I recently took a trip to Busan with my sister, and the fish market was my absolute favorite part of the excursion. Here's roughly how the fish market thing works:

When you walk into the massive building, you'll see scores of vendors trying to slang their catch to you for cheap. They're not aggressive or pestering; some of them can speak-a-da English fairly well and are open to haggling. They'll be delighted to see your foreign face. (Continued...)

Korea isn’t exactly crime-free, but it’s really safe. There has never been a time when I’ve felt in danger (excluding taxi rides) or like I should get out of dodge to avoid trouble. (I bet Koreans think I’m the most dangerous thing on the streets at night.) Basically, Korea is a place so orderly that it will probably bore a thrill-seeker (or a South African).

English taken too far out of the hands of native speakers ceases to remain the language I know and love; it instead becomes something else. (Engrish, perhaps?)

Here are some examples of English transmogrified in non-native settings:

During class, one of my students pointed this toy crossbow directly at my eye at point-blank range. I'm sure he meant well with this warm gesture of marksmanship, but I necessarily confiscated his toy anyway.

I'm not sure about other teachers out there, but I've seen an panoply of impressive arms born by my students, particularly the boys. My boys have brought in BB guns, arm-length toy M16 rifles and even tree branches sharpened and carved into the shape of a machine gun.

Sun -- by Choi Hyeon Hui

"I want to go Sun.

Because sun is hot. We don’t pay money to do sauna.

I’ll go to sun. I’ll roast pork.

Sun don’t live an animate.

If I go to sun and playground.. No one obstruct me.

I’m flee without want to go sun."