In which my friends discover I may not be as cool as they thought

Korea and Colorado have way too much in common.

Today started as intended. I met SunA for lunch; we had pork rib roast that reminded me of Sunday dinners back home when I was in junior high. (This was Korean style, though; Mom never made it this spicy. Or with jop chae noodles in it.)

Anyway, after lunch we went to the community center to do some volunteering. I've been to this center with SunA once before. The kids love me there -- they don't get to go to private schools to work on their English, so it's rare for them to come in contact with a native speaker. SunA says she asked them who they liked better, her or me, and they picked me unanimously. I think she's full of it. She usually is.

Volunteering was wonderful. The kids were scheduled to learn their numbers from 40 to 50, so we spent a whole hour playing games with numbers. I made most of them up on the spot, since SunA waited until we walked into the classroom to tell me what the day's lesson was supposed to be about. Thank goodness for Sunday school, teaching me how to think on my feet where kids are concerned.

After visiting the community center, I was scheduled to visit the Ae Ook Won orphanage in Masan. SunA took me to a bus stop where I got on an express bus to Masan. The express buses cost more than regular buses, but they make fewer stops so you can cover a great distance faster. Since Masan is quite a ways from downtown Changwon, the express was the best choice. Only problem was, I wasn't sure exactly where the express bus would go, or where I should get off, or whether I'd find the orphanage again from the bus stop after only having been there once.

Somehow, it all worked out. I found the orphanage easily, and walked up to the office right at 4 p.m. The kids were jazzed to see me and even remembered my name. We talked about the Ugly Duckling story, sang "Old MacDonald Had a Farm," and worked on numbers from 1 to 39. At the start of class, almost all of the kids were too shy to count to 10 in front of everyone. But at the end, there were so many volunteers that we ran out of time. I was proud of them. And, just like before, it took a little extra time getting out of there while I talked to some of the kids and passed out hugs and high-fives. (That's the nice thing about working at the orphanage. Kids are allowed to hug you. Once, at my real job, a little girl waited until she was sure no one was looking -- in a room where I had just turned off the light to leave -- to give me a hug. Aw, the shyness.)

After the orphanage, I met up with Gretchen and Michael at City7 Mall. This mall is amazing; you should go there if you're ever in Changwon. The design is unlike anything I've seen before. I'm not even sure whether to describe it as an indoor or outdoor mall. Check the link.

We had supper and smoothies at the mall and wandered around for a bit, but my ankle, still sore from Busan adventures, started acting up so I went home. I limped into my apartment, downed an ibuprofen and settled in for the night, even dozing off for a bit before John called.

John is one of my closest Korean friends; he works for the recruiting company that brought me here. I help him out with his English a few days a week. He's a great friend. Tonight he called and asked me to come out to meet his friends, so I figured, sure, why not?

OK, Hank? Summer? Katie? You guys could learn a LOT about partying from John's friends. These people are crazy-mad. We spent some time at International Pub hanging out and talking, and John's buddies were just enthralled to meet a foreigner. (They're cool guys, too.) They kept asking me why I didn't have a girlfriend, and did I want one? Every female who walked into the bar, they asked me to "pick up." Uh, no chance, guys.

Then they asked if I like to dance. "Are you crazy?" I said. They laughed, John paid and we left. I followed them to ... well... a nightclub. (This is the part where Kristin needs CPR from laughing too hard. Whatever.)

So we went to the Newcastle Night Club. Now "nightclub" in Korea means something slightly different from "nightclub" in the US. For one thing, in Korean nightclubs, they have "booking." No, not scrapbooking. We'll get to that later.

Also, I don't have a lot of experience in American nightclubs, but I have to figure they're nowhere near as ornate as this one. This nightclub looked like something out of Miami Vice. Almost completely dark save for brightly-colored neon on the walls. A massive stage with about 250,000 moving parts, including a smaller stage that lowers from the ceiling. Miles of tables full of people. And a dance floor. (They don't allow cameras. Here's the best I could come up with from my phone. Sorry.)

Now my buddy Greg has tried to go to a nightclub before. But they wouldn't let him in. No foreigners on the weekends. But apparently John has enough pull with this joint that they let me in anyway. Seriously -- only white dude there.

Guys, I totally danced. This is where "dance like nobody's watching" totally kicked in. It's too dark in here for anyone to see me. And to be honest, John's friends weren't particularly awesome dancers either. (I could probably kick their tail in DDR with a healthy ankle.) So we made our little dude-circle and danced all awkwardly. I had a ball. It was a pretty good workout, and while somewhat painful on my bum ankle, I think it might have actually stretched out the muscle and made it better.

Then came the "booking." This is a deal where you pay your waiter to bring a woman to your table and introduce her to you. No, not like THAT. These girls are all customers as well. It's more like speed dating than prostitution. Anyway, John's buddies uh, bought me a girl. And she came over, and she was nice, but she spoke NO English. Good call, guys? Whatever, we talked for a bit, and then she left. I think I let the guys down, because after this things kind of quieted down. But we did go back out and do our weirdo dance three or four more times during the course of the night. And I laughed, a lot. And I sweated, a lot, but so was everyone else, so whatever.

At one point SunA showed up. She said John had called and told her to come, but when I told John she was on her way, he freaked out. So I have no idea why she came, or how she knew where we were, anyway. Whatever. She wouldn't even dance with us! She kept trying to hide when we dragged her out with the group to the dance floor. It was pretty funny, though.

So, guys, I think I might be Korean now. Yesterday it was the traditional squat toilet; today I've had people pay for a girl to meet me. What's next? Maybe a jimjilbang...