

"Tater Jam"

One of the breakfast offerings at our hotel. Weird English was everywhere, and it offered an endless source of comedic relief after so much emotion.

Emily and I both had a free day, as Monday was "Visit your adoption agency" day, and we'd already done that. So, we wandered around Insadong, our hotel's neighborhood, discovering shops and wandering its twisted alleyways. Insadong is a pretty fascinating mixture of old and new. One shop will have, say, tiny succulents in fashionable geometric pots, and next to it would be a "Mom and Pop" noodle shop the size of my bedroom.

One of our wanderings took us to a shop that offered these beautiful teacups, housed in rich wood cabinets next to a Victrola. The European vibe was pretty inescapable, too, and Koreans apparently really like anything Parisian.

A potted plant outside a shop in Insadong. Seoul is a bustling metropolis, so to see a butterfly here was unique.

I could've taken a thousand pictures of Seoul's streets, its impossibly narrow alleyways framed by tangled electrical lines and old men squatting with their cigarettes on the sidewalk. I will never stop marveling at its old / newness, its vivid colors and smells.

Incredibly, these same tiny streets somehow host all manner of vehicles, navigated by the most fearless and capable drivers who weave effortlessly through even the tightest spaces. They seem to bend all the rules of physics as they move through these streets.

Totally shatters the bad Asian driver stereotype.

A moment of pride. We couldn't really figure out what we wanted for lunch until we were both starving, so we entered this teeny-tiny restaurant helmed by an equally-tiny ahjumma. The place was about 14'x14' and somehow fit 4 tables. There was virtually no English, so we felt pretty out of place. Plus, it was just the two of us - no translators! But somehow we managed to order. To her credit, she didn't shame us for not speaking Korean (something that always made me feel out of place with Koreans my entire life) but was super patient. She even showed us through gesticulation, "Here's the banchan." We even figured out the drink situation, which, again, made me feel like a freaking warrior.

Notice the little metal cups. In Korea, most restaurants won't ask you what you want to drink. Instead, there's a little Culligan-Like water cooler and a sterilization box that sort of looks like a fridge housing all these stainless steel cups. You help yourself to a cup and water as you see fit, but most Koreans just take 1 tiny cup for THEIR WHOLE MEAL and that's completely normal. How my people are not all dehydrated is beyond me.

This might have been the only gimbap I ate in Korea, oddly enough. It was so tasty and cheap. I think I spent $6 on both of these rolls.

Emily and I somehow stumbled upon a Buddhist temple. As if its discovery among modern structures wasn't surprising enough, Emily says, "Is that a swastika?" Yup. And so it was.

This particular Buddhist temple was pretty dope, as it was where Korean rebels secretly congregated to overthrow the Japanese during the occupation.

In yet another episode of "We're American. . . What the ____ do we do?" Emily and I enter the temple vestibule, a clearly sacred space. There was only one elderly woman lighting candles, and she seemed busy, so we didn't ask her. We did have the good sense to take off our shoes (thank goodness) but beyond that, we just kind of looked around at all the (what I assume were) prayers.

Lotus lights on the ceiling of the temple. Everything here was beautiful and made me proud to be Korean.

Yet another thing I couldn't read.

Another amazing find we stumbled upon during our wanderings was the Korean Culinary Institute. The building held two museums, largely dedicated to tteok, rice cakes that take various shapes and fillings based on the occasion or province. I loved this museum. It hit me just on the right level of knowledge. "In the South, we make tteok with ___ ingredients. These are the tools used to make tteok in the ___ century." Historical artifacts abounded.

Here, a replica of a traditional Korean wedding is displayed.

I think this tteok is served for the dol, or baby's first birthday.

Either that or a 60th birthday?

Even though this display shows how kimchi was made hundreds of years ago, it wasn't uncommon to see these large clay pots outside restaurants.

In the middle-ish left, there is a bad-ass ahjumma walking around impossibly balancing a bunch of stuff on her head. She greeted passers-by with expert skill and grace, never burdened by her load. She, to me, was just another symbol of our resilience and strength.