The day I got off the bus in Gwangju to spend a year (or more) living and teaching in Korea, I was greeted by a young, simple and sweet Korean woman who was to be my main co-teacher. It was her job to help me adjust and get the things I needed to settle in to living in a whole new world.
"You need stay for lunch?"
"Whatever you want to do."
"Ok, let's go then."
"Sounds good."
Before we could leave and embark on our day of tedious errands, shopping, and utility hook-ups, we were caught by the Head of the Gwangju Department of Education who requested we stay for the lunch. So we did. At this point I was a week into Korean cafeteria food and post-tiring-bus ride to boot, I wasn't amused. It being a Saturday, in addition to the baby seat I saw in the car when she brought it around, I was betting my money she wasn't either. But we made due. And polite conversation. The most notable thing being her comment about my use of chopsticks. The second, that we were born in the same year. Trying to make a comforting and therefore humorous remark, I was quick to point out that I was a few months older. First case of Silly-American-Fever, forgetting that in Korea, being older than someone determines the relationship forever.
After the ceremonial tea, we hurried off to get my bags and headed straight for the campus residence office. I felt like I was a college freshman all over again. They gave me a passcode, took my fingerprint, and gave me the keys to my new home. Only, I couldn't read the directions for the ethernet, the heat, or the process for paying for them.
The last bullet on our To-Do List for the day was E-Mart, for getting all the things I needed to settle in. Think Wal-Mart on a Sunday, only with carts in which the wheels roll 360 degrees, in a culture where it is unheard of to say "excuse me." Not because they're impolite or don't bump each other. They simply don't.
Towels and sheets. A pot and pan. All that. Trying to explain how my casein allergy isn't a lactose intolerance, and how I don't like white bread as we walked the homogenous isles of bouncy white loaves, even in its severe lack of effort made my brain foggy. I threw a loaf in the cart to end the conversation.
But something malfunctioned when we got to toilet paper. Everything was in bulk--24-48 rolls, so she thew in a 24. I rounded the display 8 times looking for an 8-roll. I had never purchased a 24 pack before and something was preventing me from thinking it was ok. I had already thrown in the 3-pack of humongous bottles of shampoo and conditioner with ease.
"You really don't want to buy that?"
In my head I wanted to blow up, taking my exhaustion and frustration out on this poor woman--single people don't buy bulk; we buy as little as possible. And 24 rolls of toilet paper? That's like telling me I'm going to be here forever.
"Okay, you're right," I said politely, knowing when I got home, my inner drama-queen would still be cursing under her breath.
However, the 24 rolls of toilet paper ran out last weekend (I've been using paper towels for 2 days). I've been in Korea for 4 months. Since then, most importantly, I've slept off most of my stress. I've slept a lot (even on these firm beds). I had forgotten what that was like. Though it's not as glorious as it sounds, mostly because I'm a soft-bed sleeper. When I say the beds here are firm, I don't mean turn the knob on your sleep number mattress to 0; I mean flat board. But it's sleep nonetheless.
Paid off 2.5 credit cards too. One batting cage conquered in the same day as a luxury norebang. One serious relationship with bibimbap and ssamjang sauce. A mutual breakup with most western foods out of sheer logistical problems, but tbc later. Some great friends. Cross-country trains and buses. Live-octopus. Month 1 of Insanity (to counteract the first 2 months of non-stop eating). I'm on to congugating verbs in Korean and I can yell "shut up" at my students (which a co-teacher taught me, thank you very much). Not to mention the feat of getting a taxi driver to my treasure island of a building, without sticking my hands in his line of sight. And another published article in Jealous. Oh, and my first spring with yellow dust and nuclear showers.
I think I was right--sounds like forever to me--subjective opinion notwithstanding. Either way, sounds like Operation Clean-Up-Jen-Fong is on the right track.
Though I feel I must say, the thing that's happened in the U.S. since my departure that has me golf-clapping is this woman running for president:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZxQZMSl-o0&feature=related
Ok, that AND And Justin Bieber's new haircut.
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