The USS Ronald Reagan is in port. If I didn't know it was a large carrier I could have easily guessed it; there are about 2 or 3 thousand waygooks (foreigners) wandering *my* neighbourhood. It feels strange being surrounded by so many westerners, I think I've adapted to the culture here without any shock.
A friendly Russian guy (the usual foreign majority in my district) stopped me in the street and began to blather on in Russian. I gave him my only Russian phrase "Ya ne gavaru parusski." ("I don't speak Russian.") He looked momentarily confused and asked me "Amerikan?" I said "Kanadian." He said "Ahh, good, good.", which is the usual reaction I get when I tell people I'm Canadian. I don't think they know what else to say.
The Texas Street vendors trucked out their gaudiest wares for the shore-leave crowd. Switchblades, balisong, lighters shaped like handguns, etc. A drunk Korean guy started hassling me in Korean, I told him "Moradurussoyo" ("I don't understand") but he would not be dissuaded I have no idea what he was going on about except that he kept saying "miguk" (mee-gook, "American") I'm probably better off not knowing what it was all about, the junk-peddler started yelling at him in Korean and I just walked away.
French class is going to be challenging. I've started a week late and I'm skipping class tomorrow (I think) to catch up on some sleep and ditch this cold and sore throat that have been dogging me for the last week and a bit. The instructor is a French guy and the students are all college-age Korean girls. Sounds like a fun time, but I have to learn a lot more French before I can talk to anyone. The instructor speaks decent English, so I'm not completely lost yet.
Anyway, I'm off to eat my thousandth box of 5000 Won chicken, have a beer and hit the hay.