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):

Today is a beautiful BEAUTIFUL day in Korea and there is no sunshine poking through the clouds. What makes it beautiful is the utter lack of humidity. I can bravely go out into the world today and know that I won’t melt into a puddle of sweat and makeup before I even get to the bus station. That being said, temperature wise, it’s not that hot here. Unless the sun is out. The sun and humidity together mix to create a Florida-type climate which I am just not about.

This is my first post in Korea and I’ve been here for about a week and a half. Sorry I’m not sorry. I’ve been busy taking classes, making friends, tripping over the language and trying to find my way around. After our 8-9 day orientation I came down to Gwangju, where I will be living and teaching for the next year. I’m happy to finally be settled into a place I can call home, even if I occasionally forget that this “home” is on the opposite side of the planet to the place I grew up. You would be surprised how often I forget I’m in Korea. I’m reminded quickly when I step out of my apartment and am hit with sights, smells, languages and writing that still seem pretty foreign. I am grateful, however, that I’ve had previous experiences with squatter potties. At least that part seems a bit old hat.

Anyway….ORIENTATION. So after a really really really long journey I arrived at orientation. I flew from Newark to Chicago, had a 4 hour layover, and then flew from Chicago to Seoul. Thank God I met Jasmine in Chicago. I suppose she was my friend friend in Korea, even if we met in Chicago. Unfortunately, Jasmine is teaching in another city…all the more reason to explore! Here she is:

Ok, so, first came Wheels (Jasmine). Next came Korean immigration, which makes US immigration look like the Israel/Palestine border. When we all got our bags after the 14 hour ride (well, not all of us…Jasmine’s bags were left in San Francisco), we met with our EPIK coordinators at the airport. They checked us in, took videos of us saying “Anneong Hasayo” and “Kamsahamnida” and then loaded us onto a bus to Jeonju University for orientation. Jet-lagged as hell we rolled into a highway rest stop for dinner, and much like deer in the headlights, waited for someone to order (that knew enough Korean) and just threw our fingers up to say two, as in, I want that also but have zero Korean skills. Fact. And it was delicious.  I am beyond happy that I fully enjoy spicy food.

So, once we got to Jeonju we were herded around to sign in, get our temperature checked, pick up some snacks, and sent to our rooms where, for the most part, we crashed. Hard. Here’s the view from my room:

The next couple days included a bit of free time, an opening ceremony and performance, and a welcome dinner. The opening ceremony was really great. Our speaker, Walter Foreman, let us in on some Korean secrets (and some not so secret info) and got us all hyped for the year to come. We also saw a SICK Taekwondo performance and ate a shit ton of kimchi.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVgehNLwZW0&feature=youtu.be

I do have to say, however, the best part of this day was likely meeting Nygel and Lewis who cornered out the square with me and Jasmine. Their bromance is unmatched and our quad-love, though currently fractured, is fo’ life.

Clearly we had a terrible time during orientation. We had a lot of lectures about teaching in Korea and I can honestly say they were all worth listening to and I’ve come out of orientation feeling exponentially more prepared for teaching in Korea than when I got off the plane. There are also a lot of cultural things we all had to overcome (some of us took more time than others) like, not flushing toilet paper…and seeing the fruits of that labor in the bin next to the toilet; eating rice, salad and kimchi for breakfast; using towels the size of kitchen hand towels for your whole body; Korean sexism, racism and body image/ideal (including short short shorts as highly acceptable while an inch of cleavage makes you a whore, if you’re different, they stare, and they automatically assume black people are from Africa); and the extremes in bathroom use.

It’s time to talk about toilets. In Korea, there are three toilet paper scenarios that can play out at any given time. It doesn’t matter where you are, I found each of these in the University we were staying at for orientation. 1. Toilet paper in the stall with you like in the states. 2. Toilet paper outside the stall. You need to take it in with you. Or, 3. No toilet paper at all in the bathroom. Always come prepared. Also, the disparity in toilets is insane. Again, just talking about Jeonju University, I came in contact with a classic Asian squatter, with no toilet paper, and just a bin; and I also had experiences (many) where the toilet was so high-tech I didn’t even know how to flush it. Not to mention that at some point someone tried to figure out what all the little buttons mean and turned on the seat warmer. Nice for them, not so nice for the person (me) who came to an empty bathroom and had a very warm toilet seat. Yuck. So, that’s what you have to look forward to as far as bathrooms are concerned. Bars can be worse, and just keep in mind you aren’t in Kansas anymore.

A definite highlight of orientation was our Field Trip to Hanuk Village. This village was built by wealthy Koreans who, during the Japanese occupation, didn’t want to live amongst the Japanese that were invading their city. It’s a really cool place filled with awesome food and shops, but it’s really touristy. All the Koreans were walking around with what I like to call “Selfie Sticks” which are just mounts for their smartphones….and they are literally taking selfies and ussies EVERYWHERE. (WordPress, tell me why “selfies” isn’t marked with a red line and “ussies” is?) At Hanuk Village we had a lot of free time to explore:

We found Korean Jesus…and DAMN were a lot of selfies on sticks happening by this cathedral.

We had some traditional and world-renowned Korean food called Bibimbap…with all the sides included, of course.

We hung out with our class leaders, Joy (in her Dodgers hat) and Dahlia, who were awesome.

And we made stupid faces alllllll over the place, just eating and hanging out.

The most cultural experience we had, however, was when we split up for traditional Korean papercraft, Korean drum lessons, and Korean mask dancing. We all made paper fans…which would have been way more clutch earlier in the day when all of us were sweating profusely.

My group played the drums, while their group did the mask dance. Here we are listening intently and not so intently:

And here’s an example of what these guys can do:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUKIdgCascs&feature=youtu.be

All in all it was a great day with a lot of good times. The only thing we really had to worry about after that was our lesson demonstrations with the group they picked at random. Everyone here knows how I felt about one of my group members in particular. She’s not in Korea to make friends with expats and she made that crystal clear. I’ve never felt so grateful to be white. Anyway, yeah. We gave our lessons on Tuesday, got our certificate of completion, and were also given the results of the medical check we took last week. This included height, weight, eyes, ears, blood, chest x-rax, and urinalysis. We ALL passed…and the auditorium erupted in applause. Says a lot, no?

That night we went out and celebrated with beer, norebang (karaoke) and soju after our farewell feast (which was absolutely incredible).

Wednesday I made my way to Gwangju by bus with all the people joining me in this wonderful city. We awkwardly sat down next to our new co-teachers and listened to their meeting in Korean. My co-teachers are awesome and there is sooo much more to learn about them and about my schools because I don’t actually have to be there for work teaching until Monday. I’m lucky like that.

I’m also lucky because the guy I’m replacing, Alex, kept the apartment I’ve inherited in good shape, and left me lots of stuff I might need. He’s also still in the city so along with his friend Jenn and the girl who replaced her, Tessa, we went out for some amazing Korean BBQ downtown, and they gave us an overview of some of the expat bars we will soon be familiar with.

And so the adventure begins. A long post, I know; hopefully I won’t wait so long between them next time. If you want my address to send me mail or a package (different addresses) please let me know. I will never turn away a little slice of home!

It’s important for me to post now, at the peak of my crisis. Some of you think I have my life together and all my ducks in a row, which makes me laugh. I’m as dysfunctional as the next 20-something, I just do things a little differently. For example, I’ve spent the last 48 hours (emphasizing the last 10) almost numb from the tornado of emotions I’ve been feeling. I’m overwhelmed to say the least. And here I sit, in Newark Liberty International Airport, convincing myself to follow my feet. It’s time to shit or get off the pot–and boys and girls, this is the biggest dump I’ve ever taken.
Leaving my friends and family behind is hard enough, but watching my mom cry as I left nearly broke my heart. I’m a big girl, but I love my mommy…and I needed comfort so badly that my teddy bear is making the journey with me. This is everything I’ve wanted for a while now. I’ve had to make sacrifice after sacrifice to get where I am now and here I am, freaking the fuck out. I guess my point here is that just because you’re scared or nervous or second guessing yourself doesn’t mean that it isn’t the right thing. When you were more lucid and thinking clearly, this was what you wanted. Your mind will jump into survival mode and play tricks on your wants and needs. Be confident in your choices because you made them for a reason.

It’s so hard to take your own advice.

At some point the tears are going to have to run out or I’m going to give up on the second guessing and nerves because the ball is rolling, the contract is signed and I’m about to board a plane. Fear will subside and a sense of adventure will settle in. Nerves will turn to wanderlust and fear will become excitement. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t praying that switch comes soon.

Waiting is always the hardest part and the wait is finally over.

I wouldn’t be able to leave my last post in good faith without adding a few things I’ve missed. Many, many people–affiliate of this particular group or not–have approached me for what I’ve written. I stand by every word, however, I need you all to realize that this sentiment is not all-encompassing. In every group of people there are some misguided souls and bad seeds, but quite often those people are the minority. This is no different. Many (MANY) of the people in this particular group at Silver Bay have become friends whose hearts, thoughts and friendship matter deeply to me. These are people who give themselves for others, who do all they can to make other people feel loved, even when they are in need of loving themselves.

It  pains me to know that I’ve hurt these people by my words on here. I’m simply trying to understand some of the rules and practices that sound just so wrong to me, and I’m venting about things I’ve felt have changed. I KNOW that those of you I’ve let into my life and have reciprocated love for would NEVER judge me, my choices, or push your beliefs onto me. But you know that there are some people in your group, some bad seeds, that muddy the beautiful image you represent for your group. I want you all to know that as individuals, you are strong, good-willed, beautiful human beings and I cherish our friendship. Unfortunately, when writing about a group, quite often a sweeping generalization is the more respectable way to go about starting the conversation. Pointing fingers publicly isn’t my style. If you want a play by play of the good, bad and ugly, I’ll be in-country for a week and a half. Please come find me.

I hope those of you who are part of this group, who I love and respect, can respect the fact that I’m standing by what I’ve said. I never intended to hurt anyone I love, but these are MY beliefs, thoughts and questions, and I need you to respect them as I do yours. I apologize if what was said implied that I didn’t respect you, your choices or beliefs; that was certainly not my intent. But maybe, if you can just try to see it from my side, maybe you can help reel those rogue souls in. I would hate to see a group of wonderful humans vanish from campus because of a few (honestly, it’s mostly men) who make people outside that group feel judged and uncomfortable. Maybe, instead of focusing on the rest of the world, the judgement and conversation should be turned inward to this group. Even just one conversation can be an eye-opener.

I am a sinner, yes, but I am not a sin. I honestly couldn’t care less what most people think of me. I got over that shit a long time ago. But for the people that DO care and who ARE spiritual and religious, outside this group, think about how they feel being told that they’re wrong and they’re going to hell…even if their church tells them different. I implore EVERYONE in ALL situations to play devil’s advocate and look at issues from all sides, including (and especially) the ones you staunchly disagree with.

In closing, some of the best friends I’ve made this summer are part of this group or are otherwise deeply spiritual and I do not mean to imply that they are the “problem” here. They are beautiful human beings who have taught me so much, who I am lucky to know. I love you beautiful people and I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you.

The goodbyes have already begun. And I think today I’ve already cried five times. It’s only going to get worse and I know that. I kind of feel bad for the people that will be around me for the next 23 days (HOLY SHIT 23 DAYS) because I’m going to rollercoaster through all the feels. The excitement, nervousness, sadness, anxiety, and all the different ways I can express the love I have for all I’m about to do, the support I’ve received and continue to receive, and for all the people I’m going to miss like crazy.

If I’m being honest, I’ve never left Silver Bay with dry eyes. I feel closest to my father on this campus and each time I drive away I leave a little part of me here. This time the tears are starting even earlier than I wanted them to, but I can’t (and won’t) lie about how I’m feeling. In 23 days I will be on a plane bound for Seoul. From there I’ll travel South to my orientation where I’ll be for a week+ and then I’ll settle into my apartment in Gwangju. In moments like these, where I’m happy with my friends and feeling an overwhelming sense of “home”, I question my motivation for leaving. But if I’m being really, truly honest, this amazing sense of home wouldn’t have happened without my decision to leave.

Had I not traveled to China, met amazing people, quit my job, made some really tough decisions and been brave enough to fly solo a while, I wouldn’t be at the bay right now. I wouldn’t have met these incredible people I can now call my friends, and will hopefully, one day, call my family. Yeah, ok, leaving people you love is hard. Obviously. But without moving in the direction my heart has called I would never had the chance to love these beautiful humans. With all of our imperfections and fucked up-ness. Our outbursts and mood swings. Our quirks and all the perfectly incredible flaws that fit together like a big human puzzle. The thought of this wonderful chapter of my life closing is overwhelming and almost too much to bear, but I know that I’m better off having come here, making the connections I have, and leaving with those people in my heart and mind than if I’d never come at all.

I’m going to miss the late night/early morning turnovers, the smell of Spengler, the stars at night, the spiders that are literally everywhere, my gross bug bites, night swimming (both clothed and unclothed), the fear I feel walking past Hebron and Paine Hall, the often gut-wrenching meals, the comfort of being in sweats (for my job) and without makeup everyday, and so much more. I’m going to miss breathing this Adirondack mountain air so deep that it triggers memories of my dad and I when I was younger. Fuck, man. I’m gonna miss it all. Bring on the waterworks.