Crossing 16 time zones and the international date line is like a demonstration of relativity. Time expands and contracts in odd, counter-intuitive ways when flights begin around midnight, last 18 hours, and end as the sun is rising behind clouds over the airport. I had been dreading the long layover in Incheon as we waited for the short hop to Kansai, but we were delighted at the unexpected opportunity to learn about traditional Korean crafts at a display put on by some governmental office that supports such things. 
Two young women dressed in Korean ceremonial garb showed us books on the local culture and gave me and Ruth a short demonstration on painting fans. When we had both finished copying the sample, one of them wrote our names in the Korean equivalent of kanji. Meanwhile, Glen sewed a small silk bag, stuffed it with cotton to form a pin cushion. Then one of the young women tied it elegantly with a silk cord. Instead of a nightmare layover, our time in Incheon was fun and educational
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