My most recent embarrassing Korean encounter

So with drama unfolding before me, and the stress of preparing lessons for a class who is less-than-thrilled to be at my disposal, I thought I'd lighten the mood by blogging my most embarrassing Korean moment of late. This occurred, oh, 10 minutes ago or so.

You have all seen the pictures and heard of the crying that ensued as a result of mold in our apartment. Many of you are probably wondering what ever happened with that issue. Well, I'll tell you.

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

One day some cleaning ladies from school showed up to "take care of the mold." They came, sprayed some insect spray, took one look at the mold, and left. That was all. Never to return.

Apparently, that is what the administration considered, "Doing something about the problem." (some things are so similar to American schools...^_^)

A week ago, Chaz and I decided we would then do something about the problem and cleaned the area with bleach. This seemed to eliminate the smell, and we thought we had at least killed the mold. Not satisfied with the ugly, nasty mold stains on our walls, we decided that we would replace the wallpaper. Most likely not completely okay to do, but we figured it would be taken care of, and then the school would be glad they didn't have to take care of it. So yesterday, I began to tear the wallpaper off of the wall starting at a spot that was already bubbled up and torn. I tore a tiny bit off to reveal moldy, spore-infested drywall underneath.

This job is going to be more of a big deal than we anticipated.

I tore off another small area, to reveal WET, green moldy drywall.

Hmm...the problem continues.

So I took pictures of the moldy drywall (hoping this would give the school immediacy) and told my co-teacher about the mold problem. I explained how this was a health hazard, and that Chaz had an allergy. She totally understood and said, "I think this is an emergency." I agreed. So we marched right down to the administration office, and Eun-ah explained the dire situation. The admin said they would send someone with me at 3:00 to look at the mold. Looking isn't doing, but at least then my message would get across, right? No one could look at that and NOT see urgency, right?

Fortunately, the administration pulled through and they called our apartment complex who said their staff would take care of the problem. And they did get right to it. When I got home from school (an hour ago), someone had clearly been in to check out the problem.

—You're most likely wondering, "Wait, I thought this was an embarrassing story." Well, I'm getting to that.—

So I get home from school, satisfied that something is getting done. Being just home from school I have to, um, use the bathroom. So I do. I turn on the fan and shut the door behind me. Not one minute later, I have a knock on the door.

Yes. It is two men there to look at the mold problem.

"Dear God, please don't let them go in the bathroom."

Yes. They go in the bathroom.

So I'm sitting in the living area feeling my face getting redder and redder as two men are in my bathroom looking at pipes and dealing with what came out of my pipes.

Then, then as if I can't get any more embarrassed. THEY FLUSH THE TOILET!

Oh my gosh. I can't even explain how embarrassed I was. I can't even imagine the conversation they were having to each other about the incredibly smelly white girl. Shortly after, they left trying to explain that they would work on the apartment upstairs. I'm sure what occurred in my bathroom had nothing to do with it.

At least my mold is getting taken care of...