Buddhas in Jongsil Palace, Seoul Korea.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Shinha Elementary School



My first day of work began only 12 hours after arriving in Icheon.

At 8:10am, Lily picked me up to take me to school, which was sweet of her considering that the walk is only 10 minutes.

Immediately upon arriving at school, I heard the loud morning music that the students are greeted with each day. Just like at any other elementary school, the kids were running around and enjoying their last moments of freedom before the long school day began. Some things are universal.

Lily and I ran into the school administration building, as there is no walking during the workday, just running place to place. I was introduced to the other teachers who happened to be in the staff lounge, as well as the 2 Vice Principals of the school. The school is so large that apparently they need twice the guidance.

Next came meeting the principal,and I was already scared. We knocked on the door, and waited until we heard a grunt from the other side. We walked in to the largest office I'd ever seen, lined with rows and rows of tall, individually potted bamboo and other large plants. At the front of the room was a large desk, flanked by old gorgeous pottery. To the left, was the "conversation" desk with a low chair and second desk, obviously used for more informal meetings. In front of it was a long row of about 20 chairs, 10 on each side, and a long table. My guess is this is where the staff meetings are held?

It was meeting the principal where I saw the cultural differences begin. While the US is subversively patriarchal, Korea is overtly so. Lily spoke in a quieter voice than usual when addressing the principal, and bowed many times before even finishing her sentence. It was clear that this man had a lot of power, money and prestige.

We sat down, and conversed with Lily as the interpreter. Its hard to tell what someone is thinking or feeling when you can't understand the language or the tone. From what I gathered, it seemed the principal was leery of me, when in actuality, he was simply wondering where I was from and what college I attended. Even in another country, when you tell someone that you went to The Evergreen State College, they look at you quizzically.

We talked, all the while the principal speaking to me and I to him, with Lily as the voice. The only other 2 direct questions for me were: How old are you? and Are you single? I kind of did a double-take when he asked these questions, as a superior would never ask such things in our culture.

After this, I was shoved in front of a camera upstairs, and introduced to the ENTIRE school of 1,00 students during morning announcements. Jet lagged and puffy, I did not look like a real teacher I'm sure. Then, Lily and I ran downstairs to the teacher's workroom, where my computer and desk sat waiting for me.

What I found comical, and still do is the fact that South Korea has the largest contract with Microsoft in the world, and is supposed to be the technology capital of the universe, yet I sat down to log onto my computer and it crashed. At that, its running on old Microsoft software that most of us are beyond. About a million times a day, I have to re-start my computer at work and I chuckle/growl at it.

Throughout the day, I sat in the back of Lily's classes trying hard to not let the jet-lag show, and putting on the biggest grin I could. Pretty soon, these kids would be all mine, and I couldn't let it show that I was absolutely terrified.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Leaving and Arriving: Part II

After hopping into the van with a complete stranger who spoke no English, it was all blind faith from that moment on.

I'm sure the driver had seen the look on my face a million times, as he picks up foreigners and new teachers all the time. Wide-eyed and aghast at the new surroundings, I watched as we got closer to Incheon, Ansan and Seoul. Even though I had seen cities, bridges, skyscrapers and cars before, it was like the first time all over again.

Now, reader, let me remind you of an important detail: For 6 months I had been preparing to make this journey across the Pacific and researching every facet of South Korea, and Incheon City. I have never been more prepared for a trip as I am now.

Imagine my sheer panic when my driver flew right on through Incheon City. I felt my jet-lagged heart racing despite my exhaustion, and tried to explain to my driver that I think we missed an exit. This was futile considering the language barrier and the fact that he was the driver from South Korea, not I. Would I tell a neurosurgeon how to do brain surgery though I had never done one? Probably not.

We kept driving and driving, all the while letting me experience the near death moments that occur on a Korean freeway regularly. An hour later, my driver pulled into a dark lot nearby a gas station and a few small shops. He stopped, grabbed his pack of cigarettes and got out. I sat digesting where I was at and what was going on. What was going on??

Finally, the driver explained that I was in fact living in Icheon city, the dark, looming building in front of us was actually my school and we were waiting for my co-teacher to arrive and show me to my new home. OOPS. Oh the difference a letter can make.

My co-teacher, Lily, arrived not long after, and explained in broken English that she was my go-to gal in Korea. Little did I know at the time what a life-line she would become; my only one here.

We drove a short distance up the street to a small dirt road, with broken down cars and old shipping freight containers turned into small shops along side. Just as I thought, "Who could live here?" Lily said, "We are at your apartment." Excuse me????

Just around the corner from the shanty-town, surrounded by urban rice paddies, stood a dark, 3 story building. On one side the rice paddies, and the other a tire warehouse, the building was to become my new home. Lily helped me carry my heavy bags up the 3 flights of stairs, turned left and down the hall. She opened the door and my apartment stood waiting for me, barely vacant from the previous teacher.

Lets put things in perspective a bit. I grew up sailing with my family, and am used to small spaces. I am definitely ok with cozy. I never quite imagined living in something the size of a 3 star hotel room, with 1 star amenities. Immediately in the door stands my small gas range for cooking, no oven. Lily quickly showed me how to turn the gas on and off, while I considered how little it would take to fill this room and blow it to pieces if I wasn't careful.

She then showed me the bathroom. My tired brain took a second to realize that there was no shower, just a nozzle attached to the sink, and the whole bathroom would become the shower when I needed to bathe. Just like using the head on the sailboat, but with more water.

The main room was filled with the bed/futon, which given its immense ratio to the actual room, I wish it were more comfortable. On the far end of the room, was a something I hadn't considered, but is very common among Korean living: a sliding glass door to a small sun room, with more sliding glass to the outside. In this small room is a washing machine and a drying rack. And, a pot for Kimchi. What I didn't realize is how airtight and super efficient this makes the apartment. It was immediately clear that these are smart people, working with what they have.

Lily asked me if I had any questions, then informed me that she would be outside waiting at 8am the next day to show me the way to school. EIGHT A.M??? It was 11pm, and according to my body, I had been awake for almost 2 days.

After Lily left, I sat on my new bed, looking at my surroundings with a disbelief in really being here. I had been telling myself, and everyone else that I was going to do this for months, and I actually followed through. Thats what it feels like.

The time leading up to my departure hadn't been any easier than the leaving itself. Unemployment had left me feeling worthless and without hope for the future, stress and resentment had built to a fever-pitch within, my heart recently broken like it had been so many times before, and uncertainty of where I was going with this thing called life weighed on me greatly. Finally sitting in an empty, sterile room in South Korea was the first time I had a chance to let it all go.

As I laid awake, hearing the new sounds and smelling the new smells, I felt at home in a whole new way: I finally get to start over.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Leaving and Arriving: Part I

Ok, readers, now this blog can start for real.

There wasn't much to say about Korea when I hadn't gotten there yet, but here I am. For those of you that I haven't been able to send personal emails to, I apologize and now can give you the details you've been craving.

The first leg of my sojourn began with Amtrak and a few great friends to see me off. We raced the clock as Starlight Train #62 was the last to leave the station that Friday evening. Arriving just in time for the conductor to do a final boarding call, I dragged my Dad's old Army duffel bag full of my most prized possessions, favorite clothes, a few pounds of locally made soap, and 3 boxes of organic tampons to the door. The rush made my goodbye brief, and I regretted it until I learned that the wagon-train of friends who saw me off ran around the train station building to see my train pull out. Thanks Shaun, Andi and Michelle!

As I sat watching Portland disappear, it struck me that I wasn't coming back. For a while that is. When you're leaving behind everyone and everything you love, even to make your life better, it still hurts like hell. The guy sitting next to me smelled bad as he devoured his nachos and chewed his entire cup of ice, one cube at a time, but I didn't care. I was pretty distracted.

I arrived in Tacoma WA to my ever-patient Dad waiting. My Dad does a lot of waiting. Somewhere in the last month, the floodgates of emotion burst and no matter how hard I try, I just can't stop crying! So, when Dad asked me how it felt to leave Portland, the tears flowed. We went back to my parents house, where my mom lay ill in bed. My only worry about leaving was not what was ahead, but leaving her behind, sick and miserable, unknowing how her wracked body would recover.

I ate my "last meal" of Dad's fusion cooking, did some laundry and went to sleep. I kept waking every hour wondering if I had missed my plane, secretly hoping I did. No such luck.

The next day came, and I made it to the airport in plenty of time after bidding my family, friends, cat and home farewell. My Dad, who is often busy with work, took me and sat with me as I nervously watched the clock. We haven't done a lot of talking in our adult years, but we did that day. I think I learned more about my Dad in those hours than I have in a long time. I'm grateful for that time, it marks a precious place in our lives.

1pm, Saturday March 6th came, and I walked aboard Korean Air Flight #020, and sat in my cramped window seat in the VERY back of the plane. At first I wasn't so keen on sitting way back there, shoved into the wall, but I learned that it was the best place to be. As we took off, I said goodbye to the state I grew up in, and all the mixed emotions I had about that place. Seattle doesn't sit well with me.

The flight turned out to be the smoothest part of this journey thus far. It was beautiful! We flew the northern route which meant I got to see Mt. McKinley/Denali up close, then fly over the Arctic Sea and Russia. I couldn't help but laugh out loud after thinking of Sarah Palin's insistent remark "I can see Russia from my own backyard!" HA! I couldn't even see it after many minutes of flight at 37,000 feet!

I also couldn't help but think of the state of our earth as I flew over the giant ice flows, showing obvious signs of melting and movement. It is Spring, so there is something to be said for some of it, but were all those fissures and ice-filled rivers supposed to be there? Going off to Asia, a dense and overpopulated area of the world, is hard when you consider yourself an environmentalist.

The 10.5 hour flight seemed to go by in a blink. I didn't sleep, I didn't write, I just distracted myself with music and movies. "The Blind Side" was interesting, but really not Oscar worthy if you ask me. Before I knew it, we were flying into Incheon International, where I still had yet to
find out if anyone would be there to pick me up. After 2 hours clearing Customs, I found Dad's old yet trusty duffel bag and walked out of the gate. Among a sea of Korean faces, I found my name on a sign held by a small, smiling man. He didn't speak a word of English, but he grabbed my bags, pointed to the van and off we went to begin a whole new life......

Part II coming soon!

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Heaven will smell like the airport

The big day is finally here!!!

I completed the first leg of my journey today, taking the train to my mom and dad's in tacoma. Inching ever closer to Incheon, tomorrow is the final leap. Woah.

I never expected that I would be this person; daring, bold and adventurous. I always knew I had it in me, but never really figured out how to tap into it. I guess I just needed a good kick in the butt.

It makes me sad to think that I have to leave everyone and everything I know behind to take a step forward, but I know there is a reason for all this. I'm not going to try and figure it out now, but I'll know it when it comes.

The Neko Case album "Middle Cyclone" is so applicable to my life right now, on every level. Leaving, staying, heartbreak, growth, its all there. If you want to know what its like on this end, give it a good listen. I'll leave you with a line from it, and see if its still true once I get to Korea tomorrow. Think it will be just as meaningful then as it is now:

"Yes there are things that I'm still so afraid of, but my courage is roaring like the sound of the sun...and heaven will smell like the airport."

Goodbye Northwest, I'll miss you fiercely.