Foreigners

There is simply no hiding it… I’m a foreigner.

Blond haired, hazel eyed, and 5’8″.

Yes, the Koreans in the elevator who wanted to take selfies with me verified it.

I have no clue what they were saying to me.

But at least through hand gestures I could figure out it was because I was so tall.

Oh yeah and they were definitely all business men.

Left that off in my Facebook post to avoid any naughty comments.

Not that I have friends who make naughty comments.

But one can never be too safe.

The weird thing was I had literally been walking back to the hotel thinking about how good for me it is that I do stand out.

I’ve realized during these days in Seoul that how as Americans I don’t think we can fathom what it is like to a foreigner.

I kid you not so much of what I see as I travel this city is written in English.

The spoken part – not so much – I’m very happy to have a translator with us.

But given my physical appearance – every single person I pass knows I’m lost.

No matter how confidently I  walk, how sure of myself I act… they are going to expect me to be lost.

So, I can cut myself some slack, not have it all together, and enjoy being lost.

That’s what I realized tonight at church.

Yes I can follow along with my English translation, but I literally have no idea what I’m doing or what they are saying. And I had to let go and just enjoy being a foreigner.

Somewhere in life I professed to myself that I had to have it all together.

And here I am, totally lost, taking selfies with strange business men in elevators… and the world hasn’t fallen apart.

Actually, the world feels just a little bit lighter.

And by the way the people were happily bowing to me at the sign of peace – they could care less if I’m lost too.

 

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