You are welcome

"Mom, I ordered jajangmyeon, and it arrived so fast it felt like it was already at the door. It’s cheap, delicious, and there’s no tip!"
That’s what my son said during a Skype call from Seoul.

Since my husband and I didn’t speak English very well, we only spoke Korean at home while raising our kids. If they answered in Korean, I’d give them an extra spoonful of food, so they naturally picked it up. But teaching them to read and write Korean was a different story. They squirmed and whined,
“Mom, I don’t want to do this anymore!”

Trying to teach kids who didn’t want to learn wore me out before it wore them out.

“Let’s stop. Forget it. It’s not like the world will end if you don’t know Korean. Just don’t blame me later for not teaching you.”

I gave up more times than I can count.

I called a church in Queens that had Korean classes, but they coldly hung up, saying no buses came from Brooklyn. And we practically lived next door!

Watching me struggle, my husband finally put up a chalkboard and, like an old-time village schoolteacher, began:
“Ga-na-da-ra-ma-ba-sa... a-ya-eo-yeo-o-u-i...”

The real lessons began.

“Out of all the writing systems in the world, Hangul is the only one where we know exactly who invented it and when,” my husband said.

“Really?”

The kids would gasp and actually show interest.

Now grown up and in Korea, my son was thrilled he could read menus and pick out what he wanted to eat.
“At restaurants, the ajummas ask me how old I am, what I do, and if I go to church. They even give me extra side dishes! Why are Korean people so curious about others’ lives?”
“They’re not being nosy, just warm and friendly. So answer kindly—don’t get annoyed.”

“Do you have a girlfriend yet?” I asked.
“Korean girls are different from the ones in New York. They kind of look the same, wear matching clothes with their boyfriends, the same shoes and even couple rings. And they talk in this cute baby voice and always want to be with their boyfriends. Why do they do that?”
He seemed a bit surprised by the cultural differences among people his age.

“But Korean people are really kind. They always tell me not to hesitate to ask for help,” he said.

He even knew the word “burden” in Korean! I was amazed at how his Korean pronunciation and vocabulary kept improving with every call.

“Mom, when I speak English, they tell me to speak Korean instead.”

Finally, he seemed to realize how valuable it is to speak another language—especially his parents’ native tongue. Just as important as doing well in school.

“If you want to eat food like I made at home, look for something called baekban.”
“What’s that?”
Come to think of it, I’m not even sure if restaurants still use the term baekban—a typical set meal from the '60s and '70s.
“Just look carefully at the menu.”
“Hmm... I think I saw grilled fish or something.”

“Mom, thanks for teaching me Korean so well.”
I was so moved I couldn’t say anything. After a moment of silence, all I could manage was,
“You are welcome.”