Pockets of happiness lie in waiting in the city blocks.

I’d just gone swimming in the basement of a downtown office complex. After, sitting on a bench, eating some kim-bap, a busload of old Korean ladies unloaded. Next thing I knew the driver was calling me into the bus. He asked me a bunch of questions in Korean that I could barely answer, and offered me plates of rice cakes and a bottle of beer. Then, he blasted some Korean old man’s music, which is kind of a mix of country & western and lounge with that bombastic energy of Bollywood music. He played it at such an inceredible volume — with the door and windows open, it must have filled the whole street. Then, he turned on the ignition, and hooked up the karaoke system. This guy was so cool that he put on a pair of sunglasses when he sang. On the monitor, images of Southern islands passed by, and what with the fake flower decor on the bus, I suddenly felt myself in tropical vacation mode. I stepped up to the mic. And belted out “Can’t Help Falling In Love,” “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,” and Kris Kristofferson’s “For The Good Times.” An awesome way to spend the afternoon. One of many awesome ways to spend an afternoon, I might say.

So many people want to practice their English on me, in Asia — but except for the rare moments, it seems like everyone’s missing the point of learning a language. The point of a new language is that when you meet someone at the blue, you’ve got the tools to communicate heart-to-heart — and in fact only the most broken language is needed.