Sometimes I think that being far away is really easy. The day to day bullshit at home is so far from your mind that it is completely irrelevant. The traffic, shitty service, annoying conversations, and other trivial day to day annoyances don’t matter at all. The thing that lingers and remains so strong is the love you have for the people you left behind. The annoying ones that keep you waiting and make you so angry you could scream. These are the faces that quite literally warm your heart. They get you. They get at you. They get underneath you in all sorts of really uncomfortable ways, and that’s how you know they matter a hell of a lot.

This is also the hardest part about being away. Stranded on the opposite side of the world I can’t help but think about those people, their lives going on completely, easily and the same without me. Life goes on. And as comforting as it is to know that I can move away and still maintain very strong relationships with the people that matter, sometimes it feels like I don’t matter at all. I know that’s silly and completely untrue, but in the same way I won’t cry for them every night, their lives go on without me. I miss a lot when I’m 10,000 miles away. They’re missing out on everything in my life, too. But when the language barrier gets to you, and the food just doesn’t taste right, and you’re sick and achy and need to cuddle with someone who knows you and they’re not there, you feel alone. At least I do.

I have incredible friends here already. But they don’t know a lot about me. They don’t know why I cry when I hear “Brown Eyed Girl” and they don’t understand my personal relationships. They see pictures and hear stories, but that’s all they are. And that’s all Korea will be to my family at home. Pictures and stories. I made this decision and I truly believe it was the right one. I am put in my place on the daily here and a slap of reality isn’t really ever a bad thing. But this is my life. It is fragmented in pictures and stories to everyone else, but it is all I am. These pictures and stories are WHO I am. And when I’m 10,000 miles away wanting nothing but to hear from the people or person I love most and I don’t or can’t, it’s the worst pain in the world. Holding back an “I love you” or being “too busy” to answer equal a fractured heart. And it makes me feel alone.

It’s all about perspective and I know many of those at home have no idea what I’m going through…and to be fair, I haven’t really talked about it. But here I am. I’m talking about it. I miss you when I’m gone and whether it’s a time difference or apathy or just not really thinking about it, when I can’t tell the people I love that I love them and hear it back, it hurts my heart.

I’m not exactly sitting back every day crying, but the tears do come, and the people I care about most know that I care about them an incredible amount. You are the ones I need. You are the ones that get under my skin, piss me off, make me cry, and make me miss you more than anything in this world. Homesickness isn’t a need for an omelette or fajitas (though both of those things would be nice), it’s the way being without your loved ones makes you feel. Abandoned, forgotten, alone. And the worst part is that this is a choice I’ve made for myself. I’m here because I fought really fucking hard to be in this position. And I’m happy I’m here. I’m guessing that won’t make much sense to a lot of people, but it’s the truth. And the truth, like most beautiful things in this life, is complicated.

Just know that I love you and hearing that, or reading a message from you late night, or getting a note in the mail that barely says anything, is the most meaningful thing I could ever ask for. It reminds me that I’m gone, but not forgotten. That I’m here alone but I’m always loved. Many of you understand this, but I guess I’m writing for the people who can’t. And for myself. I’m writing this for myself, too. I am proud of myself, and I second-guess things every day. Complacency is evil and I would rather struggle every day than be complacent and jaded. I’m reminded, on my own, every minute of every day, just how important the people I love are to me. And I’m so grateful for you all, my massive, fucked up, motley crew of friends and family. To you I’m sending much love from Korea, today and every day.

So, true life I live in South Korea. At no point has this been more obvious to me than earlier today when I needed to go to the hospital. I woke up pretty confident that strep throat was attempting an invasion and a friend of mine told me I needed more than the Pharmacy…I needed the hospital. So after every person I spoke to (intake, nurses, doctor, payment and pharmacy) scoffed at the fact that I would DARE go into a hospital without any Korean language comprehension, I was sent on my merry way. They took issue with the language, but Americans would have kicked me out and called me a dirty foreigner soooo I’ll take it. Within 20 minutes I was signed in (with my passport), checked for temperature and blood pressure, visited by, spoken to and diagnosed by the doctor, and paid in full. The pharmacy was right outside the exit door of the hospital–it was set up so you enter in one door, come around and exit by payment and the pharmacy–and even that took all of 5 minutes. They warned me that, because I don’t have health insurance (I haven’t received my Alien Registration Card yet) that my care and medication would be “very expensive”. Knowing that the doc gave me an antibiotic, a pain killer, a GI tract protector and something else, I was kind of nervous. After all, I grew up in America. BUT, a whopping $35 later, I was settled up with the hospital AND with the pharmacy. UN-FUCKING-REAL. This country is bomb.

So, it’s unfortunate that within my first month I required medical attention, but I’m so happy to know how quick, easy and painless it is to get care. Not everything in Korea is that quick, easy and painless…mostly my sense of smell is suffering…but I’m glad that at least one thing is pretty spot on. As far as the rest of it, living in Korea so far has been…an experience. The best of times, some hard times, some weird times, but overall a great time. The patriarchy is strong with this one and I am not a fan, but I will say that I’ve yet to come across a genuinely mean person. Just about everyone here will go out of their way to help you…and I mean FAR out of their way.

So, I’ve never been a teacher before which makes this whole thing even more daunting. It’s a lot easier than I’d expected, even though I have two schools, four grades, four textbooks, three co-teachers and more than 100 students. The kids are kind of awesome. Some of them suck, but I blame that on hormones…damn sixth graders. Sixth is the oldest grade I teach, it’s considered elementary school here, and actually some of them are my favorites. The sixth grade boys at Sansu Elementary are charmers. And the sixth grade boys at Punghyang are punks. But I love them all the same. Something my western friends would find interesting/odd is that friends of the same gender tend to hold hands and match their clothes. As do girlfriends and boyfriends. Koreans love to touch you, but hugging is considered very invasive and it makes them visibly uncomfortable.

My co-teachers are pretty cool. They’re all very different, but they’re young and fun to be around. Walking around town and around school has taught me a lot about Korean social norms and fashion. For instance, you can wear short SHORT shorts, skirts or dresses, but if your neckline drops below your clavicle, or if your shoulders are showing, you’re basically a whore. The hemlines, even in school, push my western upbringing to the edge at times. It all takes a bit of getting used to. There are a lot of really funny miscommunications and interactions with Koreans that just make me laugh awkwardly.

Here’s a small guide to live in Korea, but mostly in Gwangju:
1. More things than you would expect will smell like shit. Feces. Poop. It’s gross.
2. Ajumas rule life. You will be pushed out of the way, made to get up, forced to buy items put in your grocery cart, and laughing hysterically with the old women of Korea. Every interaction just makes me love them even more.
3. Busses give zero fucks. ZERO. Hold on tight and get the hell out of the way.
4. Food is awesome. Eat it. Don’t be a baby, spicy is good for you.
5. Soju, THE liquor of Korea, is sold three times more than any other alcohol IN THE WORLD and it’s basically only sold here. The average person drinks 90 bottles a year. Oh, and it’s cheaper than water.
6. Wine in Korea is expensive, but Makgeolli, Korean rice wine, is cheap and tolerable.
7. Anything that says its Mexican food is lying. They can’t. They won’t. It’s impossible. At least in Gwangju.
8. Fashion is everything. If you peak a mountain hiking wearing the wrong clothes, Koreans will legitimately be confused as to why you’re there. Maybe you’re exercising?
9. Hiking is abundant and incredible. The country is incredibly mountainous and there is no shortage of peaks to climb.
10. If there’s something you want, you can probably find it. Except for shoes above size 8. They didn’t lie about that. That shit is real.
11. No shoes allowed. Anywhere. Not in houses, not in restaurants, and not in schools.

We are just finishing a five-day weekend for the Korean holiday Chuseok. It’s their harvest festival, which is likened to America’s thanksgiving…though I think Koreans have a more respectful and rich history than we do for the namesake holiday. Here’s a bit about Chuseok if you’re interested:

I’ve seen kids and adults dressed in traditional clothing for days now. It’s kind of awesome that these old traditions remain the norm. And I really appreciate three days off.

As for where I live, I’m still getting the hang of how it all fits together. Recycling is law here. And they’re serious about their trash. I’m legitimately terrified to be yelled at in Korean about my trash and/or recycling. You are to separate everything for recycling…and just about everything is recyclable. Even food waste is disposed of separately. Each district even has their own colored bags for trash disposal so it’s obvious where you are and what’s inside. However, most of that trash is just piled on the street or near a telephone poll. I’ve never seen anyone pick it up, but I’ve never seen it accumulate to anything noticeable either.

I live on the third floor of a four-floor building. In Korea there are key pads on the doors to your apartment to get in. No keys. And no keys required to get into the building either. Just about everywhere you go, you are required to remove your shoes, so each apartment has a landing just for shoe removal, and usually a little closet or cubbies to store the shoes. I have a small studio apartment with a separate kitchen that includes a washer, fridge, sink, cabinets, and two burners. No stove. Showers are taken in the space of the bathroom. My shower head hangs on the wall just above the sink, so I couldn’t just relax under it if I tried. Even if I didn’t care about soaking my ENTIRE bathroom. It’s alright though. For now. I might have a change in attitude come winter. But all in all, things are pretty great. No complaints here. I’ve made some great friends and have already had a lot of fun times. Stay tuned for a video and post about our adventure to Myeongsasimni Beach on Sinji island! If you’re interested, check out my apartment here (and thoroughly enjoy the cheesy music):