Queen Kim Yuna gets the gold

I first heard Kim Yu-Na's name during my first week in Korea. My English camp students were required to report about a famous Korean person, and one of my students picked Kim Yu-Na. I actually remember asking, "Who is Kim Yu-Na?"

Yesterday, as I watched an online clip of Kim Yu-Na performing her free style program, I honestly thought to myself, "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I remember being struck with a similar feeling when I watched a group of older dancers perform a lyrical routine for the finale at one of my dance recitals years ago. At the time, I couldn't imagine anything in all creation being more graceful and stunning than dance.

Kim Yuna was the word on the street all day long yesterday. Kim Yuna and her gold medal and new world record score of 228.56 for women's figure skating at the Olympics...though "Kim" and "Yuna" were the only two words I could understand on the street. I'm not kidding. I heard her name at least ten times on the bus last night as I rode downtown for Bible study. I did a Kim Yuna impression in the break room much to the amusement of my coworker, SuJung. We talked about Kim Yuna in my classes and had engaging discussions about the difficulty of figure skating versus speed skating.

One of my American friends, who has been in Korea for years, kind of chuckles at how proud Koreans are of her because, she says, Kim Yuna trained in Canada. Then again, I heard about an American woman in the ice dancing competition, who was representing Georgia, despite having never been to the country and barely completing citizenship requirements with enough time to compete. The lines of nationalism at the Olympics are being blurred everyday as our world gets smaller. If you ask me, Koreans have plenty to be proud of. She is Korean. And she's a wonderful artist and athlete.

In the Korea Times:

"With the gold medal, Kim became the first female skater ever to achieve the sport's grand slam - winning the titles from the World Grand Prix Final, Four Continents Championships, World Championships and Winter Olympics ."

What always shocks me about the Olympics is how young the athletes often are! Kim Yuna is 19 years old.

I have to confess I don't even know for sure how the US is doing. I can't get a feed from NBC in Korea, so I have to download each event individually, which I know isn't super good for my hard drive. And I haven't taken much time to read the headlines until right now. O ok...8 golds, 13 silvers and 13 bronze.

I do know that one of my students used the words "Apolo Ohno" and "loser" in the same sentence the other day. Christi said Koreans detest Ohno because he supposedly caused a Korean skater to get disqualified during the Salt Lake City Olympics and unrightfully brought home the gold medal. (Interesting tidbit, I suppose.) According to FOX, he's the most rivaled athlete in South Korea. Having witnessed Korean national pride first hand, this doesn't surprise me. Plus, Ohno is half-Japanese. It only takes about ten minutes worth of Japan-related conversation with a Korean over the age of 20 to figure out how they feel about Japan.

Anyway, to be honest, I don't even know the names of our major athletes this year. I know of Apolo Ohno as well as Meryl Davis and Charlie White in the ice dancing championships. I know of Kim Yuna, Lee Jung Soo and Mo Tae Bum. And when I saw Kim Yuna choke up after a perfect performance on Friday, I felt really happy for her!

O Korea, you're funny!

Playing

Hyunsuk babysat MinHi, a little girl from the church, yesterday morning. MinHi is as friendly and charming as Korean girls come.

I sat down for breakfast with a slice of peanut butter toast and milk, and MinHi joined me with her half-eaten bowl of mixed rice in a Pororo bowl. "Mashisoyo!" she said as she watched me eat out of the corner of her eyes. I pointed to various objects on her pajamas and asked her what they were and if she liked those objects. (Learned the word for star.) As I was eating, she was fiddling with a pink, plastic air pump. Seemed to be impressed with the sound it made or with

her own strength working against the pressure.

After I tested my limited Korean, she assumed I spoke the language and proceeded to play with me in Korean. The stuffed cheetah Nick gave me as a going-away gift and hug-substitute made a handy toy. Guided by my invisible hands, the cheetah tickled MinHi and then hid under the table. Later, as I started getting ready, MinHi used the pink air pump to inject medicine into the various "apo's" (pains) of the "horangi," which I later discovered meant "tiger." MinHi used the air pump to feed the "tiger" "ooyoo" (milk.) Then, as I discovered through repetition, she put the "tiger" under my bed, so it could go to the "hwajangsil" or bathroom. (It took me some time to realize what MinHi meant with the pissing sound, but when I realized, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.)

Children are the best language instructors. Maybe because they don't quite comprehend that you don't speak their language. I enjoyed playing in Korean, and MinHi's charm made me hungry to learn. I'm going to miss the Korean language.

Singing

Raeann and Jong came to Daegu to visit me last weekend. I took them to do Doctor Fish--an experience which made Raeann squeal and squeeze my hand really hard for about ten minutes. Then we shopped, met up with Eli, Elise and Vanessa for samgyubsal, (which is like Korean grilled bacon with lots of side dishes,) and went to NoRaeBang (singing room.) In an effort to persuade Elise's company, I made a bet with the girls that we wouldn't be in the NoRaeBang for more than an hour. I remember the first time I went to a NoRaeBang, and I really got pretty bored after about 40 minutes of singing. But much to my surprise, we did sing past an hour, and I was perfectly content to keep going. I think it takes some time to get used to the shamelessness of singing in Korea.

Eating

I met my friend Christi for coffee yesterday. We talked for two hours, and before we knew it, I was going to be late for work and hadn't eaten lunch. So we walked across the street to a KFC to grab something to go. Glossing over the menu, Christi said she was going to have the "smart" one. I located the smart one, wondering why it was called smart, and it was then that I realized it was the only set under 1,000 calories. Korean fast food places always post the calorie content on the menu, so customers know exactly what they're putting into their body. Suddenly awakened to the health factor, I ordered the twister, which was a little over 300 calories, without the set and ate an orange, given to me by a friendly Korean man, on the side.

At about 4:30 p.m., I headed to Hayang to teach and stopped by another KFC to answer a fresh rumbly in my tumbly. On the snack menu in Korea, there is a one piece chicken snack: 1,000 won (about $1), 90 calories. I ordered that as well as a side of corn salad. (No mashed potatoes at Korean KFC.) The lady in a white paper hat told me the single strip would take ten minutes to fry. (Evidently, they don't keep a bunch sitting around in the back.) I sat down to read my Bible and wait for my strip. Eventually, they called out my order, and I went to pick up my strip and a packet of honey mustard arranged in a white basket big enough for a full set. The lonely chicken piece struck me as comedic in the basket, so I had to take a picture.

I love how health conscious Koreans are, but ...O Korea, you're funny!

One of my professors used to say how silly it is when people go to a new place, admire it's wonder, and say, "Maybe I should come back here someday!" Humans have a tendency to switch in reflective mode prematurely, which takes away from the joy of the moment. Maybe it's the devil's way of stealing contentment. I think I've fallen into this trap. I'm trying to resist a countdown, but I have one going anyway. I have one month left in Korea. 34 days until I come home.

So many exciting moments to come: WooBang Towerland with JiMin on Monday, a bachelorette party for MingKy and I on the 20th, and then my trip to Japan. Stay tuned!

Skiing, New Year's and V-Day

If I were to rank my top ten days in Korea, I think last Saturday would be in my top five. I remembered something about myself this weekend--something that is so Calcara in me and something that I'd forgotten for the last five years or so--I love skiing.

Skiing: "Hera!"

Eli, Tharine, Elise, Vanessa, Renee and I woke up at 4:00 a.m. to catch a 4:50 a.m. bus to HighOne Resort, which in East Korea. The trip was 3 and a half hours long each way, but the bus was fully equipped for sleeping passengers--purple curtains on the windows, big chairs that recline easily, dim lighting, nice heating. We slept most of the way there, and to my surprise, most of the way back, too.

For the most part, skiing in Korea is the same as skiing state-side with the exception of a few distinctions. Number One: Green circles, blue squares, and black diamonds are used to denote beginner, intermediate and advanced slopes in the U.S. Green, orange and red are used in Korea. Number Two: Burgers and chili dogs are replaced by ramyon, kimbob, dumplings and

spicy soups for lunchtime possibilities. Number Three: My red Columbia coat, which stuck out like a sore thumb among the peacoat fashions in the city, looked rather drab against the bright-colored and sometimes animal-shaped fashions of Korean skiwear. I saw a man in a cat suit with cat ear-hood and a white belly and a woman in a neon-yellow, plaid ski suit. Also, animal hats that tie under the neck are really, really popular here for kids. I'm thinking I might bring one back for my dad, who likes to wear winter hats that embarrass us all. Just kidding! (I love

you, Dad. Thanks for the Valentine's card.)

We sailed the slopes from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. with a lunch break of course. Half of us skied, and half of us snowboarded, and some of us started on snowboards and switched to skis when the going got rough. As group trips often go, we started out all together on the bunny slopes but broke up into groups due to different ski and boarding skill levels. Renee and I split for an expert hill pretty early on when she somehow convinced me it was a good idea. I wiped out twice on the way down. After my first wipe out, I decided to ignore my anxious reticence because it seemed to lead me to fall. Instead, I embraced the speed, which...consequently, led to another wipe out and a lecture from a Korean man about going too fast and braking properly.

Embarrassing. I've been skiing plenty long enough to know what wedge is. I guess I probably deserved the lecture though. Renee said I was really flying.

After lunch, Renee, Vanessa and I decided to hit up the intermediate slopes. All of the slopes at High One were named after Greek gods. The beginner slopes were called Zeus, the advanced were Apollo, and the intermediate slopes were Hera. Hera was the wife and older sister of Zeus and the goddess of women and marriage. Anyway, on Saturday, the word reminded me of the Korean word "hera" which means "Do it!" I sometimes say this to my students to get them going, "Bali hera!" or "Hurry! Do it!" I kept thinking about this meaning of hera as I started each run, only this time "bali" was far my self-instruction. Having readopted my hesitation, I told myself, "There's only one way down this mountain. (Not entirely true, as there were a few

other slopes that began at the same point, but this is psychology, you understand

.) There's only one way, so hera! Do it!" The "Hera" slopes were my favorite ones...not quite so out of control, but challenging enough.

The snow on Saturday was not all packed and not all powdery but a combination of the two types. Breaking too hard on powdery snow results in a wipe out. Breaking too gently on packed, icy snow results in either a wipe out or an uncontrollable and unwanted acceleration. The difficulty lies in distinguishing the two types with visual judgment.

As I said before, I love skiing. I love the intense personal focus required by a challenging slope. Weaving down the mountain on two parallel strips, I am silent, rhythmic, concentrating, discerning, exhilarated and delighted by the cool air and the fast dance. Skiing is both a group activity and an individual activity. (This suits me as well.) One cannot let others ski for oneself. One must get oneself down the hill. Yet external encouragement and assisting others is

imperative. One ought not ski solo.

In addition to my love for skiing, another beautiful thing about this Saturday was the host of admiring thoughts that surfed through my brain about the incredible character traits of my friends. My friends are super cool. Tharine, from South Africa, was courageous enough to try snowboarding even though she only just saw snow for the first time this winter. Eli, from Maryland, loyally stuck by her all afternoon even as they switched from snowboards to skis midway through. Elise, from Florida, snowboarded through umpteen falls with determination and improved greatly by the end. Vanessa, from Oklahoma and only a second-time skier, graduated herself from beginner slopes and gracefully tackled intermediate ones with impressive athleticism. Renee, from Los Angelos,...well...Renee is a great story. This thirtyish, half-Chinese, half-Korean left her high-paying job with Fidelity in LA to come find herself in Korea. Without a job or a schedule, she spends her days training to run a half-marathon, praying for others, and lifting us all with her spirit. Her presence is an example of living from one's heart.

With this inspiring comrade, I danced the Korean slopes all day long, make-up-less and free-spirited. We got back by 8 p.m., ordered a pizza and watched a British comedy together.

Vanessa and I washed our friends dishes as a token of our appreciation to Eli, Elise and Tharine, who serve us with unceasing hospitality.

Lunar New Year

I came home after church on Sunday to discover, much to my exhausted dismay, the church was locked up, and my host family had gone to visit relatives. It's the Lunar new year in Korea. For most families, the Lunar New Year is a day which they recognize and honor their ancestors by cooking Korean food for their spirits. Eli showed me a video of her family's ceremony on Sunday morning. They set out all of this food and move the chopsticks around the table to allow the ghosts to eat from each dish. The men dress in hanbok or wear a nice suit and bow to the ghost guests. Also, children bow to their grandparents and receive pocket money for the next month or so. But Korean Christians don't usually observe the lunar new year in the same way. Instead, they just visit family, eat and travel.

I met up with my host family for their traditional dinner in KyungSan. The mood was similar to Thanksgiving in America. Casual. Watching TV. Eating. Enjoying the company of relatives. Not a big deal. The only distinguishing features were the food, the respectful bowing to one another and a little yorkshire terrier, which they dressed in Hanbok. To my relief, Moxanim drove me home before they visited more relatives. I was pooped.

Dreaming of my Valentine

Last night, I had a dream that I was riding on a bus with a friend to an unknown destination. I got off at her stop. She took me to her home and showed me around.

"Isn't it nice to have a home?" I said to my friend. "Isn't it nice to have a place to come and just rest?"

At that moment, my phone rang. It was Nick!

"Hey Babe," He said casually. "So where are you? I was just thinking you should stop by and try some of that chicken I told you about...and maybe I could get started on that story, too."

Typical Nick and Sally activities--food and stories. Warmth filled my body at the thought of breathing in the same air as the love of my life. Was it possible? Then my heart sank, and my dream self realized aloud, "But I don't know where I am, and I don't have a car..."

I woke up. It was 3:30 a.m., and my throat parched. I went to the kitchen for a glass of water, then lay back down. I tossed and turned for about 20 more minutes just thinking about how unnatural it is to be so far away from someone I love so much and for so long.

My life feels so dichotomized right now. When I'm busy doing something on the weekend, then I feel so happy to be in Korea with people I love to be around, doing things I love to do. When I have down time, which is quite a bit during the week, then I miss the person I love the most, and I can't wait to be with him again.

Teaching preschool, more food experiments

Here are some highlights and lowlights of my week:

• We now official have a pre-school class, and we even have a 2 foot tall table with little chairs to prove it. My first class was kind of disaster. A five-year-old girl MiYoung started to cry while we were practicing our numbers. Sung-Ah was happy, but loud and hyperactive as usual. Joon-Woo, also 5, didn't think head-and-shoulders-knees-and-toes was a good idea at all and sort of just stared at me while I tried to teach it...the others followed his lead.
• On the bright side, Sung-Ah now loves me and publicly announced it in English! The reasons for her change of heart are unknown.
• Failed vocabulary review questions made me aware that I had mistakenly explained to two students that the word "runny" in English meant the same thing as "runny nose." Taking two steps back, I used Sunny 10 soda, honey, ketchup, juice and salad dressing to demonstrate the meaning of runny with greater clarity.
• Tested the enchiladas out on a small panel of Korean judges to see what they would think. (Mexican food is not popular in Korea, so many of them looked at the dish with curiosity.) Mrs. Joe scrunched her face up and shook her head. Clearly not a fan. SuJung said she only likes Korean food. But SuJung and Patrick thought they were delicious! As well as one of my middle school students who tried some. Hyunsuk said they were ok. Moxanim didn't give me a comment.
• In the mood to cook, SuJung, my fellow foodie, and I spent our "tutoring" time making tortilla pizzas together in the small kitchen at work. We sauteed red, green, and yellow bell peppers, mushrooms and onions in a little olive oil, then added in the organic spaghetti sauce we purchased at Costco. Next, we put the tortilla in a peculiar-looking stovetop pan (not sure about the name of it,) added the vegetable mixture, and topped it with pizza cheese. We sandwiched it with another tortilla, hoping to create a quesadilla feel, but when we flipped the pie, it sort of fell apart. It was delicious anyway! And a really good time!
• Having expired my health club membership, I walked up and down the block in the rain yesterday to relieve my feeling of sedentariness. It's too bad that the timing of it's expiration so happened to be the same week I started consuming sour cream and cheese at an American rate.
• I'm looking into teaching English online and got my first lesson request. I hope I'm doing this the right way.
• Thanks to the assistance of my mother and friends, we finalized decisions on a DJ for the reception and on invitation designs. Nick proposed to me exactly one year ago today. Four months to go!
• It's snowing today, and I'm going skiing with my friends tomorrow!

Costco, God-talk, and enchiladas

When Patrick invited me along to Costco, I think I outwardly cringed at the idea. I remembered the last time I went to Costco with my host mom and three other Korean women from the church. My whole Saturday night disappeared because Costco is pretty far away and takes a long time to shop through four floors of everything, especially when they are four different interest groups to consider. The night had seemed even longer because none of the women spoke English, thus none of them really spoke to me, but talked amongst themselves in Korean. I didn't know where we were going, how long we would be gone, or when we would be going home. I think we left at about 6 p.m. and returned by 10:30, but it seemed much more frustratingly long at the time. It was after that trip that I established a new personal rule: Don't get in a car with your host family on a Saturday night unless you know exactly where you're going and how long the trip will last. Anyway, most of the sandwich ingredients wound up being subpar anyway, so I lost interest with wholesale shopping altogether. I decided it was better to eat delicious Korean food than average American experiments.

I didn't want to spend my night at Costco, however, when I finished work on Saturday, I decided to go along for the Costco trip anyway. The end of the academic year in Korea is soon approaching, so Mrs. Joe wanted to buy gifts for the students who would graduate elementary school and corn dogs as treats for all the students. She needed Patrick for his Costco card, and SuJung just went along for the ride, too. The four of us shopped around for school supplies and settled on a jumbo-case of colored pens and notebooks with various designs--materials which we would package into wholesome, studious gifts for the kids. We also browsed some English reading materials for three-year-old Sung-Ah's class, which now has...can you believe it?...four students. The other three are about five, though. It was kind of weird at first to be hanging out with work people on the weekend, but I kind of liked it, too.

My impulsive decision to attend the work trip to Costco came from a desire to somehow make use of all the cream of mushroom soup Hyunsuk bought for me a month ago. Nicole shot me a Facebook message a while back with a simple recipe for chicken enchiladas, including the mushroom soup, cream of chicken soup, tortillas, shredded chicken, sour cream and cheese. Having expired my gym membership and needing a new hobby, I thought I would cease the opportunity to shop for groceries and give them a try. I was delighted to find all of the ingredients I needed at Costco, except the cream of chicken soup. A 5 lb. bag of shredded Land O' Lakes mild cheddar cheese excited me so much in the frozen food aisle that I didn't notice it cost 25,000 won until I checked out. (A little less than $25. Yikes!)

After Costco, we went out for Indian food as a successful team of shoppers. We walked in to find the place had clearly become a foreigner hangout. English conversation came from a large group of various ethnic representatives at the table in front of us as well as a small group of people behind us who were clearly from the UK. We ordered curry and nan (I love nan!) and chatted about what would become of the hogwan when my replacement arrived.

As the big group got up to leave, Patrick's ex-girlfriend from Canada turned around and greeted him. It might have been a bit of an awkward encounter for them, but I was so pleased to meet the woman from whom Patrick gained a window into Western culture. He always talks about her as well as his days as a student in Canada. She was really cute! But when she left, he seemed relieved.

We ordered a yogurt-like, dessert-drink called lassi to cool our pallets from the spicy curry. Then out of the blue, Mrs. Joe asked me if I go to church anymore. Next, she launched into something lengthy directed at Patrick. I don' t know if it's because my Korean has actually improved or it was just my Spirit or perhaps context clues, but somehow I knew she was having a God-talk with him. And he, like a respectful Korean man, listened and nodded politely. I dismissed myself to go to the bathroom and when I returned, she was still talking... and he listening.

Later, Patrick told me that she said something like this: "I'm not going to tell you that you have to go to church, but I am going to say that sometime you should consider whether or not someone created this world."

Her gentle nudge was a perfect set-up for our first real conversation about Jesus. I told him that I wouldn't be in Korea if I didn't believe in God, who had shown me just how beautiful the world was and given me a desire to see it. I also said that even though many people think of Christianity as a Western phenomenon, some of Jesus teachings were much more Korean-like in nature. Jesus' emphasis in the interests of others over one's self, for example, is much more exemplified through Korean culture than American culture. Though I may be partial to the American way, the servant attitude that Koreans have about hospitality is very Christ-like. These ideas impressed him, Patrick told me, and surprised him.

We talked for quite a while. At one point, I said, "You know. It probably took Mrs. Joe a lot of courage to say what she said. Christians are fully aware that talking about Jesus is an awkward thing in modern culture." He responded by understanding that it was a duty to tell others and suggesting half-jokingly, "Why don't you talk to me about it more often?"

Meanwhile, my friends were out for another night on the town. After much debate but feeling a fresh buzz from the God-talk, I decided to join my weekend buddies, again. We had a blast, again, but to be honest, I think I need to stop going out so much. It's so expensive! A taxi ride here, a dinner there, a cocktail or two...it adds up fast. I need to save my money for Japan. A train ride from Tokyo to Osaka costs $120! But next weekend is a holiday, and a ski trip to a mountain near Seoul is being planned...ugh! The New York Times headlines that show up in my email about the U.S. economy don't ease my guilt either. I'm torn between wanting to save and wanting to just cease the opportunity for celebration!

One thing definitely worth celebrating was that chicken enchilada I ate tonight. Great idea, Nicole! Little pieces of chicken, cream of mushroom, a small handful of rice (thought of that addition myself,) and cheese wrapped in a tortilla with a dollop of sour cream and salsa on the side! Yummy! My belly is satisfied with full-Western-fat of creamy, cheesy, Tex-Mex. I'll sleep well tonight!

American food escapades, Hyo Rin, and stubbornness

I had another dream last week about food. I dreamed I was at home with my mom. We were contemplating dinner options and wavering back and forth between making homemade lasagne or getting Subway. I woke up thinking about a saucy, cheesy and meaty lasagne, and another rice and fish lunch wasn't going to satisfy my cravings.

The dream inspired me to set up a dinner date with my two favorite Korean co-workers, SuJung and Patrick. On Thursday night, after work, we would jump into Patrick's car and head straight for Outback Steakhouse for an all-American meat and potato meal. SuJung and I actually spent quite a bit of time on the Outback Web site, thinking about what we might order. We were set!

However, Outback Steakhouse isn't open at 9:30 p.m. on a weeknight. The darkened Outback sign was a pretty big disappointment, but we were hungry. So we wound up driving all over Daegu in search for a similar steakhouse. When Outback was closed, we tried TGIF. Then we spotted a well-lit restaurant called VIPS and went in to discover they had just closed. So we went downtown for new ideas, our hunger pains grew with each failed attempt and our mini complaints doubled in frequency. We tried a spaghetti restaurant Patrick knew, but it was also closed. Finally, I took my two Korean friends to that ethnic food restaurant I had been one time with Eli and Tharine.

By 10:30, we were finally filling our stomachs with food. I ordered a steak and potato meal, which was delicious to me at the time, but in hindsight, far from the flavors I had craved. Many Korean restaurants drench their steaks in sauce. I don't know if it's because the meats not actually that good or maybe because sauce is characteristic of most Korean foods, but it was definitely not prepared in an American fashion. And I actually had to request extra salt for the potato. Still, we ate a bunch, sampled each other's entrees and had a great time.

SuJung fell asleep in the back on the way home, and Patrick and I talked about our students the whole way back to Jilyang. I told him that little Hyo Rin is my cutest student. She's about seven years old. She always wears her hair in two long braids, and she loves English class. She's so good these days that she's now in a class full of boys that are a few years older than her and much more rowdy. Fortunately, I think her innocent presence keeps me from losing my temper. I told Patrick that sometimes I wish I could adopt her, take her home and let her sit in the corner of my bedroom to ask me questions about English whenever she wants. Sounds sort of awkward when I say it aloud. Haha! Here is a picture of me with Hyo Rin and Bon Hyuk.

Anyway, on Friday, Bon Hyuk and Hyo Rin were coloring pictures when Hyo Rin said to herself..."Beautiful!" I agreed. Hyo Rin looked at me and said with a sudden confidence, "Teacher, you beautiful!" My heart melted in delight.

On Saturday night, Eli and Elise, who had heard about my Western grub escapade, took me to The Holy Grill, where I had the best Western food I've eaten in Daegu thus far. We shared brushetta for an appetizer. Unable to decide between the Tex-Mex menu and the Holy Cow, Elise ordered the double-pattied cheese burger, and I got the enchilada, then we split the entrees. It was so delicious! By Monday, my cravings had been fully satisfied, and I was able to enjoy fish and rice again.

One of the lessons I've learned about kids is that sometimes you have to be willing to play the stubbornness game with them. I mean you have to be willing to calmly be more stubborn than they are. On Friday, I tested these boundaries when a girl refused to give me her test paper because she was afraid of the results. She had refused another time a couple of weeks ago, and I had to have Patrick persuade her a few days later to give me the paper. She had left four questions blank.

On Friday, she again refused, and I decided I would keep the students in class until she gave me the paper. In my mind, I figured she'd give in once she realized that all of her peers were waiting after class for her. I calmly announced that we could leave as soon as I had all four papers.

You wouldn't believe it! The students waited 25 minutes after class for this girl to give me her paper--that was fifteen minutes into the next class' time. Several Koreans went into the room and spoke to the kids in Korean while I waited, guarding the door. Finally, Patrick (I don't know what it is about him) was able to convince her after five or ten minutes to give me the test. She got 6 out of 8 points correct!

I don't know if that was the right thing or not, but I feel like it's important that she recognizes me as a teacher and doesn't try me like that anymore. Foreign teachers, who don't speak Korean, can be taken advantage of by kids who do. Language is power.

Tonight, I made an English-only rule in one of my conversation classes. I counted Korean "strikes" on the board for each student. I was amazed at the results of this rule. Minwoo usually talks a lot to his friend in Korean while I teach, but he was speaking a lot less and speaking in English. I may have to do that more often!