Perception

I’m beginning to feel like I don’t know anything. Or anything I did know is now null and void.

Part 1

So-yae lessons are going particularly well. I’ve learned 3 strokes now. I can hold the brush without my hand cramping. The men are teaching me new Korean words everyday. Mr. Lee, my translator, had to leave early today. No problem. Most of the lesson is me working in silence anyway. As I was cleaning up, Son-Seng Song approached me. “Miss Lori?” Yes. “Here. Look.” He pulled out a scrap of paper and began to scribble on it. First in Korean, then English. Mumbling words. Finally, he wrote something approaching, “daughter-in-law” and said it at the same time. Yes? “You understand?” Yes. I smiled. I waited for him to continue. And waited. “Okay.” And he left the room. What did I just say I understood?

Part 2

As I was eating my rice and kimchi for lunch, my phone rang. In itself an unusual occurance. I answered. “Miss Lori?” Yes… “This is Mr. Pyong. Can you come to the school right now? Chairman Kim would like to see you.” Oooh. I hate that feeling. I immediately think to myself, “What have I done wrong?” There’s something about when someone says they want to see me immediately that strikes fear in me. I told him I wasn’t in my uniform. “No problem. Come right now.” So, I went.

I arrived at the school, all smiles. “Annong ha-sayo!” And was greeted in kind. Smiles. Laughter. Greetings. Chairman Kim and Mr. Pyong ushered me into an office. Sit, sit, sit. Chairman Kim looked at a newspaper on the table. He made a comment about something being beautiful (one of my vocabulary words). Mr. Pyong translated that Chairman Kim either said the woman in the photo in the newspaper was beautiful or I was beautiful, he wasn’t sure which. Have I mentioned that Mr. Pyong is a good-hearted man, but not the best translator? This is going to be interesting…

Chairman Kim began with pleasantries. How are you? How are you enjoying your time in Korea? You are the best teacher.

I inserted a quick,”Khamsa hamnidaaaa.”

You have friends, right?

Yes.

We need another teacher. Another beautiful teacher. You are a good teacher. Your friend will be good teacher. Your friend will be beautiful teacher. More beautiful than you.

(I think to myself, That’s taking the associative property to the extreme, but okay.)

Hahahahaha. Joke.

(I smiled weakly. I’m not sure what the joke was.)

Our school, not many students. Lower than winter session.

I know.

So we have special classes. Intensive classes for Wednesday. Classes for ajumaa (mothers).

Yes.

But when we have regular enrollment, no special classes.

Okay.

Our school, financial trouble. But no financial trouble. Need new teacher, new students. Chairman Kim, rich man. No trouble.

I don’t understand.

Chairman Kim, two schools. Other school, maybe financial trouble, but two schools, no financial trouble. All good, okay?

I still don’t understand.

Don’t worry. Best teacher. We like you, we like Chanta very, very much. We will take care of you.

Okay. Thank you.

Are you comfortable?

What?

Are you comfortable? Is your life okay? Anything worries you?

(Ooooooo. Are they fishing for information on Mr. Drunk Dialer? I really don’t want to start accusations.) Everything is fine.

Because if you are uncomfortable, if you have worry, you tell us. We take care of you.

Okay.

We want you to be happy.

Okay.

We want you to do things for the school.

Like what?

Best teacher. New students.

I don’t understand.

Chairman Kim said you went to his house for lunch.

Yes.

His wife, she like you very, very much.

Thank you. I enjoyed meeting her, too.

She want you to come again.

Thank you. I would like that.

When you go to their home, you take very beautiful flowers.

Yes.

You are beautiful on outside, and your actions are beautiful.

Thank you.

Hahahahahahahaha. Joke.

(Blank stare. Oh, okay. I have no idea what the joke was.)

So you will do things for our school?

What things? What are you talking about?

The mothers, they are meeting now. They have class with Mark.

Okay.

You go in, you talk to them for 20 minutes. Say hello, ask their names. Woman to woman.

Right now?

Okay, not now. Maybe another day.

Okay. When?

Maybe Wednesday, maybe Friday. Which day is good for you?

Either. Just let me know in advance.

We want you to be happy.

Okay. Thank you.

We like you very, very much.

Thank you.

Have you eaten lunch?

No, not yet.

Chairman Kim has not eaten either.

Okay.

But he will not eat with you. Hahahahahahahaha.

(Again, blank stare.) Okay.

Okay, that is all. Thank you, Miss Lori.

I have no idea what this was about. But it took a good 45 minutes.

Update

When I arrived to school this afternoon, in uniform and ready to teach, Mark approached me. “So, I hear we’ll be team teaching the mothers. They’re a good class. Not bad.” What are you talking about? “They told me that you’ll teach the moms on Friday and I’ll teach them on Wednesday. One and a half hours each day. We don’t have books yet. Mr. Drunk Dialer is working on that. We should meet with him tomorrow or the next day.” Oh, god. This is what I agreed to?

Chanta had another insight. Girls/women live with their families until they get married, often into their late 20s, early 30s. Here we are, two single women, living in a foreign country with no family. She thinks they are acting paternally, wanting to make sure we are adjusting okay (she got the same “are you comfortable talk” on Monday). Maybe.

I have no idea what I’ve agreed to today.