Sometimes I feel sorry for the Chinese detainees. Out of the five in my cell, only one speaks Korean, so the rest can't communicate with anyone without the help of that one person. Unfortunately, that one person is the asshole who takes three showers before lunch, takes the remote and changes the channel whenever the mood strikes him and always watches Korean soap operas, which only he understands since he's only one who speaks Korean. He's very reluctant at the best of times to help is fellow countrymen because he actually thinks of himself as a Korean who just happens to have been born in China. It also reinforces my opinion of him of being an inconsiderate, selfish little prick.
We've changed rooms again, since a lot of the detainees have been sent home, including the Egyptian who won't listen. Now, I'm back in the room I started in with the meditating Chinese man. There's also a different Nigerian, 2 Chinese, a Nepalese, a Uzbekistan, a Vietnamese and young American from Guam. It's quite a mix and for once, English is the majority language instead of Chinese. Only the American and myself don't speak Korean so that's still the lingua-franca.