14 Hours and a World: The world is frighteningly fast, fascinatingly unpredicatable, and fun

I've officially had 1000 hits to this blog. And as a way to step back and appreciate my first month here, I'm going to take a post to look a little more seriously at not only why I'm here, but all the reminders I miss every day about how lucky everything is.
But JeffTeacher- you say- whats happening to everything we've come to know and love from 14hoursandaworld? What will we do without your razor-sharp wit, hilariously unbelievable anecdotes, deadpan coolguy style, chiseled abs, and amazing performance in Waiting? - And by this point I'll know you're missing Ryan Reynolds, not me (It's ok, you'll see him in the movies again soon), but I'll reassure you that JeffTeacher will resume his regularly scheduled programming next week.
For today, though, I'd like to start out with an experience that opened my eyes a little. (p.s. If you read to the end, you get pictures)

This weekend, I met a coworker of a friend of a coworker who was an english tour guide. I'd been given his number a week or two back, but hadn't taken the time to call. Well, I finally did, and we set up to meet and touch Incheon on saturday.
When we arrived at the train station, it was raining.
Wonderful, I thought. Our day of travel and exploring, and general foreign-world-experience is cut short. My new friend suggested we get lunch in Chinatown (just a stop or two down the tracks) and I agreed. The rain continued as we rode, and by the time we got there, it was pouring. We grabbed a quick lunch, and before we could get very far, the rain pushed us back, and the ground started looking familiar (which is a very odd experience for me here.) Next thing I knew, we were back in Freedom Park; only this time the open area previously claimed by the father-son baseball game was occupied by a stage that stood defiant of the rain. Canopies crouched precariously over the performers and viewers alike, interrupting the show every now and then to pour the water they were supposed to be holding back onto the unsuspecting audience.
fun.
And then a new performance started. Dramatic Chinese music blared. A man in an eye-cauterizingly theatrical costume leapt from behind the stage, his face a mystery behind a green silk mask. My guide gasped.
Bian-Lian-- he whispered to me -- Chinese face changers. Watch.
And watch I did. And I made faces usually reserved for movie characters watching fireworks.
You see, Bian-Lian performers perform a dance in a mask, and then change their mask suddenly with sleight-of-hand. And you don't see where the old mask went or where the new one came from. The performer's sleeve flicks before his eyes, only a quarter-second, and his new mask is there like he was wearing it from the beginning. The changes get faster and faster, and by the end, he's changing his mask without covering the changes and still, no one can tell how he's doing it.
When the performance finishes, and he drops the final mask to smile and bow, my guide explains to me that this is an ancient national secret of China- the trick is kept secret save for a few 3000+ year-families. Foreigners almost NEVER get to see this. In fact, only one man has ever performed it in America, I learned later.   A true Mystery of the East.
The Acquaintance.
The Properly-timed Phone Call.
The Rainstorm.
The Detour.
Face Changing.
Every step led up to it. I could've never known or planned it. Chance, coincidence, who knows? either way, I got the chance of a lifetime.

Then it hit me....where do I think I AM?  I had no intentions of going abroad. One day my mother suggested it as a "this is interesting" and I let it slide for awhile. Then I began to study Chinese. Then I visited China. But the program in China was much more difficult. Then out of the blue, at a I met someone at meet-and-greet I hadn't even planned to attend, and I learned of the opportunity in Korea. Plans changed, applications were filled out, applications fell through, new applications, new fallthroughs, applications, success!, fall-through, and finally, through some mess of determination, chance, and help, I landed in Lifetown apartments in Incheon with no real idea of what twister had blown me here or what I was going to find once I got some new shoes.
I had no Idea I'd end up going to a church (an invitation I hadn't expected) and meeting many helpful and wonderful english-speakers of all ages.
I had no Idea I'd end up learning so much about Korea, Korean, and Koreans at a Taekwondo gym. (based on an offhand opportunity to which I said "why the hell not?")
I had no Idea I'd end up having such a powerful link to home when I went phone-shopping and decided to buy the good one.
The moral of the story is that when I have no routine to fall back on, the best way I've found to keep my life an adventure is to always be looking for the new opportunities. Not to expect them, but to be ready to take them.

Traveller's Tip: Say "why the hell not?"

I'm not as eloquent as I'd like to be, so at this point I'll give the floor to an eloquent character by an eloquent writer.

"This is an orchestration for an event. For a dance, in fact. The participants will be appraised of their roles at the proper time. For now it is enough that they have arrived...none here can finally comprehend the reason for his presence, for he has no way of knowing even in what the event consists."
                                                         -Judge Holden, Blood Meridian

Well, I can no longer top the previous paragraph's writing, so I'll let my pictures have the floor.