I Loathe the Smell of Kimchi in the Morning...

While not being able to speak Korean is definitely a drawback while living here, it does provide a near limitless number of strange situations to try and muddle through. Communicating with my co-teachers is quickly becoming the biggest challenge, and while there are one or two strong English speakers, they're lower in the social heirarchy, and so many times I'm forced to discuss events with people who command a very limited vocabulary.

"Ah, Mr. Park. Dinner - where do we go?" I say very slowly.
"5 o'cloak." He replies.
"Time, yes, 5 o'clock. Where? Ga odie oseyo?"
"Yes, 5 o'cloak."
"Okay. Who is going?"
"Yes, feeshie. Fresh feeshie, no pire."

and the Konglish battle continues. So you know, we were having raw fish, or "fish, no fire".

Lying to each other has becoming a popular pastime here in Korea, one which I'm pretty sure no amount of miscommunication can account for. Many Koreans have told me my pronnunciation of Korean is very good. Okay, maybe, but they also tell me I'm a great singer and an excellent volleyball player. In return, I tell them I like kimchi for breakfast (pickled cabbage with red pepper sauce), and everybody's happy.

I had my first night out with my teachers this past week. While I knew it was going to be quite an experience, I was amazed at how comfortable they all became with me after a few drinks of soju (that Korean vodka like drink). It seems intoxication can transcend all language barriers, and as the night moved on, I seemed to be sharing deep philosphical conversations with Koreans using only gestures and mono-syllabic grunts.

We also went Norebonging (or more properly, to the Norebong. I don't know if I can put Norebong into a verb or not yet). It's like Japanese karaoke, but you have your own private room and the mic is set to a strange reverb setting which makes anyone who can't sing worth a darn sound like a drowning cat. This was where I was told my singing skills were pretty good, but I think that was just them trying to be polite - I was definitely playing the part of a drowning cat.
This weekend will be Shannon and my first chance to speak regular, non-broken English other than with each other for nearly a week. Our tiny contigent of foreigners has put together a boat trip in a city called Yeosu. It's going to be quite a challenge for any locals we run into - most of them only see a foreign face a few times a year, so coming across 60 or more of us yelling and mulling about may be too much to handle. I'm not kidding when I say they may ask one or two of us for an autograph.