I ask a lot of questions. Actually, I ask A LOT of questions. I like to know how things work. Who, what, when, where, why and how rank high on my list of favourite words.
Tour guides hate me.
Living abroad has made me realize that there are some answers I will never know.
Yesterday provided an excellent example. I was sitting all alone in the staffroom.
[About half an hour earlier, everyone had up and left. This happens on a regular basis and no longer bothers me. Either there is a staff meeting (I don’t have to go since I don’t speak Korean) or they are all in the gym eating pigs’ feet and kimchi.]
Suddenly the door opened and a woman walked in. She seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see her. She carried a large pizza.
“Please, eat,” she said in Korean.
She bowed several times and left.
I stared at the pizza mystified. Who was she? Why did she bring pizza? Was it for me? Could I eat a piece or had someone ordered it for a specific purpose? Was this a real pizza, or was it like Snow White and the apple? Was there some way I could eat a piece and blame it on someone else? Perhaps I could just pick a few of the toppings off…
When the teachers came back, they were equally as mystified. But the mystery didn’t stop them from inhaling the entire pizza.
Chances are, I will never know who the woman was or why she brought the pizza, but I thank her for it. It was delicious.