It’s another exciting Tuesday night in Hongsan, and with Friday off for the Jeju conference this weekend, I’m half-done with the week. Yippee! It’s been a tough one so far. I nearly lost my voice trying to talk over all the second- and third-graders. If I were a better teacher, of course, I’d be able to command respect, but currently, I can only demand about three seconds of silence, and only after I make a loud, startling noise. Yeah, I’m frustrated. And it’s only April! Maybe I will force Mom to teach my classes so I can have another month of recovery…
Today I ran into my spinster stalker and I suspect (hope) I was unforgivably rude. I was walking past his pine farm on my way home—even though I actively desire NOT to see him, I’m disinclined to actually go out of my way to ensure I don’t, because I firmly believe he should not exert such control over my life and routines (though in a way, he does, because it’s always a tense few minutes as I walk toward and past and pray he’s not there). I was not lucky today and heard a loud toot from a car parked in front of the farm. Why he was sitting there in the car is not clear, but after I ignored it he followed me and offered me a ride, to which I responded with a curt no and continued walking, despite his attempts at conversation. I feel a little bad, but after last week’s disastrous meeting in which I fear I left him unwarranted hope in my attempts to be diplomatic, I felt it necessary to be extra firm. I really, really hope this is the last time.
Thankfully, not ALL my encounters with the opposite sex today were so horrendous. Unexpectedly, I had a lengthy conversation with the fifth-grade teacher (he of the shiny silver suits, snazzy purple v-neck sweaters—yes, multiple items!—and painful eye twitch). I really thought he was one of those who despise all the wasted years of English learning and avoids it at all costs, but evidently I was mistaken…he painstakingly introduced himself (I wonder how long he’s been practicing that!) and informed me that although he can read and understand English okay, he can’t speak and he wishes to practice this with me. Now I understand our bizarre conversation of last week a bit better—he turned around in the lunch line to ask me if I liked to sing songs and then sang a snatch of “I can’t live”—and I have to admit that I’m intrigued. HE is intriguing, what with his gaudy attire and over-the-top mannerisms. But we’ll see…maybe we will never speak again. He’s never even attended the teachers’ workshop.