Mashed Potatoes

A few days ago one of my Korean coteachers asked me if I'd do a cooking class with three of the preschool and kindergarten classes. She wanted me to make mashed potatoes since that's a "traditional American food." I had to confess that I didn't know how to make mashed potatoes, which surprised her. The truth is that I've never cared to make them. I'm not a picky eater in the least, but I've never been able to understand what the fuss is all about when it comes to potatoes. They're starchy and bland, and I plumb don't like 'em. Mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, french fries, potato chips . . . I'll pass. Nevertheless, I agreed to do a mashed potatoes cooking lesson for the kids, though I had to search the internet first for some basic mashed potato recipes. Then I checked with Mom to confirm.

So today, armed with a bunch of potatoes and some cooking utensils, I proceeded to demonstrate for my very young students how to make mashed potatoes. It turned out to be a fun lesson. The kids all got to take turns putting the potatoes in the water, stirring them (unnecessary, I know, but we needed to do something while they were cooking), and then mashing them. The kids got to eat some with their lunch. Everyone was happy. I'd call it a success.The Korean teacher thought I should put sugar, mayonnaise, and corn in the mashed potatoes, but I talked her out of it. After she tasted the final product (sans sugar mayonnaise, and corn), she told me she was surprised that they turned out so well without those extra ingredients. Oh my. Mashed potatoes are bad enough. Mashed potatoes and mayonnaise?! Two things from my "no thanks" list in the same recipe?! You've got to be kidding me.

I had another crier today. That makes 4 for this week. I was hopeful that we'd be back down to our usual weekly average of 3, but no such luck. To be fair, he had an acceptable reason to cry. Another kid, who has a hard time keeping his hands to himself, pushed him. I'm hoping tomorrow can pass without a crying episode. We shall see.

Some of my coworkers at the preschool told me today, through an interpreter, that they're really happy to have me working with them and that they wish they could talk to me. I wish that, too. It feels weird to see someone everyday and not be able to say more than just a few greetings and simple sentences. I really like getting to know people, especially the people with whom I interact closely. It feels weird to have this barrier around me all the time. I really appreciate it when people are friendly to me and make an effort to get to know me, despite feeling nervous about their English skills. I understand that it's difficult to learn a foreign language and that talking to a native-speaker of that language is uncomfortable when you're not confident in your own skills. I feel like that everyday when I need to use Korean, so when people go out of their way and put themselves in the awkward situation of communicating with me, I really appreciate it.

(Note: This is quite different from the complete strangers who are so overzealous about practicing their English that they do silly things like ask other people to move so that they can sit next to me on the subway and have a conversation, or come up to me in the English section of bookstores and ask me what words mean, or want me to listen to the English lecture they currently have playing in their MP3 player. Those are all real experiences, by the way. A little odd.)

Today Joy did something that she's only done a couple times but that really tickles me. She was trying to figure something out, and instead of speaking to me in English, she unintentionally blurted out her frustration and asked me for help in Korean. I had a deer-in-the-headlights expression as I was trying to make sense out of the few words I understood. She realized what she had just done and repeated herself in English. It tickled me, though, because it meant that for that brief instant, I wasn't so different in her mind that I automatically required a different language and a lot of thought to talk to. It always tickles me when people momentarily forget that I'm different and open themselves up to me as they would to a Korean friend. These are the situations that inspire me to work harder at learning Korean--wanting to understand my friends and students more fully, not only in my native language but in theirs as well.