If there is one thing I can't live long without, it is a guitar. I am no professional musician. I am not a fantastic guitar player, but there is something about picking up an instrument and making something that closely resembles tolerable noise. When I made the long trek overseas all of my guitars were reluctantly packed up and left behind. But I knew full well that it wouldn't be long before that craving once again arose and I needed the feel of shaped wood and taught steel beneath callused fingers. My first trip into Seoul found us in a tiny music shop, packed with instruments. My long awkward legs risked kicking over thousands of dollars with the slightest of movements. With a frugal budget and no real intention of buying, I still managed to find a nice little guitar. Not cheap on my simple teacher's salary, but a much needed bit of comfort in a new place. And though I have found little time to play it, there is something wonderful just having it in my home. It gets pulled out as much as I am able to strum away, work at a little ditty or two, and to help my new Korean friend take his first plunge into learning the guitar.