It’s almost been one year in Korea, and throughout that year there has been one recurring theme… I am the fat American.

I hate being the fat American.  I stand out in a crowd  It’s impossible to find clothes (although I did save a lot of money).  And my students lovingly (and sometimes not so lovingly) call me Fat Teacher.

But in my year in Korea, I’ve lost 59 lbs.  I am proud of myself.  Not so much for losing the weight (although I am proud of that), but of the way I did it.  For the first time in life I lost weight without severely restricting foods, without taking pills, and without books or videos telling me what to do every minute of every day.

I am not saying I didn’t try (I am at the gym quite often); but I didn’t give up carbs, cookies, incredibly fatty pork, alcohol, or anything else that makes me really happy.  I just ate better.

Of course, I’m still considered fat in Korea.  It’s still hard to buy clothes (I have to buy them online in the Plus Sizes and Seniors section), and when I do buy clothes it’s slightly depressing to find out the XXL’s barely (and I mean barely) fit.

So… I’m really, really excited to return to America where I can bask in the fatness that will surround me everywhere.

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When I walked in to eat lunch today, I saw a “pretty” girl across the restaurant, but I didn’t pay much attention.  There are a lot of “pretty” people in Korea (in my opinion) and I never talk to any of them.

But as I was eating I noticed her talking to the owners of the restaurant… and then my chopsticks stopped midway between the rice and my mouth as I saw them all staring at me.

One of the owners comes over to my table, opens the menu, and points to another dish and then points to me — clearly wanting me to eat it.  I say “No, no, no” because I did not want (or need) any more food.  Owner walks away and Pretty Girl leaves.

Then, Girl #2 comes over to my table to tell me what just went down.  Evidently, Pretty Girl bought me take out.  For the record, we never spoke.  She did not ask if I wanted take out, and I did not send body language signals telling her that I was unable to feed myself.  Nevertheless, I left lunch with an extra pork cutlet.

To make things even better, Girl #2 comes over again and tells me that if I ever need anything, I should just give her a call.  Then she slid me her number.

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My kitchen isn’t fully stocked yet, but I was still able to cook my first Korean meal.  It’s a Korean fusion dish combining the classic beef bulgogi with Pringles and Diet Coke.

Yum!

I hope you’re laughing with me and not at me.

Korean fusion cooking

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