Kingpin

I’m thinking of moving to Arlington, Texas.  I just learned there is an international bowling campus and museum there and I’m thinking I’ve never heard of anything so stupidly awesome in all my life.

“The International Bowling Museum and Hall of Fame collects, preserves and researches bowling’s history, provides a suitable home for bowling’s major halls of fame, and makes the museum’s information and collection available to interested parties globally for education, promotion and entertainment.”

A suitable home!  It’s about time!

I did not know that people in over 90 countries spanning 6 continents participate in bowling, making it one of the most popular sports in history.  Even with the shoes?  That’s just crazy.

Also — I’m guessing no one bowls on Antarctica?  Here’s a tip:  trying painting the pins!

I’m crazy for candlepin bowling, which is not “real” bowling, according to the man I married.  For the record, he thinks it isn’t real because I’m better at it than he is.  But kingpin bowling –it’s a different game altogether.   I can’t win at that to save my life.  Trying to fling the ball onto the lane just about flips me off my feet.

But trying is fun.  And bowling with lots of other people is fun.  So a few weeks ago we did just that.  Here’s the pics.

I so want this for my back yard at home.

Who has the best form, I ask you?  Who’s also the worst bowler?   That’s right.  The one with the hat.

We wanna go to Arlington!

Don’t mind us.  We’re just watching Guy bowl. 

No Reading Required

Paper Lanterns, Daegu

This is SO Lord of the Flies!    Daegu

The Monks’ Bathtub, Donghwasa Temples.  Guess they’re serious about minimalism. 

Adorable much?  Harrington’s Pub, Belfast, New Zealand

On Our Way to a Festival, Daegu

Korean Fast Food: Our Favorite!

Pi Day – He Wears it Well

Blatant, I know.

Dear Pig Head, Please Don’t Come True

Are YOU Talking To Me?

Personalities Captured 1,2,3

Fiji, New Year’s Eve 2011

Firewalkers, Fiji

What Can I Say?  He’s 12.

Throw Your Cans, Bottles and Pets Here!

Wellington, New Zealand, Christmas Eve, 2011

Serendipity

…far away, remembering…

It’s been one year since the 9.2 earthquake rocked Japan, causing a tsunami that killed over 15,000 people, and injuring twice that number.  I’m so glad Marvin Kwon wasn’t one of them.

I was in Belfast, Maine that day, sprawled out on my mother’s overstuffed purple couch making extensive lists, preparing to come to Korea.  Marvin was in Sendai, on the coast of Japan,  hovered under a desk in art class at his school, focused on the seemingly ceaseless jolting and jouncing – and his classmate crying nearby.

He remembers this:  Glass breaking. Teachers hustling students onto buses.  Cold, snow.  He didn’t have his coat.  Calmness and apprehension; compliance and fear.  Aftershocks that went on for hours.  A barely warm school bus.   He didn’t know where they would go.  Where they could go.

Sendai, Japan, March 12, 2011

After getting back to his family’s apartment a half a day later, he remembers this:  four days of freezing cold temperatures with very little food.  No mode of transportation.  No clear roadways anyway.  No way to contact his mother, who had remained in Korea.  No understanding of the extent of the damage; of who, of their friends, were alive or dead.  One cold night sleeping in a car.  Only canned tuna and apples to eat, and no other fresh produce to be found.  A father desperate to reach his wife and keep his children safe.

Marvin was 11 years old.

He downplays his own peril, explaining that at the time, he didn’t understand the extent of the destruction.  He doesn’t often share his story, because, after all, he says, he survived (along with his sister and his father.)  When so many have died, been hurt or displaced, there is nothing to complain about.  No reason to call attention to himself.  He insists the lack of looting and chaos, and the absolute patience with which victims waited for food and warm shelter are his strongest memories.

Marvin is in my 7th grade English class.  His writing returns again and again to these days:  a glimpse here, a shocking revelation there.  The memories pop up like a beach ball he’s trying to hold under water.  He knows how lucky he’s been.  But I don’t think he understands how lucky the rest of us are — that he is here — with this handsome smiling face.

With the brightest of futures ahead.