"Did You See The [Beginner Guitarist's] Hair?"

Got a haircut today in at the salon below one of the buildings at Royal Palace. I noticed some hair growing on the back of my neck when I was psyching myself up in the mirror before class. Matt came in the bathroom and I told him about the dream I had last night, the one about getting fired for giving beer to a couple of my students. It wasn't really a nightmare, I told him, because it wasn't scary and I didn't feel bad about the whole thing, except for corrupting the children. Don't worry, someone is thinking of the children.

The salon below the palace is nice, but Korean, as one may expect in a country like Korea. The staff there speak just enough English to have light conversation, usually involving how handsome I am or the children of one of the stylists. I've had the same one twice now, she has braces and is a staunch Christian. I say "staunch" because I assume anyone who brings up her religion in a barbershop introduction must be a staunch-something. One of her children is dead, she told me lightly, like she was broaching a new avenue in the conversation.

That conversation was another time; today, I didn't talk to her. I talked to Luke, the Korean chemical salesman, next to whom I sat while getting my hair cut. (That "whom" business is a real bother, isn't it?) His real name is Kwong-Suk. He studied in Connecticut for a year and his English is great because of it. He tells me that, since Vietnam, the city he stayed in has been very poor and "there are many Spanish and negroes." He does business with Chinese companies and tells me the people over there are very lazy. He asked me if I could drink (literally, "Can you drink?") and I said I knew how to drink, so we exchanged numbers. Surely, I will be arriving to work hungover within the next two weeks.

I left with a haircut approximate to what I wanted. I had the translation application on my phone convert "Short sides, long top" to Korean. The stylist had no idea what I was talking about, and asked if I liked what I got last time. She gave me a hard-boiled egg when I left.

People are pretty damn good at jump rope in Korea