The cool weather of spring has fought a mythical fight this year, persistently re-asserting itself against the inevitable oppressiveness of the summer heat. But now in early June, we must admit that the battle is lost. Last week I changed my closets from winter clothes to summer clothes, and this morning it was 24 degrees at 8am.

As I stare into my closet, I wonder if it is time for shorts. I don't have class today. A well appointed week with classes only on Monday, Wednesday and Friday– I will be in my office alone all day. Maybe I will meet one grad student, but I shouldn't see too many people.

The math department in any university dresses less formally than any other department. Very few suits. Business and Law schools have the most suits.

Actually, I am just guessing this; I have no hard numbers. The Law department is across campus from us, and I seldom venture into the less sciency parts of campus during the day.

But it seems reasonable. Certainly it is hard to dress more casually than what I would see in the Math departments in Canada and America. What I can say with some confidence is that engineers and physicists and computer scientists wear more suits than mathematicians. And philosophers wear jackets with elbow patches.

But my point– and I usually have one, though I sometimes like to sneak up on it unseen– is that though many mathematicians would not think twice about wearing shorts, in Korea, I am a bit more careful about it.

After all, I stand out enough. Not just because I'm foreign, but also because I wear Crocs.

Once classes end, I start thinking about wearing shorts, but I don't actually do it until I see other professors wearing them.

I haven't seen it yet this year. So I go to work in jeans and a short sleeved button shirt that is patchy with sweat when I arrive.

When I am walking with Lisa in the summer, I give her one job. "When you see someone looking at the wet patch on my belly, Lisa," I remind her,"I want a loud and sincere sounding 'Sorry for spilling that juice on you, Daddy.' "

But I am on my own as I walk to school today, and so have to hide the sweat I've worked up. I look for a student to yell at for spilling their juice, but none look so easily bullied. As Lucy gets more and more aggressive, I am getting more and more scared of the youth.

I slip into my office without being seen. As I sit here writing this at the end of the day, the temperature has come up to 30 degrees. The air conditioning is on, but I will have to step back out into the heat to get home.

I keep looking out my window, hoping so see Do wearing shorts. He's the most likely to open the season on casual dress. He sweats a lot too, and doesn't care what anyone thinks of him. But perhaps he is away at a conference. I haven't seen him in days.

None of the Kims are so concerned with what people think of them either, but of the three of them, the only on that might wear shorts is Kim Philsu.

As I leave my office for the day, I hear a distinctive "Maa-ku!"

I look back to see Kim Philsu coming down the hall.

"Professor Kim," I say, turning, "You're heading home too?"

That's the greeting in Korea at the end of the day, you ask people if they are going home. Other times in the day, you ask them if they've eaten.

"Maa-ku. When are you going to start wearing shorts? It's getting hot!"

"I can't until you do." I say, "You're older."

"Maa-ku! You're not one of the young professors anymore. You can wear shorts whenever you want. But I can't start wearing shorts before the foreigner does. What would people think?"

"Do you care what people think?" I ask.

He smiles a bit mischievously.

He does but he doesn't. People are multi-faceted. "There are rules here," he says.

It feels like a trick. I'm dubious, and careful.

"Exactly." I say, "There are rules."

"I guess we are all waiting on Professor Do, then." he says, and walks off.