Edinburgh Fringe Festival Post #4

Today, my Korean friend Jungi (pronounced, “Choon ghee”, by the way) told me, “Steve, you are a...now Korean!” I had just tasted the spiciest soup that I have ever tasted and in response I said, “...” “...” “...” “Cough!”. But what I meant was, “That means a lot.” They had found the most authentic Korean restaurant this side of France, and it only served takeout. The owner, however, being as nice as I’ve found all Koreans to be, had set up a special table for us inside of the small bathroom-sized establishment. There, he prepared a special meal for us on a hot plate in the middle of the fold-up table. We cut pork into small bite-sized pieces and seared them on the hot plate. Then, we dipped the pork into a sesame sauce and placed it into a large leaf of lettuce taken directly from one of the two heads on the table. We then put various condiments - bean sprouts, pickled radish, and bean paste - on top of the pork and folded the lettuce over all of it like a sandwich. Rinse, repeat, amazing. Why don’t Americans do this? I also learned that if you plan to “clink” your glasses together with a Korean friend, you first need to determine your friend’s age, as it is disrespectful to allow your glass to “clink” above theirs if they are older than you are. I’m learning all sorts of manners and words!


But when I left you, I was talking about hand signals and the fact that they totally worked...for the most part. I hold up my hand and put up either one, two, or three fingers. One finger means projections, two fingers means sound, and three fingers means both together. Then when I extend my arm, they push their respective buttons. Of course, I’ve never called a show this way, so it was a bit of a learning process for myself as well as my crew, and professor Jakyung Seo was instrumental in her role as translator while I explained and rehearsed the system. But we quickly realized that we needed a system in case there was a problem. What happens if they miss a cue? What happens if the actor jumps a line? And out of necessity, the emergency post-it system was born. If an operator believes there is a problem, they raise their hand. I then write on a post-it the number of the cue that I wish to be taken next and hand it to them. Then, the next time that I put my hand down, they execute that cue. Whew! And if I believe there is a problem, I just hand them a post-it with the number of the cue that I want to go next. Thank heavens both of my operators can quickly read numbers in English! The Korean language does not write the same numerals as we do. They have their own entirely unique numerical characters. They are “dok dok ke”, very smart.

The whole process would have been much easier, however, if I didn’t have to cope with having to locate my lost baggage containing all of my tools and supplies while simultaneously trying run and prepare for the tech and dress rehearsals! But that is a story for another time. Until next time, goodbye! Annyounghasseyo!