Monday has brought changes to our happy little oasis. We, some three hundred-fifty odd English speaking so and so's are having our dingy ivory tower rattled. No more field trips to see pots and paintings, no more dinner on the house and rice wine in a bowl. Classes start at 9 and run until 8. They are one part informative and two parts sleepy. It's no more Mr. Nice Korea. In four days men will arrive from all of our future provincial homes and inspect us: haunches, teeth and hooves. I will have to buy a tie. I will have to braid my mane.
First impressions are important; I hear these men are made of clay.
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