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Upon entering the restaurant, we were seated and brought menus under the amused investigation of every pair of eyes in the restaurant. As foreigners in Japan, we were all used to this curiosity by now and paid little attention--in fact, curiosity and commotion caused at my expense was something I would miss when I returned to America. In Asia, as frustrating as it could be at times, as a Gaijin, you were something different--something special. Back home, I was just another face--big whoop.
We immediately ordered the universally understood "Beer" and began looking over the menu. However, there was a small problem with the menu. In truth, the problem was entirely ours, as none of us could read even a single word of Korean. We had mastered a few words on the flight over, but "thank you", "Please", and "Hello" would do little in the way of ordering food. When the waiter returned with four large bottles of beer, we smiled politely and pointed at our bellies, the international sign for "hungry". After discovering the futility of speaking to us in Korean, he politely smiled back to us and ventured into the kitchen, returning with several small bowls of kim-chee, tofu, and seaweed.
After finishing the beer and ordering more, we were enjoying ourselves immensely. The little bowls of appetizers were very tasty and we began to laugh about the day's frustrations. More small bowls were brought with increasingly spicy contents along with more beer. About the time we were finishing up the appetizers, the cook walked out of the kitchen with a large net and proceeded to scoop up a flounder from one of the tanks at the front of the restaurant. We all watched with anticipation, hoping the soon-to-be fried fish was destined for our table. As it turns out, we were both right and wrong.
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