4/13/09 P-Day Email

RoseE writes:

"Dear everybody,

Wow did I have a lot of e-mails today. Thank you! I miss you all so much.

Biggest news of the world is: I saw Cat in Conference! The American missionaries watched the broadcast in English, with swarms of strange Korean snack food and Easter candy from the States. I was watching the choir like a hawk, and then Cat came on and I nearly knocked over the table jumping up and yelling "That's my sister! That's my sister!" I scared the elders half to death, but I don't care. I got to see my sister.

Conference was wonderful and sad. Wonderful, because it was so nice to just sit down and listen to the speakers and think about my own spiritual progression and enjoy hearing the voices of the prophets. We do not have this time in Korea. I have to write a lesson plan in Korean every morning, and that takes my whole study time if not more, so I have not been able to even read the scriptures since I got here. It is hard. I'm trying to find spare seconds to keep going through the new testament and the Book of Mormon in Korean, my two immediate goals. And Jesus the Christ. Man, I want to finish Jesus the Christ. I love that book.

But all my free time this week was eaten by D&C 4. Apparently I was supposed to have shown up knowing D&C 4 in Korean by heart--though I've not yet met a missionary who actually did. So I crammed it down. In a week and a half. The whole thing. Because I want to do something other than memorize D&C 4, so the quicker I get it done the happier I'm going to be.

This was a rough week on the investigator front--most of our scheduled appointments fell through, and one sister that I never got to meet just told us she didn't want us to come anymore. So that was rough. And we invited everybody and their aunt Suzie to conference, and nobody came. *sigh* But on the member front, it was a great week. Pak Eun Keong, an inactive sister who told Sister Hill months ago "I appreciate what you're doing, but I'm not ever going back to church," told us two days ago, "Oh, by the way, I'm coming to church next week." I only saw the end of this miracle, but miracle it certainly was. (Sister Montgomery and Sister Hill were both working in one another's areas last transfer, so they compare notes a lot.) And the members have been feeding us like crazy -- which is good, because I'm still struggling to figure out how to feed myself.

One gentleman from Yeonsan ward took us and our Yeonsan elders to this restaurant where we ate . . . a pig. It was all neatly cut into pieces, but there it was, the whole blessed pig. Including the parts that you just don't eat. We ate. But the craziest part was the rice. They brought the rice out in these stone bowls, absolutely scorching hot. You scoop the rice from the stone bowl into a ceramic one to eat it. And I thought, "Man, they're going to have a heck of a time getting that rice off those stone bowls. I hope they pre-soak them." And then, lo and behold, a waitress came around and poured hot water into each bowl, which I thought was very sensible. We then all put the wooden lids back on our stone bowls and went back to the pig (and the bowls of very spicy, very hot (served boiling) seafood soup). Every now and then someone would take the lid off their stone bowl and scrape some of the soaked-off rice off the side of it. Very considerate, I thought. They'll be easy to wash now.

And then when the pig was done we all ate the hot rice-water. By that time I was beyond caring that I was eating what I'd thought was dishwater, because the soup was so spicy and there was no more drinking water on the table, and I needed Water and Starch and I Didn't Care.

Edibility is all very relative. I have yet to see a Korean eat an apple or a potato with the skin on. They just don't do it. Why on earth would you eat the skin of a potato? Why on erth would you not eat a pig foot?

But everybody is very impressed that I like kimchi. Most Americans assume I am lying about this.

There's a family of recent converts who run a restaurant a few blocks away from the chapel. They are SO sweet. We stopped in to bring them flowers and say hello, and the mom sat us down and gave me a blanket (I don't know why she thought I needed a blanket) and fed us potatoes and strawberries. (We peeled the potatoes.) Saturday night we went to dinner at their restaurant, with like ALL the leadership of Yeonsan ward who'd just got out of priesthood session. It was very Boys' Club; Sister M. and I left early and went home to dye easter eggs with Sisters Hill and Pak Song Hee. Sister Pak had never dyed easter eggs before.

Sis. M's big project is to make a map with all the members of Sujeong ward mapped out on it. This is well-nigh impossible. We need to teach and baptize a postal worker who can help us with locating addresses. Maybe we'll find that one of the inactive members we are trying to find has such a vocation. That would be so nice. We stole from the Sujeong elders a giant map book (you cannot navigate Pusan without a giant map book) to help us in our quest.

Okay, I think I have attached some pictures here. I gave it a shot. Anyway, one's of the room in our apartment where I study and we all sleep. We're lucky enough to have mattresses under our yos (sleeping mats) because we bullied them away from the Elders, who had like nine and were sleeping on stacks of them.

One is the view from the top of the memorial garden I told you about last week. It is So amazing.

Then there's one of the cherry blossom stream thing. I took a lot, but this one captures the colors best.

Then there's me eating pig intestine. Note Sister Pak's cheerfully oblivious grin.

And last but not least, Sister Montgomery (my companion) and Sisters Pak and Hill dyeing Easter eggs last night.

So we'll see if this sends now that it has big huge picture files dragging along behind it.

What do I like most about the Korean people so far? Um . . . I love that they're so willing to be friendly with people who are genuinely interested in them and their country and their language. Even my bad, stuttering Korean will make the halmonis on the subway smile at me and chatter incomprehensibly. And I love visiting the members' houses. Even though I'm scared to death of offending somebody with my inept Korean table manners, I love the feeling in these homes. Somebody's well-used Korean triple combination* is always sitting on a handy shelf. Pictures of Christ and of their families are on the walls. And they just feel . . . safe. Peaceful. A relief. Even to a stranger.

Anyway, P-Day lies ahead, and today we are going to the biggest mall in Asia. So . . . pictures of that next week!

Dad, I am writing you a letter. Emily, you too.

I love you all so, so much. And I miss you. Keep being such good people, and loving the Lord, and praying for me. I need those prayers every day, because missionary work is _so hard_ and I know I can't do it by myself.

RoseE"



* triple combination: The Bible, the Book of Mormon, and the Doctrine and Covenants.

Blogmom Note: I can't get the pictures to download from this computer; I'll have to add them from our home one later.

A Note From President Jennings . . . with Pictures!

President Jennings is the president of the Busan South Korea Mission. His wife also has many responsibilities with the mission. They wrote:

"Brother and Sister Hadden

I am emailing to confirm the safe arrival of Sister Hadden in the Korea Busan Mission. We picked everyone up late Tuesday (no missing luggage!) and Wednesday was a full day of preparation and training. We began with a get-acquainted interview, opening bank accounts, preparing “green card” documentation, and other administrative chores to get everyone set up.

Then the new Elders and Sisters had a training exercise which combined cultural exploration and proselyting activities. Everyone did “soapboxing” on the subway and the group passed out about 100 copies of the Book of Mormon and collected over 35 new contacts! While all this was going on, I was deliberating over companionship and area assignments.

Upon returning to the Mission Home we had a testimony meeting (in Korean) and a magnificent dinner the likes of which they won’t see again for some time. Then I gave a presentation about Korea and my expectations for them and announced companionship assignments. The trainers were all carefully selected and we depended on observation and, of course, inspiration to align the very best teams


Sister Hadden will be trained by Sister Montgomery who is one of the youngest sisters I have ever called as a trainer – and for very good reasons.. She is simply one of our best missionaries and will be a great help to Sister Hadden in getting a great start with the Korean culture and language. Sister Hadden’s first assignment is in the Yeonsan and Sujeong Wards here in Busan (sisters often serve in multiple areas). Both of these are large, active wards in the Busan Stake and Sujeong serves as the Stake Center. Four Sisters live together in that apartment although they are assigned to different Districts. It is an excellent environment for a new Sister Missionary..

Attached is a picture of Sister Jennings and I with Sister Hadden and Sister Montgomery, and one of their group taken upon arrival at the airport. We will also be sending some other photos to you by regular mail.

Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions.

Faithfully,
Kenneth W. Jennings, Jr.
Korea Busan Mission

First Contact - 4/6/09

RoseE writes:

"This may have to be in pieces because I am on a coin-operated computer in the lobby of a hospital, and I don't have many coins. So we'll see what happens.

Oh my gosh Korea is the craziest thing I have ever done, including that time I slept in the Chicago airport. Some parts are so fantastic I can't even tell you. Some parts . . . well, I've gone through some kleenex and misplaced a handkerchief. But mostly it's good, and mostly it's hard work.

I must tell you about the mokyotang. The mokyotang is amazing. It is like . . . like Chaska community pool meets Disneyland meets the Garden of Eden. "Mokyotang" is a bath house, and our very first morning here we went to the best one in Pusan. It cost maybe five or six dollars apiece, factoring in the exchange rate which is pretty good right now. (Oh, there we go, the computer took my bill now. Okay.) So . . . the mokyotang. It's like this palatial hotel. In fact, I think it is a hotel. But you go to a desk and pay your money and they give you this little key-bracelet and you go towards the side marked "women" into a locker room full of tiny lockers just for your shoes. Your key opens one. The floors are all bamboo mats. Then you go into a bigger locker room with bigger lockers and into these you put . . . everything else. Everything. Then you grab a tiny pink scrubby-towel, which is for scrubbing and not for any kind of modesty, and hustle blushing into the baths.

Oh, my gosh, the baths.

It's this huuuuuge space. In the middle is a pool curved into a yin/yang shape, and each half is a different temperature. Around the room are all different pools: hot pools, cold pools, foot-bathing pools, pools with yellow sand in them, pools with grape juice in them (really), pools of salt water, rocky tunnel-pools, a lap-swimming pool, saunas, rinsing pools, pools with waterfalls to massage your back . . . there's a space open to the sky, the roof just grass mats, with a hot pool and a cold pool and a bubbly pool and a jasmine pool (it looks radioactive . . . it's really neat) and another sauna. And all the pools are filled from the mouths of statues, frogs and fish and deer. There's even a pool with benches in it, and water running down the benches, and stone game boards in the middle so you can play games or read the news or whatever. And in every pool there is at least one old Korean grandma, as naked as the day she was born, who will occasionally stand up and swing her arms around to slap her torso (this has something to do with positive energy flow, or something) and stare at you not because you are naked but because you are waygukin, white girl. And when you're done playing in all these different pools, including nearly twisting your foot off because you couldn't see the bottom of the yellow-sand-thing pool, you go to this row of low mirrors and sit on a little butt-shaped stool and scrub yourself off with this creamy white soap and your little pink scrubby-towel, and spray off with a sprayer that they have right there, and brush your teeth in the tooth-brushing sink (very sweet Korean toothpaste provided) and rinse off again in the all-around shower (hot or cold, your choice) or with a scoop filled at another just-for-scooping pool, or both, and then you leave the baths and to to this long vanity where they have combs and hair dryers and lotion and conditioner and q-tips, and do your hair, and then you get dressed and go get your shoes out of the little shoe-locker and leave feeling cleaner than you have ever felt in the entire course of your entire life. Oh, my gosh. I think if there were such a bath house in America there would be a huge scandal, but I also think I would go every day anyway.

So after we were clean and had breakfast (they have aloe juice here--aloe juice! With aloe chunks in it! It's so good) and ran some going-to-the-bank kinds of errands, we and the missionaries who were destined to be our trainers RAN (I hate running) to the subway and tracted for hours. It was hard and scary. And then we had lunch of spicy Korean food, over which I started crying, and then we tracted some more and then went back to the mission home, where I started crying again. (Sister Jeung held me and hummed "Poor Wayfarin' Stranger--she doesn't know the words, but she loves the tune) I also fell asleep on the floor in the midst of picture-taking time. Then my new companion, Sister Montgomery, woke me up and took me home.

So . . my awesome suitcase? The wheel broke in transit. So we dragged it to the subway station because no one would let me carry it, seeing as how I couldn't stand up straight for jet lag, and a bunch of stuff broke off it on the way, and I cried on the subway again, and then we walked up a long hill in the middle of Pusan in the middle of the night to our apartment.

We share an apartment with another companionship of sisters, Hill and Pack Song Hee. It is a little apartment in a BIIIG tower, and all four of us sleep on two big mattresses pushed together on the floor. There is a tiny room when you first come in just for your shoes, and you're supposed to wear special, separate sandals in the bathroom. I couldn't figure out why until I realized that the shower has no curtain, so everything just gets wet and there's a drain in the middle of the floor to drain it all. All the sisters are really nice, but I like Sis. Pack Song Hee best. She looks Hawaiian, and not Korean at all. She loves to just tackle people and hug them. And she bought me a treat my second night here, of one of her favorite foods -- pig intestine. Yep. And I ate it. (Sister Montgomery told me that later on Pack Song Hee came to the other two sisters and asked, "Don't they eat that in America? She seemed really surprised." When they admitted that no one in America would ever in a million years dream of eating a piece of pig intestine, she felt sooooo bad and was terrified that she'd made me sick. But she didn't. I'm okay.)

Pusan is . . . overwhelming. We're serving in two wards, and one of the wards is accessed from the subway via a market street. I love this street. There are big tanks of live fish, street vendors frying I-know-not-what, little wrinkled grandmas (Korean grandmas are just everywhere; you can't swing a cat without hitting a Korean grandma) whacking seafood with big carving knives or squatting behind baskets of fresh vegetables, cackling to one another while they wait for someone to buy something. There are stores just full of notebooks and trays of 5000-won sunglasses and knockoff designer purses and t-shirts with nonsensical English printed on them. And it seems like every vendor has a tiny dog.

Three times a week, the missionaries teach English class. This is such a party. A bunch of older Korean folks get together to practice their English with the missionaries. One of them is brother Pack Kun Gi (I'm guessing on the spelling here), who is not a member but directs the stake choir and is just stitch-in-your-side funny. He ran to the piano and played "Baby Elephant Walk" and made Sister M. dance to it. When I introduced myself and said I could belly dance, I immediately sat on the lid of the piano and refused to move until he sat down again.

Everyone gives us these tiny drinkable yogurts that Sis. Hill insists are made of cat's milk. She says this because her trainer told her this and she believed her. I, however, have owned cats, and know better.

Everyone in Korea lives in one of two places: 1. an apartment tower (at least twice as tall as the Church Office Building) or a banjee, which is a little house. Since Pusan was not levelled during the war, the banjee neighborhoods stand as they sprang up, probably some time in the fifteen hundreds. There is no rhyme or reason to them whatsoever. They are stacked on top of one another in all kinds of ways, and run up the sides of mountains like a wave washed them up there and they just stuck, helter-skelter. People keep attempting to map and number them, and keep failing. We went into them to visit a member couple who run a store making vegetable-extract juice as a health food. She gave us cups of hot asian pear juice, which is more savory than sweet. But I drank it.

On Saturday we ended up at this place that Dad would have loved. In fact, the brother that brought us there reminded me strongly of my own Dad. Here's why:

1. Saturday is "get in free day" at the memorial.

2. He said "we'll give you a ride to the bishop's house and stop at the war memorial on the way," and we discovered that the memorial is not like a statue, it is like a huge and beautiful temple/garden that nobody knew was there.

3. As we wandered around it, he told us stories about Korean history that nobody else would ever think to know.

4. About halfway through our time there, he just wandered off and nobody seemed to find this alarming. His wife gave us a ride to the bishop's house.

Anyway, the garden was these three courtyards running up the side of the mountain, each courtyard entered by a big beautiful gate and flanked on either side by pretty buildings or statues erected in honor of those who died in such-and-such a battle against the Japanese and passed through by means of a long flight of wide stone stairs to the next courtyard. At the top there was incense burning and you could see down into the city and over to the next range of mountains. It was so beautiful and so quiet after the incessant bustle of Pusan down below.

Oh, and in Korea, you can get a corn dog covered in sugar and coconut. Really!

Oh, and there are no forks in our apartment so the other day I made French toast with soybean oil and chopsticks.

Oh, and I will never want to eat an American apple again. With apples like these it's no wonder the Koreans don't bother with anything fancier than fruit for dessert. OH MY GOSH they are so good.

Today we went WAAAAY to the other side of the city to see the cherry blossoms. There was this amazing little river just packed with yellow flowers, and the cherry blossom trees arced above it. A bunch of Korean soldiers were there, on time off I guess. We all took our pictures with them, and they took their pictures with us. We passed a school and a bunch of little girls hung out the window to yell to us in English.

My stomach is hesitant to accept Korean food as actual food. It keeps waiting for a "normal" meal. Fortunately yesterday a member family (he American, she Korean) fed us, our roommates, and four elders (eight missionaries on Fast Sunday), chicken fajitas. I nearly cried, but as I need to get more Kleenex I refrained from so doing. I just ate two, with lots of sour cream, and we took a bunch of the chicken home.

I am having a **** of a time remembering anybody's name. All the Koreans are having the same problem with my name. I am writing all the names down everywhere and cramming them at every possible second.

One of our wards is like 95% inactive, and those who are active don't like each other. Ugh. The other ward is AMAZING, and the Relief Society 1st (2nd?) counselor reminds me of Rebecca Dykman. I went on a split to this ward last week, and stood up in Sacrament meeting to introduce myself. As I walked shaking back to my seat, all the sisters on my side of the chapel gave me not-very-discreet thumbs up. Awwww, I love Yeonsan ward.

All the rooms are heated with gas heaters, and when they are not running the rooms get very cold very fast.

I understand hardly anything that anybody says to me. I hope at least that I am cute.

I am so scared of prostelyting I can't even tell you.

We get an hour for e-mail now. Yaaaaay!

I am almost out of time on this computer. I love you so much, and I miss you so much.

RoseE"

Still No Word

Postage is 94 cents for anything less than 1 ounce going to South Korea.

Phone Call From the Airport

RoseE actually did call, and Teancum and I got to talk to her.

She is very excited to be going to Korea (via Los Angeles and Seoul then Busan).

Todd "happened" to meet her at the airport as he was flying out to Long Beach, CA. I hope he gives her a hug.

Cat's message to her was: be good, be safe, and don't die. I passed that along, and added Cat's work phone number in case she has a chance to call her sister directly.

I did not cry, but only just.

Shipping Out

RoseE flies out of Salt Lake City this morning at 0945, going to LAX, and from there to Korea.

She say she gets to call home from the airport.

I think I'm going to cry. Again.

Excerpts From President Jennings to Grama Hadden 5/6/09

RoseE's grandmother, JoAnn, knows President Jennings' son Ken, and wrote to President Jennings about the connection.

President Jennings wrote back:

"Sister Hadden:

I received your letter that you sent through "Dear Elder" today and my wife and I were delighted that you are following Sister Hadden's progress here in Busan Korea. I called her tonight and told here that we received a letter from you and her response was "Oh, no!" We laughed a lot.

Sister Hadden is doing very well. As you indicated, her ability to learn a new language is quite amazing. Korean is much more difficult for native English speakers than are the Indo-Eurpoean languages, but she is well ahead of the curve for new missionaries. Interestingly, in a foreign culture where interactions are based on different verbal and non-verbal signals than we are used to in the West, I don't believe that a person with Asperger Syndrome* will have much of a problem. It's all new to everyone here. In any case, I have not seen any evidence of difficulty between companions or with local member relations. . .

. . . Our family was raised in Korea and Singapore where I worked for over 15 years as an attorney specializing in international joint ventures and technology licenses. . .

We love Sister Hadden and she is already making a remarkable contribution to our mission. I wouldn't worry about her ability to fit in and do her part without any difficulty. After all, the Lord qualifies whom he calls, and she was called to THIS mission by a Prophet of the Lord. What more can we ask?

Faithfully,
President & Sister Jennings
Korea Busan Mission"



*Asperger's syndrome: (also called Asperger's disorder, Asperger's or AS) is a high-functioning autism spectrum disorder (ASD), and people with AS therefore show significant difficulties in social interaction and restricted, stereotyped patterns of behavior and interests. AS runs in our family, although RoseE has never been diagnosed with it.