Pray, Good Sir, Would You Happen to Have Any Lucky Charms?

As I type there is water on the boil for what I intend to be a spaghetti dinner. It's just past nine at night and I have spent the last six hours observing various teachers of various classes and being exposed to numerous snuffling youths. Children are vectors of disease and I fear a future of perpetual runny noses and clouded thoughts. Yesterday at lunch I was informed nigh-cheerfully that I will be sick much of the time. Oh boy.

I haven't consumed Lucky Charms cereal since early in my college days but suddenly I almost want them. I hate to admit it but my palate is not cut out for most Asian food as it is found here. I can't read the labels to determine animal content and dread a number of flavors particular to the region, chief among them "fishy". What my time in Japan taught me is that one should never assume that a food, regardless of its resemblance to familiar Western fare, will taste as you expect it. Thus, although the jar of sauce I bought depicts tomatoes and mushrooms and contains a thick, red liquid, I cannot safely assume that what I am about to consume will taste anything like spaghetti.

Observing the classes was interesting. I was assured it would be a struggle to maintain consciousness through six boring hours but the real challenge was fatigue from jetlag. In fact, generously, I was not signed up to observe a solid six hours but found no point in mooching around in the teachers' lounge during the breaks provided and chose to follow whoever was headed purposefully to a class to continue my education. Tomorrow is a full day of observation but I think I will manage much better given that I will likely sleep normally tonight.

Several of the instructors are married with both spouses working at our hagwon. They seem to have gotten married directly after college. I am attempting to get a fix on what kind of person chooses to take this type of job. I am tempted to say some form of desperation plays a role (either for money or to get out of whatever dodge you happen to be in[1]). One instructor indicated that he had no interest in working an entry level job given the bad pay and my response, partially vocalized, was that you don't get to expect a whole lot when all you have in the world is a BA in English.

I have now been gripped with the sudden fear that even the innocuously packaged spaghetti noodles I purchased might be secretly infused with fish sauce....

....I am saved! It tastes almost like spaghetti.

[1] Myself included. "Dodge" could be simply dissatisfaction with whatever you were doing before you came here.