A Strike

I got the idea from being a substitute tutor over the summer. So I posted an ad onto Craigslist to be a private tutor for anyone needing conversational English help. He contacted me. I saw the marks above his email that told me he was Asian. I had received two emails from others that didn't pan out, well, one, the other was spam. So I read his and responded, wondering if this was a prank, too? He said he'd meet me the next week at 4 pm. I didn't hear back and thought that was that. But he texted me on that day and hour, asking where was I, as he was where we had agreed to be.

He's real! He said he had sent a returning email, but I never found it. So I apologized and we met the next week.

When I was about eight years younger than my student is now.

He sat there at the cafe. I knew he was Korean. I noticed he was tall and had hair as black as the coffee he was drinking. Young, about the age of my daughter, Sarah, he seemed shy and a bit agitated. We took a table in the back and began what now includes six weeks of conversation developing into such a delightful association. When he leaves for Korea in December, I shall miss him, but am so glad to have met him.

We have talked about bowling, beer, Sex and the City (he writes down the phrases and I explain it), why "john" is a toilet, baseball, parents, girlfriends, ex-husbands, daughters, the future, but most of all NYC. He loves NYC and today we talked about Halloween. "I am jealous because in Korea, we do not have this custom," he said. He told me about going to the Halloween parade and how it was "fabulous." He rode home on the train next to Batman. It is in these moments when we snorkel with laughter that I thank NYC for allowing me to sit in this cafe and talk to this young man.

Today, we also talked about his first day here. And how scared he was. But he came here, alone, and not knowing this city at all. He said he stood in Times Square and shook with happiness. He went on to Queens where he is subletting and found it quiet and boring. A true Manhattanite.

I feel so vital sitting and talking to him, listening, forcing him to listen to me. And the laughter that erupts. And how he is a writer who I am encouraging to write about these six months here before it is back to Korea where he will return and go to college to become a computer tech, hoping to work for Sony. We Googled Silicon Valley and his eyes bore into mine. "You are giving me hope," he said.

The aggression I felt on that first day turned out to be his dismay from the tutor he hired before me, a man who forced grammar exercises on him when what he really wanted was to talk.

I can do that. I think I've found another niche.

Tonight we walked together after our session, him for the N train, me for the F. We had been talking about trying to give directions to tourists and accidentally sending them in the wrong direction. Well, me, that is. I pointed to the right and said, "That's your subway station, isn't it?" And he said, "No it is one street more. You did that last week, too." Laughter.

I will miss him. I feel blessed beyond words.I am so thankful he answered my ad. I would have missed such a hilariously good time. And such a beautiful friend.