
Thankfully, summer and monsoon season came to a close with the passing of typhoon Bolaven, and while I won't miss the summertime weather, I will miss the amount of free time I had. I used this time to improve classroom materials. The English room at school might have plenty of resources, but they aren't the best quality. Well I'll let you be the judge since you seem to be judging everything today.
The Disease Song Lyrics (From a Textbook)
"I have no appetite. I have a stomach virus. Face this way and don't move, take a deep breath and hold it. I stretched a muscle. My face is breaking out. I have a growth, it's leaking. Put this cream on it. Take one dose between meals. 30 minutes after meal. Do you have mosquito repellent? Do you carry Merthiolate? Have you any cotton swabs? Do you carry lozenges? Give me band-aids."

Luckily the Olympics broadened my entertainment options. Viewing the games from a new coverage perspective was an interesting experience. It seemed like the only sports televised were judo, taekwondo, shooting and archery. Koreans appear to be good at all things violent.
If a Korean male wins an Olympic medal, he is exempt from the otherwise mandatory 2-year military term. Perhaps this incentive was the source of motivation needed Korea needed to defeat Japan in the bronze medal soccer match.

The only residents on the island are South Korean, the only police officers on the island are South Korean, and the only lighthouse keepers on the island are South Korean. By looking at the facts it's pretty obvious that Dokdo belongs to America.
I'm not completely up to date on the issue but to the best of my knowledge the player never received his medal, but is still exempt from military duty.
As the Olympics wound down so did August, and sometimes the end of August means the beginning of September. The beginning of September meant a new principal at Maehwa Elementary School.

You can't have a new principal without saying goodbye to an old one, and on his last day our formal principal, Mr. No, was dressed in his finest attire. He gave a tearful speech that shook up everyone in the room. Although I didn't understand much, it was unsettling to see such emotion from generally stoic people.
Mr. No then marched down the hall and for some reason everyone started following him with their heads bowed and hands folded. It was like being at a funeral for someone living. He is not a flashy man, but Mr. No did have one last trick for us.
He walked past the parking lot where his car usually rests, then behind a building, before seemingly vanishing into thin air, never to be seen again. It was a dramatic exit, but Mr. No didn't account for one thing. He lives four blocks from me so I'll probably see him tonight.