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A BASKIN ROBBINS SUMMER (Part X of ? If you are ne...
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A BASKIN ROBBINS SUMMER (Part XI of ? If you are new to this story, you can read from beginning, here
After traveling on the vast highways in Seoul, we turned into a quieter area. The streets rapidly became smaller and irregularly paved. We came to a stop in front of a fairly large brick building of seven floors. There was a sign in front that read, “***** gyo hweh” (***** church). My cousins took my bags, and we entered the building.
The ground floor was a large banquet hall/dining room. This building, it turned out, did not have elevators. The second floor had an extremely high ceiling, probably the height of two floors, and contained the sanctuary. As we climbed past, I took a quick glimpse of the plush red carpet, cedar wooden benches and pulpit, and golden cross in front. Churches in Korea did not look so different from churches in America, I thought. The third and fourth floors were composed of classrooms. Definitely Sunday school classrooms. The fifth floor was a rather bland floor, and I could not guess its function. Panting with the effort of climbing the rather steep stairs, we finally turned in on the sixth floor.
My aunt and uncle, who had been sitting at the dining table, rose to greet me with open smiles. It was easy to see where my cousins had gotten their easy and happy manner.
I was again asked many questions, which I tried to answer as best as I could. My cousins joined in as well, and after a few minutes, the focus turned away from me, and to general conversation. I felt like I was part of this family. My uncle abruptly checked his watch and apologized to me. He had to prepare for his sermon. I was soon to discover that my uncle was a very, very busy man. As the head pastor of the church, his duties were many. My aunt and Soo proceeded to show me around the sixth floor, their home, while Tae went back home (which I later discovered was next door).
My room was small but clean. The walls were whitewashed, and fairly stark but for a picture of Jesus praying in a frame. A fancy, dark wardrobe was in the corner. The floor, like nearly all the floors in Korean homes, was of linoleum. I set my bags down, leaned against a wall, and let out a slow breath. I wanted to rest and just be, after all the stimulation my senses had just received.
yakob at 1:11 PM
-----------------
After traveling on the vast highways in Seoul, we turned into a quieter area. The streets rapidly became smaller and irregularly paved. We came to a stop in front of a fairly large brick building of seven floors. There was a sign in front that read, “***** gyo hweh” (***** church). My cousins took my bags, and we entered the building.
The ground floor was a large banquet hall/dining room. This building, it turned out, did not have elevators. The second floor had an extremely high ceiling, probably the height of two floors, and contained the sanctuary. As we climbed past, I took a quick glimpse of the plush red carpet, cedar wooden benches and pulpit, and golden cross in front. Churches in Korea did not look so different from churches in America, I thought. The third and fourth floors were composed of classrooms. Definitely Sunday school classrooms. The fifth floor was a rather bland floor, and I could not guess its function. Panting with the effort of climbing the rather steep stairs, we finally turned in on the sixth floor.
My aunt and uncle, who had been sitting at the dining table, rose to greet me with open smiles. It was easy to see where my cousins had gotten their easy and happy manner.
I was again asked many questions, which I tried to answer as best as I could. My cousins joined in as well, and after a few minutes, the focus turned away from me, and to general conversation. I felt like I was part of this family. My uncle abruptly checked his watch and apologized to me. He had to prepare for his sermon. I was soon to discover that my uncle was a very, very busy man. As the head pastor of the church, his duties were many. My aunt and Soo proceeded to show me around the sixth floor, their home, while Tae went back home (which I later discovered was next door).
My room was small but clean. The walls were whitewashed, and fairly stark but for a picture of Jesus praying in a frame. A fancy, dark wardrobe was in the corner. The floor, like nearly all the floors in Korean homes, was of linoleum. I set my bags down, leaned against a wall, and let out a slow breath. I wanted to rest and just be, after all the stimulation my senses had just received.
yakob at 1:11 PM