I’m working at a summer camp here, and I have no net access in my dorm room. I seem to have gotten a bum room, or something. My computer, though, doesn’t actually seem to be working in any of the dorm rooms, though it connects to the LAN at the office just fine. So I am spending evenings trying to write my essay, and wondering if I might have email or comments on my blog, or whether anyone’s posted anything interesting lately.

Of course, it probably could all be fixed in a flash if the gwalishil ajeoshi (the build security man) could be convinced to have the building’s connections checked, or even let me check them. But gwalishil ajeoshis never do anything just because it ought to be done. You have to beg, argue, beg some more, wallow, compliment, maybe give them a gift, and then beg more. It’s bullshit, and for different reasons this week Myoung’s been mentioning every once in a while about how powerful gwalishil ajeoshis are. But alas, there is little to be done.

By the way, it seems likely I’ll be offline for roughly a week after tonight: Frday and Saturday have the band playing gigs in Kyonggido and perhaps in Seoul. So I’ll probably be back online only briefly next Sunday. Then again, there is the possibility of a few hours on Monday and Tuesday nights, when Mark and I work the camp’s Homework Session.

The camp, by the way, is going well enough. It’s a bit jumbly with the schedules, and I am generally exhausted by the end of the day. I’ve heard rumors that one organizer wants to expand all teachers’ duties, but I they’re enough already and if anyone asks I’ll bluntly tell them so. It’s bad enough having organized it so teachers not only eat with the kids, but also share the dorm and even shower and toilet facilities with students. Not giving us a few hours off in the evening is a ridiculous idea.

Anyway, I need to shower. I’m meeting Lime in a few hours near her campus, but before that I need to swing downtown and pick up some supplies. She’s starting what she translates as her “clerkship” in the hospital—the third-year hospital work that is part of her medical training—and it’s traditional that students in her position are given presents by all the people who know of this and wish to express pride and high hopes for the student. I’m making her present myself, and I want to pick up the needed supplies before I meet her this afternoon. I just hope I don’t mess up the gift!