They've always had these monthly meetings. I actually went to a couple of them when we first moved in. It's pretty much just a bunch of ajumas (married women) sitting around yaking. In Korean, of course. They usually have some small snacks and drinks, and they were always very friendly to me. But it seemed like a bit of a waste of time to me. Mostly I couldn't figure out what they were talking about, and when I could, it didn't seem important. Though one time I was there and the husband of the hostess came back from fishing. He headed back into the kitchen, and soon came out and asked me to join him in another room. So I did. And he served up some very fresh raw fish salad, with fresh greens and lots of pepper paste sauce. If you don't think that sounds good, it's better than you would think, and if you do think it sounds good, you're right. But the entertaining moments like that were few and far between (there was only the one, actually), so I stopped going.
That was a couple of years ago. More recently, they agreed to protest, as I said. They got themselves some people to play traditional drums, and they carry some signs, and they block the cement trucks from coming and going. They also agreed that a good way to get more people to come to the demonstrations would be to charge them $20 a month if they don't come.
[correction, $20 per week, $10 per protest. See next entry.]
Now I am all in favor of public protest. I once considered changing my middle name to "Powertothepeople." But this sort of economically enforced protesting really chaps my hide. I am now considering organizing an anti-protest protest. A bunch of us will march on the opposite side of the street, deliberately not impeding the cement trucks, and carrying signs that say, "Go Developers!" and "We Love You, Samsung!"
OK. Time for the truth. Actually I suggested to my wife that maybe we could both not protest and not pay the $20. After all, how are they going to punish us? Horyon said that they would annoy her constantly if we didn't chip in, do our part, give our best for the gipper. So when they came around with a petition yesterday, Horyon signed it and put her thumb print on it.
We talked briefly about moving out of this apartment, but decided that it would not be worth the trouble. Instead, we will just spend a couple of days pretending that we are moving, and throw away half of our stuff. That should be satisfying.
Sigh. Now we have become part of the machine. I think the only thing that can cheer me up is a couple of gratuitous pictures of Maxine.
First, we combine the lay-on-your-back floor toy with roll over. Take your eye off her for a minute, and Maxine manages to stop playing with the toy, roll over, and get turned sideways under her toy. She usually gets upset at this, but if I talk to her, she doesn't mind, and even smiles to get her picture taken.
Oh, by the way. I did practice a little digital manipulation to give this photo a more balanced look. Because of the light and shadows, in the original picture, Maxine had a twinkle in only her right eye. It made her look strange, in a subtle way. So I copied the right eye twinkle and pasted it into her left eye. Much better, I think. You can judge for yourself.
The other is a standard view of Maxine lieing on her back. The floor mat she is on is more of a thick blanket, like a quilt. It's her favorite place to be, as she quickly gets tired of being held.
I don't know why it says "cuby mom" on it. Horyon is not shaped like a cube, and neither is the fairy above the words. Every time I look at this, I ponder the idea of a cuby mom. More extreme than a mother who is a bit square, I suppose.That's all for now.
Peace,
Rob
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