Saturday, June 13, 2009

Visions of Korea I

It's 4 PM on a Thursday afternoon, and the sun's harshly fixed midday glare has softened into an unkindly warm stare. I'm running around Lake Park, my t-shirt already clammy and lungs aching gently, throbbing to remind me of my foolishness in exerting myself thusly. As I run past two ajumas - well past 50, with over-permed over-dyed hair - headed the other way, eying my flailing limbs suspiciously, I see this slogan emblazoned on a flimsy, oversized t-shirt layered under a thin black wool cardigan:


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