The Secret to Eternal Youth

The sun popped out today from behind the seemingly impenetrable wall of milky clouds that have owned the skies now for days. On my morning hike yesterday, I felt as if I were muck around in a soup bowl -- everything seemed murky and dim, as if the low-lying cloud consuming us had somehow desaturated the colors of the usually vibrant trees surrounding me to an almost dingy sort of green. But today, heading to the hilltop from my lowly apartment, I was greeted with the greatest of surprises -- a deep blue sky peppered with billowy bubbles of cloud, and the feeling of sun, warm and delicious on my skin.
Seosan hasn't done much for my tan, unfortunately. Color doesn't come easily to this fair-skinned, freckled girl, and in all honesty, I worked quite hard for the base tan I built up before arriving here. It's funny, but just as was the case in Taiwan, women actually go to great lengths to keep any unsuspecting sunrays from bronzing their delicate skin. They carry parasols down busy city sidewalks in full sunlight, and don long cotton gloves that cover them from sleevecap to fingertip to keep their arms milky white. On the hiking trail each morning, I pass dozens and dozens of women covered literally from head to toe in long pants, long-sleeve shirts, visors, and some kind of face mask. I've seriously contemplated the reasoning behind these last two, particularly since we are, after all, on a MOUNTAIN trail, which is practically covered with a thick canopy of trees, and hence very little sunshine filters through. I still haven't come up with
a good explanation for it...
I had a discussion yesterday with one of my middle school classes about this very thing. We've been talking about vacations and summer break lately, which is coming up in a few weeks for them (one month off of school, beginning July 19th). And last night we read an article about how tempting it is to spend a day soaking up the sun on the beach, and that "healthy glow" we get when we've spent some time in the sun. Four girls looked up at me with a puzzled expression on their faces, and after a few minutes of conversation on the topic, I had at least convinced them that, to the Western mind, a tan is a beautiful thing. Still, I don't think they'll be turning in their umbrellas for sunglasses anytime soon...
So as the days go by here, I feel my hard-won suntan fading away. I suppose I could just accept the fact that, at least in this part of the world, "white is beautiful." On the bright side, I may have
stumbled upon the Korean secret to longlasting youth!