A Tale of Two Thanksgivings (aka Fast Metabolisms and One Hardcore Betch)

Well. That was a weekend, wasn't it?

I was looking forward to this weekend because it was going to be the first time that I'd had the chance to celebrate Thanksgiving while living outside the United States, and I was going to celebrate it not only once, but twice. Normally, when you're outside the US, Thanksgiving just kind of passes you by without much notice or fanfare. You go to work like any normal Thursday and Friday, there's no special turkey dinner, no talk about what you're thankful for, and even worse, no pumpkin pie. I've had a couple years without a Thanksgiving (2005 and 2006) and it's a bit deflating. But thanks to the huge US military presence in Korea, that was not a concern for me this year. In order to serve the troops on Yongsan base and others, some companies put together big Thanksgiving dinners-in-a-box which usually serve 10-12 people and cost about $100. I couldn't wait to chow down on two awesome dinners this year instead of just one.

The celebrations were kicked off on Friday night at Sydney's apartment in Seoul. There were 9 of us, and we had the works: turkey, ham, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, veggies, rolls, and that most crucial ingredient, the pumpkin pie. But we were also going for kind of a multicultural Thanksgiving, so Jules made her best chicken adobo, which went great with Q's rice. There was plenty of wine and vodka, good music, great company, and a relatively genuine moment when we all held hands before eating and gave thanks. Although we were all pretty sincere, Chris jokingly added that he was thankful that we all had fast metabolisms so he could stuff his face around a bunch of other skinny people. Maybe a little un-PC but I definitely understood the sentiment and was exceedingly thankful for my metabolism as I scarfed down multiple plates of deliciousness.

Around midnight, we made the awesomely terrible decision of going out to the infamous Monkey Beach, a notoriously foreigner-friendly place that sells tequila sunrises by the bucket and actually encourages its patrons to dance on the tables. I'd never been there before, and will probably never go back again, but at least now I've had the Monkey Beach experience. I also ran into an old Best Buddies co-worker there, which I thought would be the most bizarre and random moment of my weekend, but boy could I have not been more wrong.

(l-r): Sydney, Sun, Q, me, Mo, Chris, Nick, and Abe, with Jules down in front

Saturday started off rather inauspiciously, with the exception of a light dusting of snow on the ground when I left Sydney's place to meet my friend Tim for brunch in Itaewon. After a fantastic San Francisco-esque brunch consisting of eggs benedict, potatoes, and a bloody mary, I met Jen at the Yongsan military base to pick up Thanksgiving dinner # 2. We were supposed to bring the giant box o' food back to her apartment on the other side of Seoul and prepare for her roommates' dinner party to start around 5 PM. We made good time and got back to her neighborhood around 2.45. After paying for the taxi, Jen grabbed the box out of the trunk and took about 3 steps forward to cross the street, oblivious to my obviously-not-quick-enough warning about stepping off the curb, where there was a sewer grate covered with just enough leaves to disguise how deeply inset it was into the asphalt. Literally one second after the words left my lips, Jen and the dinner went down hard, the box spilling its contents into the middle of the road and Jen lying face-down in the street unable to move her right leg. It took me a minute to understand what was happening or how serious her injury was because Jen is one hardcore betch. There were no tears, no screaming or yelling, no cursing, just a minute of grimacing and then the sarcasm. "Really? Are you serious? Is this happening right now?" I started to call 119 but allowed some random passing Good Samaritan to make the call instead when I suddenly remembered that, oh yeah, I can't speak Korean. A 5-minute ambulance ride later and the EMTs were wheeling Jen into the hospital just around the corner from her apartment.

Photo stolen from Jen's blog. Look at this woman!

The ankle was broken. After 2 hours of x-rays and waiting, the doctor put Jen in a splint, gave her some crutches and pain meds, and told her to come back in 2 days once the swelling was down so they could determine whether she would need surgery or just a cast.  Ironically, the only piece of the dinner that was as smashed as Jen's leg was the pumpkin pie, with the rest of the food remaining wrapped and intact enough for the party to go on regardless. And that's exactly what happened. Neither Jen nor I seemed to be in much of a party mood anymore, so after we ate our share of the dinner that Jen had sacrificed so much for we retreated to her bedroom and watched Anthony Bourdain and The Devil Wears Prada, ignoring the raucousness in the adjoining room. I skipped a going-away party that night to stay in with Jen, not only because she needed it but because I would have rather spent the evening with her anyway. I was pretty amazed and impressed with this incredible friend of mine after the way she handled everything that afternoon and I want to try and remember WWJD (What Would Jen Do) the next time I am seriously injured or the victim of some tragedy. No tears, minimal complaining, just jokes and general optimism, despite the fact that this is the same girl who already spent time in a Korean hospital with broken bones after getting run down by a motorcycle. I don't think I could hide the admiration in my voice when I sat next to her in the hospital and joked, "You're hardcore, Stevens." Seriously, mad respect.

(I would be remiss if I didn't at least mention here the continued fabulousness of the Korean health care system. In and out of the hospital in 2 hours?? An ambulance ride, x-rays, splint, medication, and doctor/nurse time all for the grand total of $60??? The orthopedist said it looked as though there had already been something wrong with her ankle bone and that it was probably fragile and bound to break. Well damn, if it was bound to break eventually, I guess we should be thankful it happened here in Korea instead of at home where she'd be on the hook for thousands of dollars.)

My favorite photo, taken in South America. You can't see it here, but
in the lower left corner of the photo are two tiny SUVs driving across
the water, which means that all of that water is only a few inches deep.

On Sunday, I spent the first part of the day with Jen before meeting a small group of people at the Seoul Arts Center to see the National Geographic photo exhibition, displaying some of the most famous photographs taken for the magazine and broken up into categories like landscapes and wildlife. The images were breathtaking, although I found myself wishing once again that I could see them in a slightly different environment. Just as with the Picasso exhibit the previous week, or the Steve McCurry exhibit last summer, there were simply too many people being ushered through far too small a space and it was hard to really stop and enjoy any individual photograph for too long. Plus, the explanations for the photos were all in Korean with no English translations, so most of us depended on our friend Q to tell us what we were looking at in every single picture. The claustrophobic atmosphere was a bit overwhelming and frustrating and in the end Khumo and I had to get the heck outta there before we went ape-shit on some poor Korean person for walking too slowly or something. We finished off the evening with a dinner at Pizza Hut and then I departed on my long commute back home, dismayed to find the snowfall returning as my bus motored down the highway. When I arrived back in Haseong, I quickly learned that Chucks were not built for walking in snow and entered my house with wet feet and a burning desire to sleep. Which I did immediately, and oh so well.

Yeah. That was a weekend.