it’s so cold in Alaska…

 …but it’s all in her mind.

My host parents are sending me to school with three bags of cheese tomorrow.  One for each of the English teachers at my school.  Our freezer is full of cheese.  Maybe it is also cheap because she works at the milk factory?

When my host father called me to dinner there were only rice bowls and a plate of something white and slippery.  And sesame oil infused go-chu-jang to dip it in.  Sometimes the dinner table is a source of dismay.  Luckily, kim is so delicious and only 60 calories a pack.  Only after my host mother got home did we determine that the slippery white-ness was some kind of expensive squid, which I had half suspected, but it was much easier to eat with the mystery gone.  I keep getting questions about Alaska.  Are there resources there?  Are there bears?

I now suspect that my host mother is the reason that alcohol consumption seemed so absent when I first arrived.  She hajima-ed with dismay as he poured a second shot for me and he said to me conspiratorily: “Sul mot haeyo —  molayo, molayo.”  She can’t drink, she doesn’t know.  And after she left to take the neighbors some bags of cheese he stood to imitate the effect that alcohol has on her coordination.

There are some words you realize, only after you learn them, that you have been hearing all along, just below your comprehension.  Last night I finally learned majimak –the end– and have already found it useful.


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