customer satisfaction

School got out early today for a Buddhist ceremony in the temple room down the hall from my office. No one I asked seemed to be able to tell me the occasion for the ceremony, only that "Dongguk is part of Buddhist organization, you know? Like middle school and high school and university is Buddhist." So without any context, I was invited to be that blond girl who doesn't know what's going on in the temple for about an hour. You know, the usual.

At first I was really enjoying myself -- there was a lot of chanting and singing that I didn't understand, but it was fun to bow in time to the traditional music, and it was relaxing to get out of the classroom for a few minutes on a cushy little floor pillow. Nevermind that I had no idea what anyone was saying; I'm here for the experience. After about fifteen minutes of singing and chanting in Korean, a monk was invited to speak... and forty minutes later my left foot was so painfully asleep I was twitching like a fish to keep the blood flowing. One of the English teachers, who was seated beside me on the floor, mouthed, "are you okay?" to me during the speech. I was too embarrassed to admit that sitting indian-style on the floor for an hour was not actually my fave position, especially when only an hour before the ceremony, one of my co-teachers had informed me, "You know for ceremony today you must sit indian-style for whole time. Is that okay?" At the time, I was tickled and confused by his question. He added, "I heard that many Americans cannot sit this way." Oh psh - I think was my response - I've never met an American who can't sit that way. I'll be fine!

It seems I should meditate more often to alleviate the strangeness. Despite my discomfort, I did enjoy hearing the monk speak. It occurred to me every so often amidst his apparent "jokes" (discerned to be so thanks to the polite chuckles of my co-workers) that I had absolutely no idea where I was. For all I knew, this man could be giving a speech on how foreigners are idiots. He could be saying, in perfectly clear Korean, "See that girl over there with the blond hair? She has no idea what I'm saying!" [hahaha] "Let's laugh at her secretly." [hahahaha] But then periodically I would hear a word that I recognized: "Palestine" "Israel" "Cambodia." Also a couple words in Korean that I don't know how to spell correctly in English, roughly translating to "Thanksgiving" "America" and "I am." At one point, he paused, and I could see his mouth warping into a strange shape. He took a quick breath before carefully articulating the words "customer satisfaction" in the middle of a seemingly long sentence. I was the only one who laughed at that. Politely, of course -- but it reminded me that finding humor is easier when the content is recognizable. No, I don't know what he meant by "customer satisfaction," but it engaged me, so I laughed a little as a release. In these situations, like the bigger situation I'm adjusting to right now, it can be difficult to laugh when so much is overwhelming and new. But at the sight of something familiar, a smile just collapses into place, right there where it's always been. Relief.

After the ceremony, one of my co-teachers asked me what I was thinking about. I told her that I enjoyed the speech even though I couldn't understand what was said. She nodded a little, and hesitated, because I know her English is the weakest among all my co-teachers. After a moment, as we made a pile of the little cushy pillows and stacked the prayer booklets on a table, she said, "I'm wondering if all American open like you." Another smile. Relief.