Tales From Abroad: Korea and Kebabs

The man fixing my kebab has a slight smile on his face. He turns to his friend, saying something in rushed Farsi. He looks back at me, slapping a bit of sauce over the meat.

“So, tell me,” he says, “how can I get a black girlfriend?”

He says it so matter-of-fact. It doesn’t really even sound that much like a question. Is this his way of asking me out? I look past his face over to his friend, who gives me a small shrug.

I don’t hesitate, as much stop a moment to contemplate my current situation. I’m not really too shocked. More annoyed. He’s trying to be nice, I can tell, but it hasn’t worked well. Is it a compliment? Or am I just an easy target? A black girl in Seoul? I must be desperate or something, right?

He’s waiting for an answer now.

“Well,” I say, “you can go to Africa.”

He looks a bit shocked, now. I hadn’t meant for it to sound so snide, but as the words come out, I realize I’ve offended him.

“Yeah,” he says, sheepishly,”that sounds like a good suggestion.”

He hands me the kebab and I turn to look for my new friends. Had they seen this exchange? Am I now a pariah? I mean, I did just tell a man to “go to Africa”, that’s gotta count against me in some way, right?

The lone male of the group is outside, having already eaten his kebab. He leans against the wall, people-watching and probably thinking more about his next beer than my personal woes. Next to him is a tiny girl, bobbed-hair and killer shoes. She is standing in the street, kebab in one hand, bottle of beer in the other. She’s got on a frilly little skirt, and each time the wind blows, it flutters about her.

The last girl is leaning against the wall behind me, nonchalant. Typical East Coast style, long hair parted to the side, over her shoulder. She reminds me of the girls from my own neighborhood. Relaxed and reflective.

No one’s really noticed how standoffish I’ve been…and no one really cares. They’re a live and let live type of group. Chill.

I smile to myself. Chill. I think I’m going to like this.