Ajumma Yoga

I've been doing yoga off and on for a few years by myself, but I've never taken a proper class. A couple of my friends invited me to join them at a yoga class nearby. I was really looking forward to actually being part of a class and having a more consistent yoga schedule.
We had to walk about a half-hour to the class from base and when we got there ajummas were in our midst. I have a love/hate relationship with ajummas.
Technically "ajumma" means married woman, so that could encompass women anywhere between the ages of 18 to 120, but when I refer to an ajumma I speak of the crotchety, haggard old women that give me the stink-eye when I wear a tanktop to the gym, ask if I'm Russian or elbow me out of the way to get in front of the bus ticket window (even though I'm CLEARLY first in line).
Some ajummas can be quite pleasant though. They flash me a toothless grin when I bow and say, "Annyonghaseyo" on the street, give me a gul (tangerine) if they have an extra or pat my leg on a long bus ride and ask if I'm cold. At least I think that's what she said...
I wasn't sure how us meegooks would be received at the yoga class. But it was just good fun!
There were about 14 ajummas and 2 ajoshies (old men, but technically means "uncle") and all of them were dressed in whatever they wore that day. The ajoshies were wearing suits. Considering that Koreans wear special gym outfits and special hiking outfits I thought for sure there would be a special yoga outfit. Perhaps "day-wear" is the "yoga-wear" in Korea.
The class started simple enough. The instructor was obviously speaking in Korean so I made sure to watch the ajumaa next to me to figure out the cues for what I needed to do. I could hear giggles in the back row when poses were difficult and my friends and I snickered at each other when we weren't quite as flexible as we needed to be to get the poses correctly. At least everyone appeared to have a good sense of humor.
Soon enough it was dance time! I had no idea yoga classes consisted of dance time! The instructor cranked the K-Pop and led us on a finely choreographed routine that got the ajummas and ajoshies rockin' their hips. I could not stifle the laughter when I watched the two ajoshies in front of me attempting to swivel their hips despite their severe lack of rhythm, but the serious looks of determination and concentration on their faces made me question what they really thought their bodies were doing.
Then we got to some sort of expressive, interpretive dancing mode and I think the ajoshies thought they were trees swaying in the wind. It was kind of nice to see the usually uptight ajoshi just flowing with the music and "taaayin' in the winnn." But I still couldn't help but giggle.