Speak English in the Colonel's House

Today my boss and I took the cram school brats to KFC. The mission was half experiential English lesson, half local advertising. Boss thought it would be good for business if the neighborhood saw me out on the town with the kiddies.

For dramatic effect, she made me stand behind the counter with the KFC manager while the students whispered their orders to the two of us. I even got to handle the money. It was almost like I was really working at KFC, kind of like a premonition - because that's probably what I will be doing eight months from now, or whenever I return Stateside.

On the upside, taking the kids to the Colonel's house gave me perhaps the one good excuse available outside the continental U.S. to bark "This is Kentucky Fried Chicken! Speak English!"

While I scraped mayo off my chicken burger, Boss discussed our upcoming joint teaching demonstration. The two of us are looking to pick up hours at another cram school, but first we must host a demo for prospective students and parents.

Thankfully for me, I realized awhile ago that whenever a cram school boss uses the phrase "demonstration" what they really mean is "dog and pony show." I would probably go farther in this business if I had a pyrotechnics certificate than a masters in education.

Boss: "Maybe we can bring some costumes."

Me: "Hmm... Maybe. I'll think about it."

Boss: "Or maybe I can come dressed as a clown."

I concentrate on my mayonnaise-drenched chickenwich.

Boss: "You know, with the nose? I can be the clown and then you can teach them some sentences. You think that is good idea?"

Me: "Maybe. Let me think about it."

I can't decide if I should let her keep holding the reins on this one because this is her country and she knows what the people want, or if I should try and dissuade her from the circus act out of my own sense of shame.

It's a toughie.