Strangely Heartbroken

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It went to game seven. Once again the stakes were high, the pressure on, and the Cinderella team from good ol' Alberta lived up to the pressure and brought 'er to a suspenseful game seven of the Stanley Cup Playoffs: the best sports scenario in the history of sports. In Korea, spirits were high, booze was flowing....game six was a blow out to top it all off. On Sunday the Rocky Mountain Tavern looked just like SChanks did, I imagine...people strewn all over the place in plastic deck chairs and camped out on the floor in the spaces between the seats. It was a beautiful sight, even more moving when the anthem came on and the bar, in unison, stood in swaying respect for their country, voices and glasses raised, hearts pounding. A world away and somehow the promise of a Stanley Cup at home was even more exciting, more DIRE to the expat community than it probably was in Canada. We were a room full of people that desperately wanted to feel proud of our country. And when you travel, that is what is often the intent...to appreciate home, and to share your pride with a whole planet.

OK, so I went a little over board. I spent a good couple of days feeling terrified to go back in there. My last memory of the bar was clinging to Corry's shoulder as I stumbled down the stairs and bailed into a cab. And if he hadn't of found me, I am sure I would have woken up Monday morning clinging to the porcelain in the corner of the bathroom. That's what you get for 14 hours in one bar, and a Carolina slaughtering. But Corry was right, if I'm gonna have a night like that, SUnday was as good of a time as any to do it...that was the spirit of the bar, and I fit right into the chaos. It's easy to get over embarassment when no one remembers anyway.

And I had the opportunity to learn a very valuable lesson...when in an unfamiliar place, do not let yourself go out of commission. I have never been more vulnerable. Granted, I think I feel more comfortable in that bar then I do in my own house, but there was a slight problem...work in the morning, in Bundang, 45 minutes away. WHen you can't see it is hard to direct a cab driver to your house, in Korean, in the middle of the night. Nonetheless, I somehow miraculously got into Bundang, though on an unfamiliar street, and found myself in a bush somewhere. But it was this night I realized, to the full extent, the beauty of Korea. A man in a white van...at home bells would be going off all over the place...pulled up beside me as I aimlessly stumbled all over myself down unknown streets in Bundang, crying and scared I was doomed to be lost until the morning when the drunken haze lifted. Apparently he offered me a ride though I don't remember. He somehow managed to get me to my front door. Nowhere else can a person get completely annhilated and trust the kindness of a culture to save you a bring you home. Whoever that angelic person was, I owe them my life....quite seriously.

But yesterday was a downer. Granted my heart is always all for the Flames, the energy was undeniable. After the celebrations on Sunday, everyone was craving a repeat on a grander scale...well everyone aside from my wallet that was screaming at me to taker down a notch. But, in the end, both my spirit and my cash ended up a little drained. Maybe it is for the best. Eventually I will have to break this habit and start putting all of my funds into the piggy bank. I have to remember why I came here.

This, I believe, is a recurring theme for many an English teacher. How easy it is to forget in the heat of a moment.

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Photos

Fernando
"there was something in the air that night..."

Stefan
He was a happy camper

Me and Bri
pumped....before the tires deflate