Creepy Crawly Critters!

Aisha, Rianna, and I met up with my host parents later this afternoon, for a drive out to one of Korea’s west-coast beaches, Anmyeon. Unfortunately, as we drove along winding roads westward, the sun which had been blazingly bright earlier in the afternoon, all but disappeared behind a thick wall of clouds. But the visual effect as we viewed the waterfront was quite beautiful, like a pale pastel watercolor, water and sky blending into one another with such subtlety that it was nearly impossible to distinguish the ending of one and the beginning of the other. We walked along the brown beachfront, tiptoeing around tiny hermit crabs scurrying into pencil-thin holes in the sand. The chilly grayish waves rolled over our feet, and the cool breeze blowing in off the coast reminded us that the height of summer was yet a ways away. Limestone crags towered several meters away, and gulls circled above, as if keeping their distance from the milling visitors.
Aisha managed to convince her father to buy her a little snack from the street vendor as we had entered the beachfront. I couldn’t tell at first glance what she was so excited about eating, but it was apparent that she and Rianna found it quite tasty, as they passed the little Styrofoam cup back and forth, taking turns with their toothpicks. Now, I’ve long touted my open-door policy when it comes to eating new foods: I consider myself an open-minded person, willing to take risks, including those of the culinary kind. So, my rule of thumb is this: I will try anything once. Seconds are entirely contingent on personal preference, but that first sampling is more or less obligatory. It’s my pride that eggs me on, I suppose.So when I peered inside the cup at tiny half-moon shaped somethings, about the size of a fingernail, and flanked with deep grooves, I could take a wild stab that this was some kind of six-legged creature. Aisha held the cup out to me, and I could feel my mind work itself into a kind of violent disgust at the proposition of actually eating one of those little creatures. But I managed to talk myself into taking a bite. Chew. Grimace. Chew some more. Contemplate where to spit said creature out. Try not to think about the fact that an actual worm is inside my mouth at this very moment. Swallow. Wish for a cup of water, anything to rinse away the aftertaste of worm. Smile. And that concluded my adventures with roasted silkworm larvae. Trust me, it’s not an experience I intend to replicate any time soon…
After driving home from the beach, we stopped at a “Chinese” restaurant. I love the way that food as you know it suddenly takes on a drastic facelift when in another country. Normal Chinese food for your average Korean would be just as alien in nature were they to sample it at my favorite Asian restaurant back home. We began the meal with a small cup of jasmine tea, which smelled of soft flower petals and tasted like mildly perfumed water. Then Aisha handed me a small dish of noodles mixed with assorted seafood and mushrooms. Most interesting was not the texture but appearance of the cooked jellyfish, which was so transparent that it seemed nearly invisible as I trapped it in my chopsticks. Sweet and sour pork followed, probably the most typical dish on the table by Western standards. And just when I felt my belly would absolutely burst, our waitress brought one more round of dishes, some time of Korean-Chinese creation, akin to spaghetti, but thick with a black, slightly sweet sauce. Even for me, lover of all things foreign, today almost put me over the edge. I think tomorrow I can safely take it down a notch or two.
Back at home, the girls, Mom, and I perused photos of my family back home, and some of our trips together, including Jamestown, Boston, and Martha’s Vineyard. Conversation turned to traveling, and Rianna confessed that going to Europe was something she had long wanted to do. I popped out my bulging collection of photos from my Round-the-World 2006 tour of Europe and Morocco, and we spent the next hour and a half sighing over the beauty of Italy’s Lake Como district, the French Riviera, Morocco’s white-and-blue washed mountain town of Chefchouen, and some of Eastern Europe’s gems, Tallin, Prague, and Warsawa. Seeing these photos again brought intimately back to mind so many delicious memories from my travels, and a thick cloud of nostalgia enveloped me. I could sense in Rianna the same dreamer’s heart that led me to such faraway places.“This is why my mother wants me to study English,” she told me.“Yes,” I replied, “so the world can be yours.”“You’ve changed my life,” Rianna spoke again. At first, I thought her words filled with drama. But as she continued, I could sense the genuine nature of her words. “Before, I thought learning English was just work, to make my parents happy, to get into a good school, to have a future. But now that I have seen these photos, I know that speaking English well is what will allow me to see the world. I know now what I am going to do. I will study, study, study so that I can learn English well. And I will travel all over the world, just like you.”Her comments, so honest and tinged with the fire of determination, burned through me, and I saw myself years before, heady with dreams and hopeful that I could find a way to make them come to life. The path hasn’t been easy to find, and certainly has led me in some incredibly unusual directions. But 31 countries and many years later, I am here, sitting on a leather sofa in middle-class South Korea, shaping the future for this young woman who, I only hope, will hold onto her dreams and allow herself to go as far as her heart desires.