Bleach and a Bucket

Dear Family,

Today was a long one. After church this morning, I headed over to my apartment, armed with bleach and a bucket. I was amazed at how much dirtier the place was that I had supposed. It seemed like the longer I scrubbed, the dirtier it got, until my fingers were raw and I completely wore a hole through one of the rags I was using.
Several grueling hours into the afternoon, a little old man stepped through the door, "Hangungmal issayo? Do you speak Korean?"
"Only a little." I replied.
"It's okay, I speak English." He introduced himself as my landlady's brother-in-law, and informed me that he had come to fix the toilet.
While he replaced all the toilet parts, inside and out, we chatted. I was glad for the brake, and he was happy to practice his English while spinning stories of his adventurous younger years.
My landlady, a little, eighty year old ajumah, came by a few minutes later to see how I was progressing with my work. She nodded, smiled, and jabbered away in Korean. I regularly inserted a comprehensive, 'Nae' at what I hopped were appropriate intervals. She seemed satisfied, and soon tottered away only to return a few minutes later with a vitamin yogurt drink for me. I laughed, thanked her kindly, and went back to work.
Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to finish the kitchen and the bathroom, and then I'll be ready to move in. Yay!

I don't have time to write more, but know that you're loved,
Elisabeth