Cow foot soup meal count: 11
Today, although last week I would have said it was impossible, we brought volleyball to a whole new level of intensity. This time we went to some sort of volleyball tournament against all the other elementary schools in Gongju. The principals sat under fancy tents in their suits and ties and made speeches to us teachers (we were lined up on the volleyball courts below them), official men explained the workings of the bracket (at least, I think that's what they were doing), and then 3 1/2 hours of volleyball got started. There were line judges, head judges with whistles and high seats, and teams of elementary school teachers in matching uniforms (my school wore pink, black, and red). Fortunately, I was allowed to be a part of my school's cheering section, clapping whenever Gyodong scored a point, and getting introduced to various teachers and administrators from other schools as Gyodong's foreign trophy.
I've realized that since no one in my homestay can understand 98% of the things I say, my inner monologue has moved firmly to the outside. It's kind of my method of dealing with my host mom constantly making fun of me. I hope I snap out of the habit before I start spending lots of time with native English speakers.