I stepped off the plane in Korea on October 18th, 2011. Yesterday was October 18th, one year later. I started working at Wonderland on the 19th. It's time to look back, and to look at how things have changed.
One year ago, I was absolutely terrified. When I got off the plane, I was okay. Finally, my journey alone was over (my FIRST long journey alone, and my first overseas flight since I was 16), and I would be met at the airport and escorted to my hotel. I wasn't worried about translation or navigation, only about impressing my recruiter and my new boss. I was a little worried that I had received instructions to use a pay phone to call my recruiter from the airport when I arrived, and I would have to exchange my currency (never done that on my own), figure out how to use it, and then figure out the pay phone (when was the last time I used a pay phone?). After much confusion and several attempts, I finally made the call. My recruiter gave me garbled instructions on how to catch the bus to Jecheon. He was not going to meet me at the airport, despite his promise that he would. I experienced my first major language barrier, as I struggled to follow his instructions, and my first sense of betrayal - I had been left on my own.
I had a good cry right in the middle of the food court (since I couldn't leave my bags to go to the bathroom, a fact which caused more problems later), then picked myself up, dusted myself off, dried my eyes, and went to buy my ticket. I wandered about for quite awhile with my giant luggage cart before finding the ticket booth. The lady who sold it to me was quite irritated at my inability to count out the correct currency, and I felt both embarrassed and angry. Who expects a foreigner at an airport to know how the currency works? I found that I had missed the first bus and must wait 2 hours for the next one. I would arrive in Jecheon at 11pm. The bus finally came. Rather, 3 buses finally came. Which was the right one? My ticket was almost entirely in Korean, so that was not much help. The bus drivers spoke no English. I saw a girl who looked shy and confused, so I walked over to her and held out my ticket. Hers was the same, and she spoke Korean, so I followed her like a stray puppy. Even when I got on the bus, I was not one hundred percent sure it was the right one. What if I ended up in the middle of nowhere with no phone? I was terrified.
On the bus, I was exhausted, but I was afraid to go to sleep. I had been traveling for over 24 hours, and I was afraid that if I fell asleep, I would sleep so heavily that I would miss my stop. So I stared out the window instead. Everything looked strange. The mountains looked too big, too severe, and vaguely threatening. Large flashy buildings stood in small clusters in the middle of vast farmlands, surrounded by the giant mountains. The neon signs in a strange language just made me feel less at home, more unsure, more lost. I felt like I was in another world, not another country. When the bus made its first stop, I thought at first that it was Jecheon. This is Jecheon?? I didn't realize it would be so small. Oh. It's a rest stop. Never mind. I didn't know how much time we had at the stop, so even though I desperately needed to use the restroom, I sat on the bus with my legs crossed, afraid of taking too long and being left behind.
Finally, I arrived in Jecheon. I knew it was Jecheon this time, because I had sat up straight when the bus slowed down, intently searching the road signs. Thankfully, Korean road signs always have English. The bosses, Sam and Dean, as well as the recruiter who had failed to meet me earlier, met me as soon as I got off the bus and took me to my hotel. They took my suitcases and talked to me, and finally I felt a little less alone. When I got to my hotel room, I started to step in, but they laughed and told me to take off my shoes first. They showed me how to use the remote control for the TV, and how to turn the lights on and off, but I forgot all that as soon as they left and had to figure it out again later. The room was too hot, and I never figured out how to fix that. I still felt so very alone and scared. Korea was so strange, and all I wanted was to close my eyes for a minute, open them, and find myself in Macon again.
As you may remember from my first blog post in Korea, I felt much better the next morning. Everything was still strange and I was afraid to venture out into the street because everybody stared, but I was more optimistic. But nothing became more normal during my first month there. Everything smelled strange. The weather was strange, changing so quickly throughout the day. The food was strange. The restaurants were, well, scary. And I had very little money. I spent the first three days in my hotel living off the one bucket of fried chicken my boss had helped me order. It was better when I moved into my apartment, but I still lived entirely on school lunches, fried dumplings, frozen pork cutlet I cooked in my broken toaster oven (disgusting, by the way), really disgusting hot dogs, and a few mushrooms. That first month, I was often miserable and scared, and yet I still felt that I was doing quite well, considering the circumstances. I went to school, I did my work, I found food, I survived. Occasionally, I took a walk. I had made it into the country, and I made it through my first month.
Everything is different now. The strange smells are mostly gone. When I do catch a whiff of something odd, it still doesn't seem entirely out of place. The mountains are friendly now, not threatening. The clusters of buildings in the middle of farmlands are comforting when I'm coming back from Seoul - it means I'm closer to home. Because my home is in Korea. It's only temporary, and I can't speak the language, so I still run into awkward situations and I'm still occasionally nervous, but it's home nonetheless. I eat well, sleep well, work well, and live well. I have routines. I have an ordinary life. Go to work, make money, eat dinner, do something fun, sleep. On the weekends, I relax or take small trips. When I can, I go to church. Everything is normal. And that's the wonderful thing about living in another country. It changed my perception. Having homes on opposite sides of the world changed what I classify as "normal." Korean signs are normal. Korean soup is normal. Korean faces are normal. Speaking Korean is normal.
I am so glad I came here. I am also so glad that I was so terrified when I arrived. I have felt safer living here than anywhere else I've ever lived, and I'm thankful for the opportunity to adapt. People are friendly, and life is good. Korea hasn't changed, but I have.
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