Hallelujah-- It's raining men. Rather it's raining men-size chunks of water, hail and debris. The typhoon is upon us, and I for one feel lucky to have survived this night with little more than soaked clothes, bag and and partially drenched notebook. I know I'm prone to hyperbole, but tonight's weather was absurdly intense. Getting home from downtown was like the freaking Poseidon Adventure. I'm not slight of frame by any means, but I was nearly blown into ditches, walls and poles on several occasions. My umbrella reversed itself not once but twice before it was rendered useless by Jah's mighty wrath, and I actually found myself considering how it would feel to be struck by lightening in Korea (would it be spicier? More efficient? Shorter than an American bolt?) and then have my lifeless corpse float down the rivers that had once been streets but are now rivers because of a lack of proper irrigation and sewage systems. I ushered an old lady across a crowded intersection, and though she was screaming when the thunder clapped she found time to thank me in English once we had reached the other side of the street. Now I've never been in this sort of inclement weather before and certainly it was an awesome display of God's displeasure with North Korea, but there were so many women screaming tonight, it was as if a bunch of foreign men had marched into the collective girl's locker room of Korea. Come on ladies, has Alien 2 taught you nothing? In space, which is much like a typhoon I imagine, no one can hear you scream. Or whimper, for that matter. Although I heard them, so none of that makes sense. Anyway it was scary, you get the picture.