As winter invades the evening sky swirling with soft white flakes, the first of the season, my tongue is the only one unabashedly protruding out of my mouth in childlike awe of a nostalgic phenomenon I used to take for granted. 
With Hangul heartbeats pumping fiercely through surges of adrenaline that recognize good company, my entourage and I board the underground rip-around. We, the foreign circus, perform tricks of stealth and strength in the labyrinth of Seoul’s subway system. A quaint display of Western gregariousness, our near blistered hands hold on for the last chance pull-up party, makgeolli debauchery. Our Korean audience members steal corner of the eye glances. 
Some sit on the heated metal seats, hands folded in obedience. Some smile and cheer on our ego busting one-handed lock-off showdown.
In the largest indoor Ice climbing wall in the world according to Mr. Guinness himself, I swing for my life. Pumped out and barely able to hold on to the leash-less ice axes that assist me up sheer frozen vertical ice slicks, I pray I won’t drop them on the kind belayers below! This giant-sized freezer reminds me of home. After spending almost 3 years in Mexico, I have forgotten the all- encompassing feeling of the snowsuit necessary, nose numbing cold as the moisture from my breath freezes and thaws on my jacket after each inhale and exhale. 
I have been an Ice climber in a past life, but am only now just realizing it in this one. A taste of an often feared extreme winter sport has left me thirsty for more in near dehydration. Sorry mom.
Deserving a little downtime, Lila, Daphne and I share stories and coffee (and a bottle of wine for breakfast) on Sunday morning to appreciate that we can. They listen and give their blunt and honest perspective. They have travelled to the ends of the earth with me and make me almost pee my pants with laughter (or have made me...). I am so lucky to have these girls in my life!
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