“Why are you late?” Special Forces Instructor asks me, in Korean.
“Um, my boyfriend wanted to watch Obama, but we don’t have a TV, so I had to drive him to a friend’s house.”
Two of my classmates look at each other. One says, “I understood ‘Obama'” and the other, “I got ‘television.'”
Special Forces, who I assume wasn’t expecting such an answer laughs, “OK, warm-up.”
We drill, kick after kick in class. He speaks to me in English and slips into Korean. I say nothing, responding in Korean. I like it when we speak Korean.
After class I ask the instructor if he likes soju, and where I can find it since the Korean market doesn’t carry it. He says we should go out for drinks together.
“Yes,” I say, “We will drink, and become friends.”