Beach, Bitch, Sit, Shit

So I'm teaching the lesson on how to order food in English. Key sentences: I'm hungry. Can I have some..?

Easy right? But where was the little birdy to tell me not to include a picture of a dog with anything edible in a country where dogs are something edible?

Oh. I was supposed to know that.

Oops.

I pull up a picture of an old woman scowling at a begging dog as she eats ice-cream. Cue the class in unison:

"I'm hungry! Can I have some dog?"

Ah, can I have some dog. I'll file that one away under things I never thought I would experience in a classroom, right after all the other things I never thought I would experience in a classroom:

"No, not shitty. City. Sssssssssity."

This dog experience is second only to the time my co-teacher said to me: "Good Morning, Anne! Should I teach the difference between beach and bitch?"

What? Twenty minutes prior I was searching for berryholic yogurt. Now I'm searching for a senario where beach and bitch could fall into a context where they run the risk of being misinterpreted.

I think of an ill-informed Korean kid: "Where can I find a phat beach?" Slap.

I think of my co-teacher saying, "One, two, three, look at me. Quiet please. Okay, this is a bitch. Bitch. This is a beach. Beach. Different. Understand?"

Ah, the sheer entertainment. I'm tempted. I want to say yes. I want to shout yes. YES. YES! I THINK YOU SHOULD TEACH THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEACH AND BITCH!!!

"Anne! What do you think?"

"No."-- restraint making its brief cameo into my life. "Damnit, I don't think it's neccessary."

But apparently here is where a Siegert missed a golden opportunity to be innappropriate-- and we never miss those!

Apparently-- a friend informs me-- fowl mouthed Korean boys grow up to be-- yes-- fowl mouthed Korean men. She tells me of her latest date with one:

"I need to shit," he says.

She inquires further, hoping she's heard wrong. "What?"

"I really need to SHIT." Now he's looking around. "Do you see a good place to shit?"

"Wait, you need to what?"

Pantomiming with a squat he says, "Shit."

She smiles nervously, turning her head to the side. I hope he's saying 'sit' wrong and not 'shit' right. "I don't see a place to..."

"Ah, let's shit," he says, pointing to a bench.

And thus, relief so tangible you can shit on it: he was saying 'sit' wrong.

Monday morning rolls around and I say, "Good Morning, Seosaegneem. Should I teach the difference between shit and sit?"