*Two months
There’s an old expression that says “ No matter where you go, there you are.” I had every intention of publishing the first post on my blog within the first month. Before I left the U.S., I told myself I would be consistent about my writing despite never having maintained a journaling habit. Of course, this time would be different. But here I am. Two months later and finally my first post. Turns out that moving across the world and drastically changing your life doesn’t immediately change who you are and your habits. In all fairness to myself, I did start writing this blog a month ago.
Most people who have lived abroad before or even moved somewhere far away will tell you the same thing, “The first month is the hardest.” And here I am, one month into living in Korea and I can say it has not been easy. Not that I expected it to be, but knowing that something will be difficult and facing said difficulties are two separate things.
When I arrived in Seoul, I was surprised at my lack of anxiety. But I was also disappointed in what seemed to be a lessened feeling of excitement. I wrote in my journal as the plane began its descent “Perhaps the excitement feels dulled because excitement is often amplified by anxiety. That heart-pounding, breath-catching feeling isn’t there right now. I feel ready for whatever is to come. I feel an opening in my chest, a loosening. This is excitement too. Perhaps a more well-adjusted experience of it. A readiness, a calm. The moment I have been anticipating is finally here. A small part of me can’t quite believe that this is real. I’m halfway across the world, alone but not afraid.”
My first week in Korea was spent at Jeonju University for the English Program in Korea (EPIK) orientation. There I met the others who are teaching here in Busan as well as many teachers placed across the country. We attended many lectures and were given a crash course on school life, Korean culture, and many resources on lesson planning and pedagogy. We also got to see a performance by the Jeonju Taekwondo Team who appeared on Britain’s Got Talent and later they gave us a Taekwondo introductory lesson. Later in the week, we took a field trip to Jeonju Hanok Village where we saw traditional Korean-style homes (called hanoks) and ate bibimbap for lunch. A group of us visited the cultural center and painted paper fans in traditional patterns. They came in handy later since the weather was sweltering.
When orientation ended, it was slightly bittersweet. I was excited to get to Busan and see where I would be living and working for the next year. But I was also sad to say goodbye to many of the new friends I had just made. I also knew that while a lot of the friends I met were also coming to Busan, it would be different once we were all living in our own apartments. Would I be lonely? What if I didn’t like my school? My apartment? My co-teachers?
We left Jeonju’s campus at six in the morning. We arrived in Busan at around 10 am. Then the waiting game began as we all waited inside the cafeteria of the Busan Municipal Office of Education for our co-teachers to pick us up. It would be up to our co-teachers’ discretion whether they dropped us off at our apartments first and went straight to our schools for a tour, or (from some people’s horror stories) begin teaching right away. After waiting about twenty minutes, I was among the first to leave. My co-teacher Mrs. Kim came to pick me up along with a man from the administration office who helped put my luggage in the car.
I had looked up my apartment’s address on Naver maps and it looked like a modern and nice building. When we arrived the male teacher dropped us off on the curb and went back to school, leaving Mrs. Kim and I to handle the bags ourselves. Mrs.Kim tried to help me with my luggage, but she is such a small woman I was afraid she would hurt herself trying to pull my large bags. Instead, I ended up with both of my checked bags plus a backpack and purse. I gave her my carry on which still seemed a bit much for her. She started to lead me to the parking garage entrance. I looked down the steep ramp meant for vehicle traffic and asked her if there was not a regular entryway to the building. She said she didn’t know since she had only been there by car before. At my hesitation, she agreed to look for the pedestrian entrance and we dragged my luggage around the side of the building. The door we found required a code which she didn’t know. We went around to the back of the building and she asked the security guard who gave her directions which she apparently found unsatisfactory because we ended up again at the parking garage ramp.
Sweating and out of breath, I had a sudden vision of myself sliding down the ramp luggage in tow. I could’ve cried. Instead, I trudged along behind Mrs. Kim trying to convince myself of what a hilarious story this would all be the next morning. Once she made sure I was in my apartment and that the gas was connected, Mrs.Kim returned to school. She asked if I knew the address of the school and said she would see me tomorrow. When she left, all I wanted to do was collapse into bed. But I had no sheets, the apartment was filthy, I had no cleaning supplies, and I was starving.
Fortunately I found the public transportation system to be easy to manage and made it to a store for the necessities to get me through the first night. Unfortunately, my blanket was still wet from the wash when I wanted to go to bed, so I spent the first night curled underneath my travel towel.
The first two days of work went smoothly. Classes had not yet started back up from the summer holiday so there were no students at school spare the few dozen who attended summer workshops. I had the whole week to lesson plan and settle in. I left school on my second day feeling accomplished with all I had been able to get done. As I walked down the hill from school, I caught the toe of my brand-new loafers on a loose brick in the sidewalk (an unfortunately common issue in Korea). I pitched forward and before I even knew I was falling I was on the ground. I went down hard on my right knee and palm. At first, I was worried that I sprained my ankle, the same one I sprained a few years back. Fortunately, after I dusted myself off my ankle took weight without any issue. I breathed a sigh of relief as the words of the city coordinator ran through my head “Take care of yourselves, stay healthy, you won’t have health insurance for the next two weeks”.
I limped the rest of the way down the hill and sat down on the steps of a closed hair salon to assess the damage. The worst of my injuries ended up being my knee which had split open. I’d also managed to rip a hole in my dress pants and scuff my new shoes. As I tried my best to staunch the bleeding with some gauze from my first aid kit, several Korean people walked past me. I thought for sure one of them would stop to ask me if I was all right and I prepared in my mind how I would try to explain what had happened in my very limited Korean.
But no one stopped. I made brief eye contact with two young men passing by before they quickly averted their gaze and continued on their way. After a few moments, I collected myself and walked towards the bus stop. While waiting at the crosswalk, I saw that bus approaching. I was relieved when the light suddenly changed and the bus stopped at the red light. I hurried across the street and waved at the bus driver to let him know I wanted to get on. He waved back and then drove away as the light turned green, leaving me on the side of the street. In Chicago, I was used to being able to grab the bus at a stop light if it had just left the stop. I guess they don’t do that here in Korea.
Finally, I felt the tears I had been holding back well in my eyes as I walked slowly the four yards to the bus stop. I stepped backward under the awning of a building to collect myself. Two older Korean women approached me. One of them asked in English “Do you work here?” and pointed to the building behind me. I turned around to look. I was standing in front of an English learning academy. Go figure.
She was very interested in what had brought me to Korea and how I was enjoying it so far. I told her I had just arrived so it was still new. She commented on how hot it was, which I felt was on my behalf since I was disheveled and my face was very red. I felt inclined to explain that I had fallen and I was not just a sweaty mess from the five-minute walk to the bus stop.
She and her friend were very concerned about my injuries and both women dug around in their purses for a band-aid. When they both came up empty handed the first woman who had spoken to me offered to run home and get me a bandaid since she lived “just around the corner”. I was very touched by her concern and felt myself relaxing a bit. I thanked her but assured her I would be fine until I got home and that I didn’t want her to miss the bus since she was also waiting.
She told me how she had lived in Australia for 13 years and for the rest of her life she had always lived in Busan. She asked me where I had been so far and what sorts of things I liked to do. I thought to myself how quickly something bad can turn into something good. How nice it would be to know someone in the neighborhood who spoke English so well and knew the area.
Then she asked me, “Have you been to the church down the street from here?” My heart dropped a bit. “No, I haven’t”.
“Oh really? It’s a nice church, very pretty. A lot of people like to visit there. There are a lot of foreigners who go there as well. We -“, She pointed between her friend and herself, “are both members.”
“Oh okay,” I said, lowering my eyes. Her friend pointed to my necklace and asked if it meant something. “Yes, it’s the Star of David. I’m Jewish”
She nodded as if she already knew that and walked a little ways away no longer interested in the conversation. The other woman who had been leading the conversation continued to talk to me, but my answers were short. We were both quiet when the bus arrived. It was very full and we had to stand. When a seat opened up, she was insistent that I sit down although I tried to offer it to her.
I relented and sat, knee throbbing. My eyes felt warm as I stared out the window. It had felt so nice to have someone show me kindness after being ignored. To think that she only approached me as an easy mark to recruit to her church made my stomach churn. I’d heard about the religious cults in Korea and how older people usually women will approach you on the street to get you to join. I felt embarrassed that I hadn’t seen through the approach sooner.
In Korean culture, when someone falls in public or does something else that could be considered embarrassing unless the person is seriously injured, most Koreans will ignore them or actively look away. They do this because culturally drawing more attention to the person by asking if they are okay can be seen as more humiliating for that person. I knew this but still, in pain and alone, I was looking for a bit of sympathy and compassion from the people around me.
So when a stranger had shown the kindness I had been longing for I accepted it readily without my usual level of city life skepticism.
After a few moments of silence, the woman pointed out the baseball stadium from the window. She told me I should try to go to a game when I have the chance. She named some restaurants she liked in the area and different foods I should try. She told me to visit other cities as well and where the best beaches were. She said that she hoped I had a good time in Korea and that I found teaching fulfilling. She didn’t mention her church again until it was her stop. Then she pulled out a business card and said “Actually, I am a Jehovah’s Witness and you are welcome to attend our church if you’re ever interested.” I took the card from her and thanked her. As she stepped off the bus and smiled at me, I got the sense that she knew just as well as I did that I would not be stepping foot in her church.
Still I felt that her well wishes for me were genuine. She knew from the moment I said I was Jewish that I would not be going to her church. But she continued to speak with me and give me recommendations. She may have initially approached me with an ulterior motive but I chose to take her kindness at face value.
Since then there have been many moments of culture shock accompanied with moments of happy surprise. I was having some issues with the plumbing in my apartment. The shower was not draining appropriately. When the maintenance man arrived, I was somewhat surprised when he took off his work boots before coming into my apartment. It is common practice here to remove your shoes before entering someone’s home but I was still surprised by the consideration. A memory came to mind from college, when I returned to my dorm room after maintenance had been there and I was greeted by the perfect outline of a boot in the middle of my bedspread.
He was only there to fix my shower drain but that night I discovered he had also fixed my leaky shower head without a word. He had to return a second time to finish the work and he replaced my kitchen sink drain and tightened my toilet seat. Both repairs were issues he had noticed without me asking for him to fix them. I was genuinely touched that he went beyond the work he had been asked to do and even made repairs I didn’t realize were needed. In my old apartment in Chicago, I had to call maintenance several times to fix the same issue and he would always try to convince me there wasn’t a problem when I knew there was. This was a new experience for me.
I still get surprised when people don’t hold the door open for others, when everyone pushes their way to the front of lines, when someone sneezes and no one says bless you, and when someone bumps into me and doesn’t stop to apologize.
Every time I leave my apartment people stare at me. As a blonde-haired blue-eyed American, I stand out. Some people just glance, but some (especially older folks) stare…hard. It can be a bit uncomfortable but I know that for most Koreans it is just curiosity.
I have also never been called beautiful so many times in my life. Strangers, on the street, in the subway, and in line at the grocery store, will stop me to tell me how beautiful I am. Sometimes in English, sometimes in Korean, and sometimes in both. It’s flattering and a little bizarre.
Another culture shock: food that should be salty is sweet. Sandwiches with meat and cheese or eggs are often served on sweet bread or with sweetened mayonnaise. Potato chips are sugary. The red sauce on pizza can be sweet too. The most shocking for me was the garlic bread. It was salty and garlicky, but the butter tasted like frosting! It was sweeter than most desserts. It seems that Koreans think that Western food must be sweet. They even roll corn dogs in sugar. Funnily, desserts and baked goods tend to be on the less sweet side. Cherry tomatoes are served as fruit here so you can find them in fruit salads and even on cakes.
Like the food, my time in Korea has been full of both salty and sweet surprises. I have already experienced so much in such a short amount of time. Even the not-so-good experiences have taught me a lot about the culture. Every challenge is another opportunity to show myself how capable I am. I want to experience everything I can while I am here. I am looking forward to all the surprises that this year holds.