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"I’m not gonna debate you Jerry. I’m not gonna sit here and debate." --Carl, played by Steve Buscemi, in Fargo.
I started out happy today, I guess I could say I was even chipper, but then I got sad. Well, I got angry, then sad. …hmm, where to start?
I read an email that made me angry because it attempted to debate, from a personal perspective, stuff I had written, in a cacophony of thought upon waking, inspired by some theory I’d read. And it’s like, why doesn’t anybody ever ask questions instead of trying to debate or add their two cents? To me, it’s the equivalent of approaching your friend who studies astronomy (when you do not) and saying, "Hey, I read your thing on the big bang theory, and well here’s what I see going on at the origin of all things." Absurd? Yes. And yes, it is not as black and white as that.
Everyone’s got an opinion on social issues and most has no qualms about challenging someone who studies social phenomena but will remain humbly respective of students of the so-called "natural sciences." I mean, even the science and religious camps are remaining cordial these days. WHY Is that? We are all made-up of molecules, we are all affected by the earth’s rotation around the sun, just like we’re all affected by the society in which we live.
I think maybe emotion. We are not so emotionally linked to molecules, but I spose some could argue that the earth’s orbit has emotional side effects. Nevertheless, our social status gives us identity, rules to live by, and structure. Without those givens, we would have to really question the meaning of our existence, the truth of our nature. It makes sense then, that we would want to cling to what we know, to defend it, and even sometimes create it to suit our needs. We are all participants in it and so we feel that what we experience, while subjective, can also be objective and indicative of a culture at large.
But studying social issues goes beyond observation to abstract theories of social structures that separate those who study it from those with opinions in important ways. Sometimes, theory and research are so microscopic in procedure that discussions of phenomena cease to resemble actual conscious experience. And sometimes theories take on vision that lead to seemingly unachievable and inconceivable ends, like the idea that the people on the globe can ever truly live without aggression toward one another. Lofty, unattainable, but necessary in order to work toward a better world.
So, what I’m trying to say and it’s not working - it’s just cluttering in my brain with all the other free-floating details - is that I get frustrated when I say something about something I study, then somebody who does not study what I do tries to counter, and I just get mad because how can they see my point of view to refute it when they haven't read what I've read? So, I was mad.
Then I felt guilty for getting angry, for not being more understanding. Can’t figure it out. Spent a lot of time talking with Dave about it, who just said, "You’re right in what you know, but you have to understand that others cannot see it like you do." He is just SO rational. But I still felt guilty because I had already pressed the send button.
So then I became sad at feeling isolated and felt like I need to hang out at the women’s center more with others who blow me away with their breadth of knowledge regarding human injustice. Gawd, I’m like a gnat compared to their scholarship. I need to be in school instead of couped up here with all my books and my monitor. Pretty soon I’ll start writing a manifesto and collecting addresses….
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I really should stop here, but I need to fast rewind to Friday when Dave and I met downtown for dinner. I had to run some errands first, which included picking up Mary’s dress. It is absolutely beautiful and I’m so thankful Dave could go with me because the people at the store had way too many instructions for me regarding how to assemble the thing. Geez! After that we went for tea at a traditional place that had birds flying freely inside. Dave, who speaks many languages, tweeted at them but they got scared and shut up. What’d he say? It was a sit on the floor place with really cramped seats. We were too big and found that our knees were crammed up against the table and we couldn’t stay very long because it was so uncomfortable.
Afterward we went to Chongdong Theater, where every Tues and Fri traditional Korean music and dance is performed. It was so incredible! Drums are very important to Korean culture, and I have always loved percussion performances. The beating reminds me of the heart and how it represents the life in us. It is a universal instrument - don’t all cultures have drums? And the drums that night were amazing! Five men both creating the beat and possessed by it - it was just, well, exhilarating. The program said that the traditional folk music is free from restraint so as to invoke emotion - and that’s exactly what it does! I couldn’t keep the smile from my face, nor could I keep still. And these men: seems that doing this everyday must become mundane, yet they are still conspicuously seduced by it, like an addiction. I realized, watching them, how easily metaphorical the beating of drums is of sex. The effort it takes to produce the sound, the writhing of bodies to make the beat faster and louder, and the stress of exertion expressed in grimaces. Why don’t they just stop? It feels too good, and the climax is worth it. The audience roared as the excitement was too much for even us to maintain conservative airs. There is no denying humans our sexuality.
After the performance it was cold, late, and we were hungry because we’d only drank tea at dinnertime. Before going to the theater, we’d spotted a restaurant with suntubu (a kind of tofu) and Dave shrieked, "Suntubu, they have suntubu! Ohhh." So we went there for dinner, and it was like they’d totally never had foreign customers before. Dave charmed them with his excellent Korean and we had the best chongol (kind of stew) and the best tubu I’ve ever tasted. It was SO good that even thinking of it now makes me want to taste it again. Our waitress said they make the tubu on the premises. It was so cool.
On the way out of the restaurant, we saw a little dog. Dave bent down to allow the puppy a sniff of his hand, but the dog got scared and peed. He finally let Dave pet him a bit and then we went on our way. The puppy was shy, but he tried to follow us home. We turned to go and he followed. We heard him and every time we turned around he stopped and started to turn back. Poor baby. Dogs have hard lives in this country.
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Today we got up and went to Itaewon to look for gloves. We ate at Pull Hyang Gi and were disappointed that the staff was so unfriendly, even though they didn’t have to speak a word of English to us because Dave handled everything in polite Korean. The meal was delicious, as usual, so we stuffed ourselves. We decided to walk the rest of the way to Itaewon and on the way I got sucked into Kojeon Antiques where Dave was the one who fell in love with an old Chinese wedding chest. I wanted him to have it, but we would’ve had to carry it on the bus and that was just too much of a hassle. We passed. We found some gloves and a hat for Dave, hit the black market for some rootbeer and refried beans, then home.
Somewhere during the trip, Dave realized that he’s sick and not just tired or depressed. He spent the remainder of the day glued to the tube and feeling like crap, while I stared at the monitor and waded through email.
OH - but we got a package delivered today and it was a TOTAL surprise. I swear, it was the best thing in the longest time! My cousins sent me a mug that says, "Give me chocolate or give me death!" filled with leftover Halloween bounty. Ooo, it was so cool! I was so totally thankful that I sent them a .wav file (481k) expressing my gratitude. There is NOTHING like receiving packages while in exile.
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