The reactions to my beard

I looked at the hair in the sink and then up at my face in the mirror. It had been three years since I had seen my face, and I wasn't sure if I liked what I saw. I figured I'd give it a week or so, to see how I liked it once I got used to it, and then I could grow the beard back if I wanted to.

The week at school was rather funny. I was called Nicholas Cage. I was told that I looked weird. I was told that I looked handsome. I was told that I looked good and bad and young and strange. The kids' reactions to my new face were really funny. When I got my hair cut last month, I made up this elaborate story about how the "scissor monkeys" sneaked into my house late at night and cut my hair. The story went on and on now that the beard was gone too. I even spent half of one class trying to convince my students that I wasn't Ryan at all, but his older brother Tony from the United States just visiting for a few days. The story fell apart, though, when they asked where the real Ryan was.

But the best reactions, of course, came from the ladies. I went to the vegetarian restaurant on Wednesday, and I was quite the topic of conversation. The women (who I don't think realize that I often understand them) called me "ye-boo-da," which means pretty. Not exactly a huge compliment, but there was more. The two single girls that work there came up to me and asked if I had a girlfriend. I said no, to which there was a little giggling. They asked me to sit by them, but I showed them that I already had a table and went over there. Even though I had, in essence, turned them down, they still brought me a special cake toward the end of my meal. It was quite tastey.

Then just last night I went to the OTHER vegetarian restaurant that I frequent. The place is family run, and when I first walked in, only the two young daughters were there. They didn't recognize me. It took their mom walking in and asking about the beard for them to catch on that this was the same guy that eats here twice a week. After they realized who I was, the older sister (who I didn't even realize spoke ANY English, since she had never said anything in English to me before) said that I looked "handsome." I smiled and thanked her, then went about my meal. Soon after, her mother left and her sister sat down to eat dinner. As I went up to pay, she snuck me a nice bag of "dak" (Korean rice cake) just out of her sister's view. I smiled and thanked her, and she stood there grinning at me all the way out the door.

This from a woman who had never said anything more than a few words (in English OR Korean) here an there to me after MONTHS of seeing her at the restaurant.

apparently, Korean women don't like facial hair. Live and learn.

R