Have a Good Time

I am embarassed when I reflect on the state of my English fluency these days. “I must pay these bills, you can help?” I ask the greeter at the bank. Sounds like this when I am come home? Wonders I.
The truth is, I enjoy being limited to the most basic of interactions, especially the unexpected zen-like gems after a long day. For instance, in a taxi last night:
"American?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, Korea and America are friends forever!”
“Ah, yes!”
That's right, in Korea a geopolitical alliance can be summed up in one word: biffles. It extends to guest workers like myself and shopkeepers. Every time I leave my favorite convenience store, the clerk waves me off with an energetic “Have a good time!” in heavily-accented English. I felt an instant connection the first time this happened, when I bought a bottle of soju- the Korean equivalent of vodka, but smoother, fatally smooth when the next morning rolls around. He must be remembering his own glory days, I thought. However, when I bought some Halls for my sore throat later that week and he exclaimed even more enthusiastically, “HAVE A GOOD TIME!” I had to raise my eyebrows. He might not be using the phrase exactly right, but I appreciate it just the same. I'll really try my best to have a blast with my cough drops and ramen noodles tonight.
This interaction is Korea in a nutshell. It's so easy to have fun here; nothing ever closes, transportation is cheap and easy, and there are neon-flashing signs for cafes, bars, and karaoke rooms every meter. It is so ironic that this country is often stereotyped as hyper-stressed and rigid, when it can be such a playground. Whether I'm preparing for a 7 am night in Seoul, or roasting raw pork on a table grill, I reflect on Korea's uniqueness. In most of the world, bars would close at 2 a.m., and someone has to drive. There would be no twilight barbecue with vapors reviving tired businessmen and healing the drunk, let alone in your own apartment building. Thanks Korea, I will have a good time.