“Tell her you got this especially for her,” John said to me as he drove, pointing to the basket of fruit wrapped in clear acetate sitting on the back seat. “Remember when you get in, you have to bow to her. Not a half bow but the full bow, the traditional Korean way, with your hands on your forehead.” I shifted in the passenger seat ufortably. “Then, she’s probably going to ask you questions about your ancestry1, where you went to school, your goals...”
I was meeting John’s mother for the first time this afternoon and he was fervently coaching me on how to make a good impression. “While she’s talking, offer to cut her a piece of fruit from the basket. Cut the fruit in front of her so she can see how well you cut. Get an apple and make sure you peel the skin really thin so that she knows you don’t waste food. And make sure you cut it in even slices and lay it down facing the same direction so she knows you can present food in an appetizing manner...” John continued to lecture as I stared blankly2 out the window.
I had just started dating John, a Korean international student who had been in the States for about 3 years now. I was born in Korea, but I moved to t