“Ms, you know Korean, right?” my buddy at school asked me.
“Eh…” I hate that question.
“Can you come down to the office?”
I anticipated her next sentence. “I don’t know enough school language to be an interpreter or translator.”
“But you can read, right? It’s something I got from one of my parents.”
I guess I anticipated it incorrectly. “I can try. Why don’t you come up here—wait, you want me to show off to the people in the office?”
She laughed. “Exactly.”
I grabbed my electronic dictionary (which lives in my purse) and headed to the office. My buddy handed me a package of food and I tried not to laugh. “This is Japanese,” I said, pointing, “And this is Chinese. But there is no Korean on this package.”
“You can’t read Japanese, right?”
I nodded, “Right, I can’t read Japanese.”