I saw a Korean penis today.

I am surprised at how much it caught me off guard, but I suppose that's normal. I mean, unless you're in a certain line of work (prostitution, nursing, Washington D.C. intern), you should be shocked when you see a penis that belongs to someone you don't know (well).

Ok, if someone would have warned me maybe the shock wouldn't have been so great and I wouldn't have done what I did. However, I couldn't have known what was to happen on this particular day. No phallic "visions" that morning, no dreams about rocket ships the night before. You cannot predict these things as you would the weather…"Well folks, it looks like a possibility of light showers and perhaps a wayward penis by this afternoon…"

I'm not going to lie; I've seen a fair share of penises' in my life. American, German, English, for the most part, they look the same- no big surprises (no, unfortunately, no big surprises). But as I walked home from work that morning, my body trying its best to get the flu, I must say that any penis, much less a Korean penis, was the last thing on my mind. This Korean penis was a surprise to me.

As I made my way through the catacomb of alleys and side streets up to my house all I could think of was getting into bed. Thirty minutes ago I felt fine, twenty-five minutes ago a little light headed, and by the end of my last morning class I felt as though I'd been hit by a truck. Or maybe I was wishing a truck would hit me- I don't remember exactly. I was thinking of how I used to spend sick days back home. Suddenly I missed my dog, my couch, and Progresso Chicken Soup, all stupidly left behind in the United States. By this time, I'd made it to the Great Ascent, the last 150 meters of the steep hill that lead to my house. I passed a man standing alone, just off the beaten (or should I say "beating") path that acts as a short cut through the neighborhood. I didn't look at him as I passed by; I was too busy concentrating on my goal, to climb the mighty hill without resting. I put my legs into the "auto-pilot" gear that has helped me up miles of mountain hikes many times over the years. This 150 meter hill was not going to slow me down, nor was this old man who began to speak Korean to me as I walked by, "ajuma…blah,blah,blah,blah,ajumaaa…"

As I was not in the mood to speak with anyone, particularly someone who I had not even a language in common, I pretended not to hear him and kept trudging upwards. I heard quick steps coming from behind me, I had a feeling it was the old man and tried in vain to quicken my pace. As he hurried past me I was relieved that he wasn't trying to catch up to me so he could practice his English or ask me for "plivate Engrish" lessons. I thought how vaguely strange and nice it was to be in a country where the fear of random rape, assault, or kidnapping that many women feel in America is for the most part, non-existent here in Korea. Uh…duh.

I was into the final stretch- just another twenty meters and I'd be kicking off my shoes and stumbling into an 18 hour sleep-a-thon. That's when I saw my Korean penis. Well, it was his penis but since I was the only other person there, I guess we were sort of sharing it for those few, grotesque seconds. Thanks to Walgreen's and my $6 pair of indestructible, Blues Brothers black sunglasses, the old freak didn't realize that I'd seen his "presence". I ignored him and continued to walk past. Apparently this was not the reaction he wanted so he began to chase after me- I could hear those quick steps behind me again, following me up my home-stretch hill. Goddamn this persistent pervert!

Feelings of irony, disgust, vulnerability and fear sped through my feverish mind. Suddenly I realized I was alone with this man in a narrow street, 10 meters from my empty house. Without thinking, totally possessed, I whipped around, pointed my angry finger inches from his nose and began using "Dog Voice"("Dog Voice" is the half-crazed, hoarse yell that you use when you find your dog on the counter-top, eating the Thanksgiving turkey-which, by the way, works great on insolent Korean children).
     "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, YOU FUCK! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING, FREAKY, FUCK!"

I'm pretty sure even though he didn't speak English, he got the gist of what I was trying to say. At first he stopped dead in his tracks, baffled. His mouth hung open in surprise for a moment. Then he began to hurriedly walk backwards for a few steps and after recovering from a slight stumble he swiftly turned to get the hell outta there. I watched him scurry down the hill to make sure he didn't come back. I turned around, still pissed and disgusted, tears ready to roll, and held back what was probably an enormous sob. Now this REALLY pissed me off! Screw letting some old pervert make me cry!! Only my husband is allowed to make me cry!

I'M GONNA KICK ME SOME KOREAN ASS!

I went to my neighbors' house, "Are you busy right now?" After a very brief summary of the mornings' events, my neighbor agrees to accompany me to find my pervert. A gentleman? Perhaps. A guy looking forward to seeing a catfight? More likely, but either way, I didn't care and was grateful for his company.

We walked down the hill and found Penis Freak right away, trousers UP this time. He recognized me and started to boogie in the opposite direction. As I followed him, using Dog Voice, I yelled simply yet effectively, "YOU…YOU…YOU!" because I could not think of even one Korean word at that moment. He did not stop. He hastened down the now crowded little street. My stomach was in knots, I am now furious. I catch up to him and push him from behind with both hands as hard as I can. How dare he ruin my day, make me feel frightened in my own neighborhood in the middle of the day! How dare he introduce his 50 year old, Mr. Bobo to a complete stranger! To Me! ME!

"Don't Mess With Texas!" I feel like shouting only I'm not from Texas so I don't. Another good hard SHOVE and then another send him fighting to stay erect, I mean standing up straight- like I said, his pants were up so I had no idea if he was still erect. Anyway, I'm not certain exactly what I yelled, but I think it was something like, "FUCK…fucking…call the police…God-damned…FREAK…NEVER...Fuck with ME…better not FUCKING see you AGAIN!"
I have GOT to get one of those A-Word-A-Day Calendars (no, not like, the "A-Word" I mean other, non-cuss, kind of classy insult words that would be useful in these sort of situations).

Had he even the slightest grasp on the English language he would've realized that I, an apparent screaming lunatic, was making absolutely no sense whatsoever. Luckily he did not and I quickly realized that I scared the crap out of this guy so I shoved him a few more times as I drew a small, cheering crowd (the crowd was not cheering, actually, their mouths were gaping and they appeared quite speechless- it would have been really cool if they had cheered, though). Then, using my most excellent Body Language technique-mastered here in Korea,I explained to the gathered crowd,

"THAT MAN UNZIPPED HIS PANTS AND SHOWED ME HIS SEMI-ERECT WEENIE!"

Yes, I was able to tell the crowd all of this using no props or Korean words whatsoever. My ability to cross cultures and even international boundaries using my inexplicable talents of communication is well known throughout the world (Ok, I'm good at talking to "mi abuelita" who speaks very little English-but she does live in Honduras and she knows me so that's pretty international, I think). The older women were nodding under their parasols in understanding by the end of my adults-only charade version on of, "Me and the Perv", which consisted of me pointing to my crotch, making an un-zip motion, and then pointing to the old pervert running down the road.

It's possible that I mistook their nods as comprehension. Maybe they had no idea what had occurred between me, the man, and the penis. I wondered what they thought of me as I walked past them towards home, sweating, dizzy, my blood still pumping. It could've been that I was the only Westerner they'd ever seen in their entire lives. What kind of an impression had I just made here? I tried to imagine their next visit to the public bathhouse with their friends, "Oh my, those Americans are monsters, I tell you! There's one that likes to beat up elderly people in my own neighborhood!"

I looked back at the women as I started up the hill for a second time that morning. They smiled at me.

They understood.
Then I understood.

Perverts, like farmers, prostitutes, and Dick Clark have been around for a very long time. It was merely luck to have gone three decades without witnessing an uninvited unveiling of a Main Vein before now. By the looks on their faces I realized that they'd had similar experiences at some point in their long lives too. But I knew something else.
I kick ass!

And they knew that too.