I nneed to simlate a really long descripton so that i can now what dav is atlking about and so i can try to fix wjat the problem dould be so i am going to copy and pste a very large block of text and put it here m. It was a little hard adjusting, I didnt speak Korean and Id lived in California all my life, but as a sixteen-year old girl I was fairly adaptable and quickly made friends at the new school Id started attending.My mom was an administrator at a local university and she was there pretty much all day, so after school Id come home, cook dinner, clean the house, and maybe go out to buy groceries if we needed anything.Since there was only the two of us, my mom and me, Id quickly learned to pull my weight.In the beginning it was really weird. Just going out to the store was like some magical mystery tour. Mostly I shopped at Lotte Mart, which is like this super big chain out here in South Korea, and sometimes, if I was especially craving western food, Id go over to Namdaemun Market near the old south gate.Id spend hours in those places, just browsing the shelves and generally marveling at all the things you could buy in Korea that you couldnt buy in America, but I must have looked hopelessly out of my depth, most of the time I couldnt figure out what the hell I was supposed to be buying, so Id rely on strangers to advise me on what went with what.I remember one day going shopping, just cruising the aisles, and at one point there was this tall guy standing behind me, wearing a hood up over his head, and he was smiling down at me as I rifled through seventy varieties of noodles. He was really good looking he seemed to understand I was a foreigner and he gave me this small thumbs-up gesture. Like he wished me good luck.I met him a bit later on in the fresh fish section and since hed kind of broken the ice with that thumbs-up, I decided to take a chance and ask his advice on what kind of fish went with kimchi-jjigae. He seemed taken aback when I spoke to him and he peered at me really suspiciously. He looked like he was about to bolt. I thought maybe he didnt speak English, so I tried a few words of Korean, but honestly, my accent was Goddamn awful.He laughed at that point. He seemed relieved about something.Youre American? he said.Yeah, I nodded, but my moms Korean we just moved here.He nodded and smiled, and Damnnnnn from what I could see underneath that hoodie, that boy was smoking hot. He was about nineteen or twenty, and he was tall with a sparse, muscular physique. He stooped a lot - the way tall people do when theyre trying to look less noticeable.He recommended that I not use fish with my kimchi-jjigae. He said he preferred pork belly marinated in rice wine.We got to chatting after that. He said his name was Park and he was a sessions musician. I told him a little about myself and after that we ended up going for a coffee he seemed lonely, and nervous, and kept looking over his shoulder, the way a kid does when he expects to get caught by grown-ups.A lot of young girls had been going missing in Seoul recently so I was a bit nervous about hooking up with a stranger. But Park seemed like a regular guy. His English was good. He told me hed lived in Phoenix, Arizona, when he was a kid.You like Seoul? he asked as he stirred his coffee.Im getting used to it, I guess.You look American, he noted, thats a good thing - I was curious. Why is that a good thing? I asked.In Seoul, people who look different really stand out, he shrugged: you stand out.Thanks I think.So, why did your mom move here?I didnt feel comfortable talking about my parents divorce so I said she just wanted to get back in touch with her heritage.I think he read between the lines because he didnt say anything else about it.After that we talked about regular stuff and it was amazing how easy I felt in his company, like Id known him for ages, he had a great sense of humor but he was really shy and every time someone got too close hed tug his hood down over his face and turn away from them.I wound up giving him my number.Well. Listen, he said as he got up at last to leave, I hope things turn out ok for you.At school the next day I met up with my friend, Song, during recess. She was sitting in a corner of the playground, reading CeCi, a popular gossip magazine, and instantly I and it is done