bad metaphor

In a Korean workplace, it’s customary for co-workers to just randomly give each other gifts. Cookies, tangerines, rice cakes, etc. My favorite gifts are the tangerines – like the strawberries here, they are supernaturally sweet. My least favorite gifts are these giant blocks of rice cake, which look like this:

Oh joy a rice cake thanks.

Usually I’ve learned to accept gifts with grace by saying thank you: “Kamsa hamnida“, and immediately stashing the gift in my drawer, either to be consumed later if it’s a tangerine, or offered to students (or the food trash receptacle) if it’s a rice cake.

I was offered the strangest gift of all today: a dog. A Yorkshire terrier, to be exact.

Let me back up – a few months ago, I had written an essay for the school yearbook. My co-teacher wanted me to write something summarizing my first year in Korea, so I wrote briefly about my experiences, bonding with the students, yadda yadda. I think I had written something about feeling lonely and isolated when I first arrived, as almost every foreigner feels. Anyway, apparently that line really stuck with one of the other teachers, who came up to me and mentioned that she “felt concern for [my] lonely,” and though I insist that I am doing okay now, she still mentions it every other time we chat. She’s a really sweet lady.

Anyway, we were chatting briefly after lunch today, and she talked about her dogs. She has seven of them, and one recently had puppies. “Wow,” I said, “what are you going to do with all those puppies?” She said she’s going to keep them (no, not for stew, har dee har har), because she has a big property in a pretty rural area. Anyway, I wonder if she maybe mistook my interest in what she was going to do with those puppies, for an interest in said puppies, for then she suddenly offered me a dog. “I feel that you are lonely, so I want to help you!”

“Oh, thaaaanks,” said I, a little flabbergasted. Uh…I like dogs and all, but I kind of don’t really want a dog. Not just yet, anyway. (Think how the hedgehog would feel). I was moved by her gesture, but the responsible animal owner aspect of me is just always shocked whenever someone offers another person a pet as a gift – what if the recipient can’t properly take care of the pet? What if the recipient doesn’t want the pet (as in my case)? Though she meant it very sincerely, and it was really quite sweet. She’d take the dog back when I go back to the States, so there wouldn’t be the issue of me dumping it off at the pound (or bosintang restaurant) I’m actually friends with another foreign teacher who would LOVE to have a substitute dog while she’s here, but I’m not sure if the woman will be offended if I pass off her very heartfelt gift to a stranger.

What’s interesting is that she didn’t offer me one of the puppies; she offered me her Yorkshire terrier, who’s about 7 years old, and from the way she talks, he might be her favorite dog. She also mentioned that I might have to re-potty-train this dog, since he’s become accustomed to running around this huge property and might have forgotten how not to poo on the floor and stuff. I, never having owned a dog – only felines, who generally know where to put their business – haven’t the foggiest idea of how to train one. Sometimes even taking care of the hedgehog is overwhelming to my exhausted self; the thought of cleaning the poop off her exercise wheel is a little less exciting than studying Korean grammar or a DIY root canal, you know?

I told her that I’d never owned a dog, and that I was really more of a cat person, but I’m not sure she really understood, because she said “expect a dog when you return from your vacation!” and left the room. Hoo boy. This isn’t exactly the sort of gift I can just stash in the drawer and toss in the bin later. Again, this setup would be perfect for the friend I know who wants a dog while she’s in Korea, but I’m not sure how to propose this without offending.

There are two types of dogs in this country: those wearing clothes, and those in stew. This would be a very patriotic example of the former.

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