Cooking class, while making chocolate chip cupcakes:
"Teacher, I make cookies."
"You're making cookies?"
"No. When I was 9, I made cookies at my house."
"Just one time?"
The one-time cookie story wasn't as sad as the girl who said she had used baking powder once before to make oatmeal. Ah, Korea, the baking-less country.
There was a boy today wearing a red-and-white striped shirt. Not knowing his name, I instead called him Waldo all day. Strangely, he answered to this.
"My name is Erin and I'm from the USA."
"I live in Washington, DC. Do you know Washington?"
"Yes! Obama! Teacher, is Obama your brother?"
The best response to a "Do you know Obama" - slash - "Is Obama your brother/father/husband" is just: "Do you know Lee Myung-Bak? Is he your father?"
This cracks up at the class at least.
It's hard to take wannabe rebels seriously when they sport mullets and rattails, donning synthetic track suits to complement the socks-with-sandals look. I have to laugh as they pretend to be too-cool-for-school while entwining fingers with their same-sex seatmate and playing a passionate game of footsie under the table.
For a violently homophobic country, it's not uncommon to see men of all ages walking down the street hand-in-hand. It seems like the more homophobic a country is, the more publicly affectionate members of the same sex are toward each other.