As I sit here, Eun Ho and Ye Eun crawl around on my floor putting together a 500 piece Montana puzzle. It’s really hard and I should be helping them (I put together the entire edge earlier), but my aging body isn’t made for the floor anymore. They really love the animals—Eun Ho’s putting together the bald eagle, and Ye Eun’s into the mountain goat (which I accidentally told her was a big horn sheep…some Montana girl I am!). Again I marvel at their patience. I don’t know many American children (if ANY) who would spend more than five minutes at a challenging puzzle like this. It took us a few days to do it the last time I took it out. But I spoke too soon…now they’re looking at my pictures for the umpteenth time (now my friend Jenny’s height is the point of interest), and Oma’s on the floor putting the puzzle together. What funny funny children they are! Ye Eun’s lately taken to asking me countless questions—this from a girl whose teacher told me she never ever talked in the whole year he had her except to say yes or no toward the end of their time together. She’s constantly asking me how to say things in English, even though I know she’ll never remember them after only hearing once. I appreciate her enthusiasm, though. And now she’s into asking me questions about my pictures. She is slowly memorizing the names of my friends and delights in being able to recognize and name people in different pictures. It is quite remarkable, actually—it’s hard to recognize people in different pictures when you don’t know them, since the camera captures only a piece of them. She is convinced Seth is my boyfriend because I have so many pictures of him and gives me a knowing look whenever I say he’s my friend. And I’ve learned a bit of Korean from them, too. These two youngsters are the only ones I can understand somewhat and we both have the patience to talk very simply to each other. Granted, our conversations generally consist of seventy percent insult trading, twenty five percent one word jokes, and five percent hello/goodbye, but I enjoy them. I really have lucked out in being part of such a wonderful, welcoming, and warm-hearted family. They are my window into Korea and I can see now how it would be easy to have a terrible time here with a host family that wasn’t so perfectly matched for me. There is the whole church thing—my host mother taught a class this morning and they were all singing and reading and who knows what for half an hour before I left for school—but as long as there’s understanding and tolerance, I am happy and grateful. I hope they like me at least a little, too!
Today I had to say goodbye to my principal and co-teacher. I still don’t know if my principal will return in the spring—he evidently is not talking to anybody about it. He was very concerned about my health and safety, as always, and very thankful and appreciative of my work. At least, I think he is. It’s always dangerous with interpreters doing most of the talking. But I am glad now I didn’t complain about my dismal wages. We have a good relationship and I don’t really think they are trying to blackball me. Then again, they did spend that $3000 on a friggin English sensor that repeats the most obnoxious phrases (to the point where I now avoid that section of the hallway)…Well, they’ve already said I can have a week off with my dad when he comes in April, so it’s all good. I’m sure it will come back to me somehow. As I’ve said before, life is pretty sweet and I’m not about to ruin it with minor complaints (about money, of all things!).