someone else's apartment

Even though it has all my stuff in it, this apartment doesn't quite feel like home yet. I feel like I'm housesitting, like I'm visiting a friend who happens to never be home when I'm here. It's like someone else lives in this apartment, someone who likes all the same books I do and has a stack of Korean ramen in the pantry. Someone who wears the same size clothes as I do and has a picture my nephew finger-painted. I recognize this stuff, but it doesn't feel mine.

I guess maybe I'm too used to living out of a suitcase. I'm used to borrowed spaces and carefully chosen memories; I'm used to temporary, simple, sparse, uncomplicated.

But here, I have all my stuff. I have clothes I haven't worn in years that I didn't even remember I had. I have an entire fridge to fill with foods I like (even though it currently has only taco shells, colby jack cheese, and chocolate milk). I have pictures on the walls of everything I've ever done that's made me happy. I live here.

Everywhere I've lived in the past two years has felt more like an extended-stay hotel than a home, and I can't seem to wrap my mind around the permanence of this move. I can buy a huge picture of the Brooklyn Bridge if I want to because this living room is mine. I can put a single pan in each cupboard because I don't have enough things to fill an entire kitchen myself. I can get a driver's license with my address on it because this is the only address currently associated with my existence.

I'm still waiting for this all to feel real. Maybe when I start making friends I can invite over, or when something breaks and I have to figure out how to fix it myself. Maybe it'll be when I get a dog that's registered under my name or when I have to argue with the cable company over my bill. I just don't feel like this is my actual life. It feels too grown up, too stable.

I'm not saying I'm unhappy; just baffled. When did I get to be a month away from turning twenty-six? How did I end up with a job that enables me to afford an apartment like this all to myself? Who decided it was a good idea to sell Graeter's at the grocery store when there's no one to monitor my eating habits? I feel like just last week I was trying to understand how my shower worked in a foreign country, and now suddenly, I'm living in a parallel universe where I have a microwave and a lease with only my name on it. 

Sometimes I'm afraid I might wake up and still be heading to work in Cincinnati, my greatest accomplishment being that I memorized the Dewey Decimal System without being asked. If you had asked fifteen-year-old me what I'd be doing in ten years, never in a million years would she have guessed this. I wish I could go back and write her a little note, tell her to hold on tight because life is going to go places she'll never imagine. And one day, she'll be sitting in a little apartment in California, and the only thing she'll know for sure about her life is that it's awfully blessed.

Culture shock

I recently skimmed down my blog, looking at all my most recent posts, and I was a little disappointed. People keep sending me messages about how much they enjoy reading about my adventures and my exciting life, but most of my most recent posts are kind of depressing, or at the very least, really deep and thoughtful. I haven't written about phallic-shaped soap or impromptu adventures in flea markets for a couple of weeks now, and I don't feel like my blog is much "fun" right now. In fact, I'm in the middle of writing a post about how Korea's education system actually makes me miss Dubya's horrendous excuse for a learning plan, and it occurred to me that I might be hitting a bit of culture shock. That's fine; I knew it was coming, and my frustrations with the school definitely count as being "shocked by the culture." But I was reading a friend's blog this afternoon, and she mentioned hitting the negotiation stage of culture shock, and I got confused. A quick search on Wikipedia provided me with something, well, shocking.

There are stages of culture shock.

Like, documented, and stuff.

Like, other people follow the same pattern I'm going through.

(It never ceases to amaze me to discover that I am, in fact, normal.)

I really shouldn't be writing this post right now; I'm supposed to be making lesson plans for a project my kids are doing next week, but I'm so flabbergasted that I had to write about it. I thought culture shock was just that moment when you see a dog wearing boots or cough drops sold as candy, but it turns out it's a whole process! Mind. Blown.

According to Wikipedia, culture shock occurs in four phases:

Honeymoon phase: There's certainly no argument that I experienced this one. From the second I got here, I fell in love with Korea and all its quirks. I loved the over-priced coffee, the smelly and confusing subway, the kimbap... everything. I loved it all, and it loved me. Korea and I seemed made for each other, and it was beautiful.

Negotiation phase: This is when the rose-colored glasses come off and you realize that things aren't the way you're used to. It's when you go to the grocery store and can't find any normal looking eggs or soup without fish parts, and it starts to annoy you. I think I'm hitting this phase, even though it's early (according to wikiwisdom). The school was cute, but now it feels stupid and obnoxious. I'd literally fight someone for access to a Wendy's, and if I accidentally walk into one more of those damn hole-in-the-floor bathrooms, my head might explode.

Adjustment phase: Apparently this is the next one I have to look forward to, and trust me, I am. This is where life starts to feel normal - not over-the-moon exciting, but not pull-my-hair-out frustrating either. I'm just hoping I hit it sooner than six months in; I don't know if I can be grumpy that long.

Mastery phase: I may not be here long enough to actually reach this nirvana-like state, but it's the end goal. It's the phase where you really feel like you belong, like you understand the culture and it understands you and you fit together.

Hopefully my blog posts remain somewhat entertaining as I stumble my way through learning a new culture. You can rest assured I'll document it all - the good and the bad - with astounding exaggeration and as many pictures as I can.

(Random thought: I wonder if marriage follows these same phases? It certainly sounds plausible. Just wait til I get married, folks. The blog's going to be hilarious... and probably the cause of my divorce.)

A little low tonight

I'm a little sad today. Nothing in particular really happened, I suppose. At least not one thing. Maybe it's a lot of things. Maybe it's plain homesickness.

I've made a lot of friends here so far, way more than I expected to have after only one month. When I walk into church, I can say hi to dozens of people, and I know I can call pretty much any of the teachers at my school if I need them (and Tiffany's right downstairs. Hey Tiff!) But today I miss having people who know me. I needed to talk to a girl friend about a kind of tricky situation today, and I had to explain all of the backstory before I could even ask for her advice. I miss having people around who already know my story. I wish I had someone here who knew why I get upset about the things that upset me, or why something can excite me and make me want to throw up at the same time. I have friends here, but I miss my friends, you know?

I'm also getting a little tired of being new. I go to church twice a week, and each of the last eight times I was there, I sat in a different seat and met new people. I like meeting people, I really do, but I just want something to be consistent. I miss having multiple rows of people I recognize in the back corner of the sanctuary, and I miss having the same faces at Bible Study every week. I know I had to start from scratch here, and I know that building relationships takes time. It takes time to become comfortable in a place, and it takes time to have people feel comfortable around you. But I put in that time - four years at the Vineyard - and I was comfortable there. People there knew when my eyes were really crying even though my face was smiling, and people here don't know that. It's no one's fault; the people here are wonderful and friendly and amazing, but we're still getting to know each other. I miss not having to "get to know" people - just knowing them already.

Right now, I mostly miss my college roommates. I miss crawling into bed with, well, any of them, and cuddling until the world stopped being scary. There's too much going on in my head right now, and I just need to hold hands, make popcorn, and figure things out. I'm extremely thankful for skype, and I know any of my girls would hop right online to talk to me if they knew how lonely I am, but I'm afraid this time it might make it worse. It'll just remind me that the closest I can get to any of them is a backlit screen, and that's an awfully depressing thought.

I know I didn't technically talk to anyone by posting this, but I feel a little better now. I'm going to curl up with my stuffed animals and watch Glee for a while... and tomorrow will be another day.

Lolly, Smelly, Mocha, and Tilly - I miss you guys right now. Too much. But you know what? I'm glad I have you to miss in the first place.

No pants

I'm going to apologize in advance; I don't have any pictures for this post. Well, okay, I guess I can give you this one of me and Hana:

Oh, and here's a picture of me trying to eat spaghetti with chop sticks:

Oh, and here's a picture of a women's toilet that's just a hole in the ground:

Satisfied? Great! Let's tell some stories, shall we?

My kiddos aren't allowed to speak Korean in class. They've broken the rule a couple times to teach me words, and I am proud to report that I can now say both "thank you" and "I love you." Problem is, to my English-speaking mind, "kamsahamnida" and "saranghamnida" sound so stinkin' similar that I tend to mix them up. Fortunately, my students are the only ones currently declaring their love to me, and either response is appropriate. The issue arises when someone in a store or restaurant hands me something and I respond with the wrong one. You can imagine how that goes over.

The kids have also taught me "asa" (ah-SAH), which is the Korean equivalent of "awesome" or "cool." (Ben, if you're reading this, I know you taught me first, but I forgot until one of the kids said it.) I'm kind of in love with this word. Readers, I'm issuing you a mission: please have the entire US using this term by the time I return home. Thanks. Even though I now use the word in class, the kids aren't technically allowed. Hana translated it for them one day and told them the proper English term is "hooray." That pretty much works, but my adorable little Korean monsters pronounce it "HOOOOOOO-RAY" and it cracks me up every single time.

Today I went to the hospital for my health check. Apparently my tears last week had convinced YJ that I needed his escort, so he accompanied me across town. When we arrived, I darted into the bathroom and discovered yet another location that uses the awkward blue soap-on-a-stick, and came back out to wait in the waiting room until I was called. The health check was comprised of a series of tests, executed in a completely random order by doctors who spoke little English. When it was time for my chest x-ray, I was led into a tiny room and told to put on a gown. I stripped, pulled a piece of cloth off the shelf, and wrapped it around me. I looked down, and much to my discontent, the gown only reached a little past my butt. I dug around the shelf again looking for some pants to go with my gown-shirt but had no luck. I stood in the room for a while, debating whether the cloth was too short because I'm American and inappropriately tall or because finding pants in the little room was a test of my mental competency. After a bit, I realized that I had been in the room far longer than was needed to change clothes, so I just waltzed out in the too-short gown. When the x-ray technician saw me, his eyes grew wide, and he pointed at my legs. I tried to explain that there were no pants in the room, but he was too embarrassed to watch my gesturing. I should have recognized ages ago that I'm the kind of person for whom it is crucial to know the phrase "no pants" in as many languages as possible. It wasn't until after the x-ray, when I was redressing, that it occurred to me that the cotton leggings I had worn that day would not have affected the x-ray in the slightest and would have prevented this entire train wreck of a situation. Oh well; next time I find myself pants-less in a foreign country, I'll know precisely what to do.

And now we change gears entirely, sans an acceptable transition...

Tonight when I got off work, I gathered up my things and headed to a Starbucks. Sipping my over-priced latte, I stared out the window for a long time, watching hoards of people file past in their outrageously fancy clothing and ankle-breaking heels. I brought a book with me, but I was too wrapped up in people-watching to really pay attention to what I was reading.

One of the things that had worried me the most about Korea was being in a big city. I'm not in any way a city girl. I was raised camping in the country, and I consider the Miami Metro "public transportation." Even in the two years I lived in Cincinnati, I never really enjoyed being downtown. I only went there when I had to, and even then, I power-walked, eyes down, clutching my belongings as though my mere presence would get me mugged. I've always felt the most at peace when I'm sitting around a campfire, making a necklace out of leaves and flowers, or fighting orcs in a Louisville park with my friends. So moving to a huge place like Seoul didn't exactly thrill me, but someone talked me into looking for jobs right in the middle of the stinkin' city.

Which brings me back to the Starbucks. Hundreds of people must have passed my window while I watched, and I wasn't able to read a single sign as far as I could see in either direction, and I couldn't have been more content. With all the hustle and bustle going on outside, I sat with my book, and I contemplated this adventure. There's no question that Korea is sensory overload. Every step you take, someone wants to sell you something, or stare awkwardly at you, or walk straight into you without apologizing. But right now, my life feels delightfully simplistic. Sure, there are shops and restaurants and bars and people everywhere I turn, but I currently don't understand 95% of what goes on around me. All I know is how to get to work, how to buy basic foods at the convenience store, and how to get to church... and it's such a relief. My primary needs are met, and I don't even really have that many wants. I can literally entertain myself for hours wandering around the Daiso (Korean dollar store), and I'm unreasonably pleased with myself when I successfully purchase a cup of coffee or an umbrella. Once the dust clears and things settle down, I'm sure this whole life will begin to feel routine, and it'll take more and more to sustain my contentment. Perhaps life is always that way; things begin so harmlessly, so full of simple joy. But once we begin to feel happy, our systems begin to crave things in excess; essentially, it takes increasing amounts to reach that original high, and we get so bogged down trying to please ourselves that even seeking pleasure becomes a chore. My current prayer is that I can appreciate these simple joys as long as possible. One day, too soon I'm sure, sitting alone in a Starbucks is bound to make me lonely and homesick. But right now, I'm beautifully content.

The week before I left, I was terrified. Moving to Asia seemed irrational, stupid, and ridiculous. I'm ten days in, and it feels like I've been here an hour and a decade simultaneously. Korea is crowded, confusing, stuffy, huge, strange... and a perfect fit for me. I can't believe it took me so long to find it.

The other day, my kids were playing quietly with Legos during lunchtime. Out of nowhere, one of my girls hopped to her feet, punched her hands in the air, and shouted, William Wallace-style, "I LOVE KOREA!" 

Me too, kid. Me too.

This post is slightly inappropriate. You've been warned.

This morning when I got to work, David filled his cheeks with orange juice then slapped his hands on the sides of his face, spraying orange juice all over the room. Most teachers would have disciplined him, but I'm not most teachers. I cracked up. :)

I'm getting more accustomed to teaching, which is so nice. Last week, I felt like everything I did was so hastily thrown together that the kids would run home and tell their parents how useless the teacher was, but now I'm starting to get into a groove. Sure, I'm still making copies during class, but at least now I'm coping the right pages. The kids haven't been in school before, so it's proving a little difficult to teach them simple things like "sit in your chair" and "don't punch each other", but I'm getting to the point where we can actually work on the lessons sometimes. And I've noticed most of the other kids in the school now have to walk with a bubble in their mouth (you can't talk when you have your cheeks puffed out, so it's golden), which makes me feel like I must be doing something right.

Lunch at the school is always pretty iffy. I never really know what's on my plate, so I kind of stick to eating rice and salad every day. Today, there was a pile of something fried that looked remarkably like chicken. I did a little dance to celebrate recognizable food, and Hana frowned. She told me it was actually rabbit.

Like bunny rabbit.

Like hop hop hop.

Naturally, my face fell. I was really looking forward to having some protein with lunch, but I wasn't quite sure I could stomach eating a bunny. Hana tried to make it better by telling me they don't eat the big, fat rabbits - just the baby ones.

That's not better.

I sat in the room for a minute, trying to decide whether I wanted to try the bunny. In the States, you'd have to practically drug me to get me to eat Thumper, but here, I've gotten slightly more adventurous, and I finally decided I'd rather have the experience than chicken out. I gathered up my courage and headed to the kitchen, where Hana stood, laughing with the cook. The woman who cooks out lunches is darling, but she speaks little English. When she saw me in the doorway, she pointed at the meat and said "chicken!" Hana practically fell on the floor she was laughing so hard.

I got my lunch, and Hana and I joked about the meat the whole time we were eating. Nothing escapes my students, so after a few minutes, they realized that Miss Hana played an oh-so-funny trick on Miss Nikki, and they all made fun of me too. I'd have been embarrassed if it hadn't been so funny.

A few hours later, we were working on food groups and the food pyramid. We talked about breads, fruits, and vegetables, and we got to the section on the pyramid for proteins. I asked the kids what their favorite meat was...

"Bunny rabbit!"

Screw you, Brian.

After school, Kat and I headed out for dinner. Pretty much everyone I hang out with tries to teach me a little Korean, but I just store it up in my head because I'm so nervous to use it. I've become much more understanding toward the Koreans here; I know that most of them know a little English, and at first I would get irritated that they didn't say hello back to me. But now that I know some Korean, I've become uncharacteristically shy, and I freeze up every time I walk into a building. I know how to say hello, and Hana tells me my pronunciation is very good, but I always get choked up. Sometimes, I actually almost say "Como estas?". It's like my brain recognizes that English is not the correct language, so it automatically substitutes Spanish. Eh, not so much. So today for dinner, I decided I would actually use the Korean I've been learning, and I said "kamsamnida" when I took my tray. I can't get too proud of myself, though; I was at Burger King.

I've been craving sweets since the day I was born, but I haven't really known what to get here. Korean snack foods are not at all what Americans eat as snacks; here, it's not uncommon to have cereal and milk for afternoon snack one day, and cold corn on the cob for snack the next morning. The first time Hana handed me a potato on a fork, I thought she was kidding. Although I know they sell cookies here, I pretty much just sit around and dream about Oreos and Fudge Rounds, but today I decided to buy some Korean junk food.

The first box is essentially tiny graham cracker sticks with chocolate mushroom shapes on top. They're quite delicious, and I kind of ate a whole box of them before I got home. The second snack is extremely similar to Koala Yummies (does anyone outside my family know what those are? I think we made up the name), but even more delicious. Kiss and B - you'll be getting plenty of them for Christmas, assuming I can keep them in my possession long enough to put them in a box without pigging out on them. That last snack... well, look again:

Oh Korea.

I have one more picture I'm trying to decide whether to post... I took it originally to only show my college roommates, but I can't stop laughing every time I think about it... so here it goes. Don't judge me. If you're reading this out loud to a child, please PLEASE stop here.

Here's a sink I found in one of the subway stops. That blue stick-looking thing near the faucet is a bar of soap. I'm not going to spell it out for you (I'm blushing just thinking about the fact that people are reading this right now), but just imagine how you get the soap onto your hands. I've never laughed harder (or been more embarrassed) while washing my hands.

In an attempt to partially redeem myself, here's a really cool picture of a multi-colored fountain that sprays out over a bridge:

Please still love me.

The longest blog post in the history of the world

I've been in Korea for a whole week today - hooray! I've yet to panic and try to book a flight home, but I think I can attribute that to the fact that I'm treating this, in my head, like it's just a little vacation. I aggressively deny the fact that I now LIVE in Asia; I'm just visiting for a little while and I'll be home soon. If I come home, however, I'll lose the money on my plane ticket, and I'll owe John Wilkinson $20. The latter concerns me far more since it's tangled up with my pride.

So far, every day here has been busy busy busy. I'm rather glad; it hasn't given me time to really let it sink in that I'm in Asia. Most of the time I feel like I'm at camp, like I'm making new friends and going on adventures (to the grocery store, but that's much more of an adventure than you'd ever realize). The people at Jubilee have been more than amazing. I've only been here a week, and I already feel like I have friends. Not best friends yet, of course, but people who are excited to help me navigate this crazy new world.

Saturday morning, I met my new friend Jo for lunch. Since I don't have a phone, meeting people right now consists of walking to an unknown location and sitting, hoping the other person actually arrives. When I met Jo, we had arranged to meet at the Sinsa Station, exit 2. I arrived a few minutes early, so I found a bench and watched the crowds roll by for a while. About ten minutes in, I realized that I didn't know whether meeting at exit 2 meant the top of exit 2 or the bottom (there's a staircase that takes you into the subway), so I hopped down the steps. At the bottom, a tiny old Asian woman walked straight up to me, looked into my eyes, said something Korean, and walked away. She didn't seem angry, but the whole interaction was a more than a little strange. I decided I liked being upstairs better, so I headed back upstairs to wait.

When Jo arrived, we wandered around what I am told is the celebrity area of Seoul. Of course, I have ZERO concept of Korean celebrities, so I could have just as easily been wandering through escaped convicts and been none the wiser. We found a restaurant and Jo got an octopus on her plate. I have a picture of it, but I'm not quite sure the best way to make friends is by plastering their meals on the internet, so I'll hold off. Just know it was bizarre.

One of the things I'm liking most about Korea is that every foreigner I meet has a story. I know that everyone in the States has a story too, but everyone here has a weird story, one that lands them in Asia at the end, and it makes them feel like my kind of people. We all have something crazy in common - each foreigner I meet decided one day to uproot themselves and replant on the other side of the world. I love asking people to tell me stories, and it's fantastic to know that everyone here has an automatic one that's bound to be pretty exciting.

After lunch, Jo and I went to get gelato, which I'm pretty sure is my new love language. Kat was at the gelato place too (you have no idea how fun it is to walk in a restaurant in Asia and actually know someone), so Jo passed me off to her, and Kat and I headed up to Itaewon.

Itaewon is full of foreigners. Some of them are annoying as heck, which makes me a little embarrassed about my heritage, but for the most part it wasn't bad. Before I left, Ben gave me a list of places to go, and I was THRILLED to be able to cross one off:

We didn't spend a lot of time in Itaewon, so I don't have much else to report on that at the moment. I've heard from many different people that it's not an area I want to be in alone at night, so I'm planning to make all my trips with armed body guards.

Kat and I had a few hours to kill before the party we went to Saturday night, and she wanted to take a nap, so I decided to head out into Banpo and take some pictures of my surroundings. I'll post everything in a facebook album eventually, but here are a few to get you excited:

I live at the top of this hill. It's disappointingly horizontal in the picture, but it feels like I'm climbing straight up into the sky every single time I try to go home. In case you were wondering, my butt is going to be in fantastic shape by the time I return to the States.

The other teachers at my school have a very complex naming system for the streets. In Korea, they don't name streets - like at all. You have to give landmarks and hope the person you're meeting is competent. To keep track of all our friends, however, the other teachers began labeling the streets in our little neighborhood. I live on Green Salad street, and I take Merry Christmas street to get to work.

While I was on my picture-taking excursion, I decided to stop for a pedicure. Despite the fact that I'm known for being pretty girly, I've never had a pedicure in my life, and Asia seemed like the perfect place to start (yes, I'm subscribing to extreme stereotypes here). I thought this was likely another situation where taking pictures was a tad bit rude, so I don't have any action shots for you. However, I do have some commentary. When I walked in the shop, it was clear the girls spoke little English. I pointed to my toes and asked how much, and the girl closest to me held up the amount with her fingers. I smiled and nodded, and she led me to a seat. One of the other girls jumped up and changed the tv channel to something in English (Pirates of the Caribbean, to be precise), and the girls kept offering to bring me snacks and drinks. At one point, one of them said "five discount" and they took five dollars off my bill at the end.

I don't like being American here. I feel like I'm some kind of celebrity, and it's not that I don't like the attention (heaven knows I love attention); it's the fact that I don't feel like I deserve any of it. Why should I get free cookies and $5 off just because I'm white? I know they're being generous and I genuinely do appreciate it, but it's only one week in and I'm already starting to miss my anonymity. I don't like being treated in a different way because of my light hair and thin face. I don't like that the teenage boy at the convenience store giggles like a little girl when I walk in, and I don't like that people shout "I love white girls" when I walk by. I'm not that pretty. And to top it all off, I'm actually feeling painfully insecure everywhere I go. I've never felt more overweight and underdressed than I do here (and I spent four years in Oxford, for crying out loud!). The girls here are tiny tiny, and they are always dressed like they stepped off a runway. I've never had the best self-esteem, but I spend a lot of time wishing I could just be invisible. Not only do I feel awfully inferior to the women here, but it's magnified by the fact that I'm so noticeable wherever I go. The cotton dresses that used to make me feel pretty now feel like burlap sacks, and my flip flops practically scream "I have no fashion sense!". I don't feel any need to lose weight or buy new clothes per se, but I do already miss fitting in.

I'm not sure if the hour-by-hour rundown of my life is starting to annoy any of you, but it's kind of annoying me. On one hand, I know it'll be fun to look back on this first week and see all the things I did. But on the other hand, it's just life. Yes, the grocery store was hilarious because Heather thought the free sample lady said "dog" instead of "duck"... but in the end, it was just a grocery store. I love writing things out because it's just the way I process life, but I kind of feel like I've decided I'm more of a reporter than a participant in my own adventure. I take pictures of all the meals, and I write down funny things the kids say (for all you Brian fans, today he INSISTED that he is a pretty princess)... but it kind of distances me from what I'm doing. I'm not going to delete this post because I've already spent so much time working on it, but I think from now on, I'll stick to topical posts. This whole diary thing isn't working for me.

I don't mean to be such a downer. Here's a funny story to lighten the mood: I went to the bank today to open an account, and only one person in the whole place spoke English. Unfortunately for me, he was super attractive, so I couldn't even remember how to spell my name on the application. It took a while to cash my travelers checks, so I spent about an hour talking with this guy, and I was totally smitten by the time I left. I got back to my classroom and told Hana that I fell in love; we both laughed and went back to work. At the end of the day, one of my little girls told me she couldn't ride the shuttle home because she had to go to the bank to meet Miss Nikki's new boyfriend and see how handsome he was. Oops. :P

Those aren't tater tots; they're squid.

Hello, America! Before I dive into yesterday's adventures, I'd really like to thank everyone who sent me some form of encouragement yesterday. Life felt unnecessarily hard all day, and I was literally checking my facebook and my blog every hour or so to see if I had any new messages or comments. I heard from people from high school I haven't talked to in years, friends of family members I've never met, and, of course, the people who have been holding my hand from the other side of the world all week. It's a little embarrassing how many times I've read the comments and messages - I know there are 18 on my last post, 9 on the one before it, and 8 on the one before that, and I've lost count of how many messages are in my inbox. Every single one of them has been so encouraging to me, and it's really amazing to know that so many people are behind me even when I'm feeling terribly alone. I sincerely hope that Kimi's right and it's mainly just the jet lag; I know I'll be homesick and sad at various points throughout the whole year, but I feel a little like a failure that I couldn't even make it my first week without crying. I'm going to blame it on the jet lag.

I didn't get lost going to work yesterday, so that's fantastic! The schedule was off again because we had our Star of the Month assembly, but that just means every student in the school was in the gym, all saying and doing hilarious things at the same time. I didn't think to start writing things down until the program was nearly over, but here are a few gems:

"Is dentist a sport?"
Mr. Spencer: "What's your favorite healthy food?"
kid: "Gooood mushrooms."
Mr. Spencer: "What is a habit?"
kid: "It's a bad thing that you do all the time and you should STOP DOING IT!"

The assembly was actually a lot of fun, and I'm kind of looking forward to taking the kids to it every month. I think it's the only time all the kids are together in one space, and a hundred-plus Korean kids in one room guarantees some hilarity.

Also, we took this class picture:

Hana refused to be in it because she was dressed like a soccer player and thought she looked silly. She wouldn't let me take a picture of her all day... which of course means that's the ONLY thing I wanted to do all day. Since she was so adamant against you all seeing her in her soccer garb, I'll hold off until next week to post a pretty picture of her. (For the record, though, she still looked adorable.)

After the assembly, YJ brought me a map of the subway and three sheets of paper (all in Korean) and told me to go get my health check up. I was already pretty fragile... so... I started crying. I waited until he left the room (thankfully), and I tried really hard to hide myself, but Hana still caught me. I showed her what I was supposed to do, and she became very indignant. She stomped off to the principal's office and demanded that someone go with me to help me find the hospital. A few minutes later, YJ came back in and explained that he was very busy and couldn't go with me. He highlighted the correct route on the subway and nodded encouragingly... and Hana told him no. She insisted that someone go with me, and if everyone was busy this week, we'd have to wait until next week. YJ begrudgingly agreed to let me go next week and left. I... cried again.

This time, we had some kiddos in the room, so Hana stood behind me at my desk and I typed out everything so she could read it. I tried to explain that I just feel so helpless here. I don't have a bank account, I can't ride the subway, I don't know how to order in a restaurant, I can't read ANYTHING, and I don't have a cell phone to call someone if I need help. I took cold showers all week because I didn't know how to turn on the hot water, and I couldn't ask the landlord for help. It's fun and humorous for a while, but you get to a point where you just think "okay, that's enough. I'm ready to actually do something for myself now"... but you can't. No matter how long I stare at a street sign, I don't know Korean. Hana is so wonderful because she lived in Canada for a year during college, so she knows what  it's like to up and move to another country where she didn't know anyone and couldn't get around. She said she was lucky though because she spoke the language, and she can't imagine how hard it must be for all of us. She's been an absolute dream come true. Yesterday she noticed I liked the juice we were drinking at snack time, so she slipped the rest of the bottle into my bag, and she wrote me a note to give to my landlord to ask him to fix my hot water. I'm kind of scared that one day she'll just disappear - she's too good to be true.

I don't want it to sound too much like I'm throwing myself a pity party. It's true that I don't know how to do hardly anything, but thus far, I've managed to get around just fine. I haven't needed to take the subway yet, I still have some cash left, and I don't have to go anywhere alone really. Kat's been with me at some point every night, and the two people I met at Jubilee have both been really great. I had dinner with Heather two nights ago, and I'm meeting Joanna today for lunch. Kat's coming to meet me after lunch and we're going to Itaewon (there's a bookstore there I'm dying to see). When I think logically about it, I've had more support than I ever dreamed, and I'm being cared for very well. Unfortunately, I'm a girl, and less than 1% of my brain power is devoted to logical thinking, so things like subway maps sometimes cause me to burst into tears.

I've kind of lost track of where I was heading with this post... Umm... here's a funny picture of Brian playing golf:

And here are some funny sentences the kids wrote on their homework:

Write a sentence using the word "crack"

When the crack in the Korea, we go to the airplane.

Write a sentence using the word "mighty"

Miss Nikki is the mighty teacher.

Write a sentence using the word "horn"

My mommy has a horn when she is angry.

And while I'm just listing random things, one of my students lived in Chicago last year. She was telling me about her life there, her school and her friends and her church. Guess where she went? Willowcreek! Smaaaaaall world!

Last night, Kat took me out for some Mexican food. Yes, I know I'm in Asia, but I like Mexican food so leave me alone. I got to experience the bus for the first time (it's not nearly as intimidating as I had decided it would be), and we went to this big mall in Chungshankyodibonchoi (there's a slight chance that's not the right name, but that's what it sounded like to me). She kept trying to point out landmarks so I could find my way back to it, but I honestly wasn't even paying attention. I'm lucky if I can find my own kitchen most days, so finding the Mexican restaurant in a part of town I can't pronounce is out of the question. We shopped for a while after eating, and found this in a bookstore:

How is it that this is one of the coolest things I've ever seen and yet I'd never found one in America? Oh my gosh, just seeing it again makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.

We went in tons of stores in the mall (including a Hello Kitty store to buy things for my momma), and every single one of them was new and exciting. Granted, we weren't going in the Samsonite store; we obviously picked the stores that looked like the most fun. Their toys are bizarre to say the least. There's a hamster-ish dude who looks a lot like a brown slipper with eyes, and I fell in love with him. Every store we went into, I picked up the biggest hamster thing they had and hugged him while I walked around. Kat kept telling me to just buy the darn thing, but I only have about $75 left in Korean cash, and I didn't want to blow $20 of it on a pillow with a face. But now that I'm thinking about him again, I miss him, and I'm totally regretting not purchasing one. Kat said if I don't get one before my birthday that's what she'll get me. I'll carry it everywhere, no joke.

As we were leaving the mall, I stopped in the middle of a bunch of huge buildings and just stood there. It's crazy hard trying to adjust to Asia; sometimes, I'll be walking down the street, and the fact that I'm in Korea just ambushes me. It sneaks up behind me and jumps on my back, shouting in my ear, "What the hell were you thinking?! Do you know you're in Asia right now?! You're insane!" But then sometimes, I stare up at the buildings and I watch the people flooding down the street around me, and it just fits. It feels like this is where I'm supposed to be, and it's scary and strange and sad and lots of other s words, but I know I didn't make a mistake coming here. For whatever reason, this is right where God wants me, and I'm just so glad I listened.

I can't wait to go to an actual Sunday church service at Jubilee tomorrow. I kind of feel like I'm playing a big game with God; he told me to move to Asia, and I did it, so now I have to track down the reason why I'm here. It's like a big scavenger hunt, really, one with kimchi and hamster-slipper toys, and I love that this whole big game is for me. God's been taking care of me since before I even left Ohio, and his people picked me up the second I landed. It's going to be a really hard year, but if life's always easy, you're not doing it right.

I'll leave you with my favorite thing from yesterday, knowing full well that you'll all be super jealous you don't live in Asia too. Until tomorrow, loves!

My first Korean meal, and other things.

It seems as though I have an aversion to sleeping past 6 in Korea, and that's why you're getting so many blog posts. That and the fact that I find much of what happens to me to be hysterical, so I write it all down. If you're bored, I apologize. But seriously, just don't click the link next time! :)

Yesterday morning, I got lost on the way to work. Yep, it was my third day making the journey, but for some reason, I entirely forgot how to get there. I popped out next to the Woori Bank, which is how I get to Kyobo (I just realized how ridiculous all this must sound), and even though it's a little far, I know how to get to work from Kyobo. Today I'll have to make sure to leave earlier. Apparently the magical sense of direction that helped me find Jubilee has worn off, and I'm left with my standard sense of direction that used to get me lost in my own parking lot.

When I got to work, I found out that the kids would be late because the storm I heard the night before was actually a typhoon. A typhoon! I googled it, and found out that the biggest tropical storm to hit Korea in fifteen years managed to hit during my first week. Now that's a great omen if I've ever heard one! Anyway, so every other kindergarden in Korea was ordered closed due to whether, but Gate decided to be rebels and open anyway. Lucky me :)

Only two of my kids arrived on time, so I let them draw on the board. I was told to just "keep them busy" until all the kids showed up and we could do something productive, so drawing seemed like a grand idea to me. I asked them to draw their families, and they're super smart kids so I know they understood the word. Instead, though, they drew me.

I asked him if I could take a picture, and that's the pose he made. It's just about the cutest thing ever.

I only had two markers for the board, so when a third student arrived, I decided to play hangman. It's actually a really good game, teaching-wise, and it's low-stress for me. I drew the first puzzle on the board, and asked the kids to give me a letter.

"Pillow!"

Um, that's not a letter, Brian. Try again.

Once they got the hang of the game, they loved it. About three games in, though, one of my little girls asked if we could please do a workbook instead because the game was boring. She WANTED to do workbooks instead of playing games. So strange.

Yesterday my new class orientation was scheduled, so all the mommies came in to hear about my teaching strategies. I tried to stay away from "Yes, I'm your child's teacher, and I got lost on my way to work today", so it all went pretty well. Little sidenote: all parents are called mommies and daddies here. Not mothers and fathers or moms and dads - mommies and daddies. It's cute, but I feel so incredibly silly referring to my students' parents as "Evelyn's mommy." Anyway... orientation went well. Only two of the mommies could understand English, so I spent forty-five minutes talking to a room of women who pretty much had no idea what I was saying. On top of that, I was horribly distracted by the fact that one of the mommies in the front row was wearing a t-shirt that said "save water, shower with a friend!"

After work yesterday, Hana took me to the Korean equivalent of a dollar store to get supplies for my apartment. Kat came with us, which turned out to be a blessing because I kind of forgot to bring money. On the way there, we decided that our goal was to purchase a one-dollar man (I cannot for the life of me remember how we got on that), and I quite enjoy the fact that we can practically shout about how men are worthless and no one even looks at us because hardly anyone can understand what we're saying. It's amazingly fun to be so anonymous. The dollar store was huge! Hana led me upstairs and started picking out things I needed. I got a variety of cleaners, dishes, and towels... and this trash can:

In case you're having trouble, that says "you have to get ready all the times to get her love" and has a picture of a girl following apples into a tree where a boy is hiding.

After the dollar store excursion, I met up with my friend Heather from Jubilee. She teaches in a very small school and doesn't know a lot of foreign teachers, so she had a blast pointing things out to me. The absolute biggest disappointment of my night was that I forgot my camera. We chose a restaurant (okay, Heather chose a restaurant), and we went inside. We were the only foreigners in the building, which was so much fun, and the waiter brought us a free coke. At least, we assumed it was free seeing as we didn't order it and it just appeared on our table. I'm going to attempt to explain the food, but I really wish I had pictures.

The main dish was pork, and it was essentially really thick bacon. We cooked it right at the table, which was hilarious to me. Around the pork, we were given what felt like a million side dishes - boiled scrambled eggs, three kinds of kimchi, a super-spicy tofu soup, and these little sheets of radish paper that tasted like cole slaw. When the bacon-ish was cooked, Heather taught me how to eat it. We wrapped a piece of meat inside a piece of lettuce, along with other toppings from the table. I was under the impression that I'd be eating this like a tiny taco, so I filled it up with things. I looked across the table to take Heather's cues, and she had rolled hers into a little ball and popped it in her mouth. Uh-oh. Mine was HUGE. Instead of unloading part of it, I just stuffed the entire thing in my mouth and we both started cracking up. I failed similarly when attempting to eat with chopsticks; at school, they are my only option, but it's pretty easy to scoop rice up, so I haven't had much trouble. It's a whole different story when you're trying to manipulate meat into different kinds of sauces. I'm pretty sure I dropped everything I picked up, and we laughed every single time. Heather was quite enjoying being the sophisticated, experienced one; since she mostly hangs out with Koreans, she's the one who's always committing an array of faux pas.

We intended to go to a Walmart-esque store, but we ended up talking far too long and it started to get late. We walked back to my apartment, and she explained some things in the convenience store on the way so I'd be able to hopefully make successful purchases in the future. Heather is an incredibly valuable new friend to have since she speaks a decent amount of Korean, and she's also really fun. She's only here until Christmastime, though, and that's a terrible shame. I knew that'd be the case; people will come and go the whole time I'm here, but it's sad to think this new friend I made is only around the next few months. That's going to be really hard to get used to.

On a more personal note, I think I'm adjusting pretty well, but I'm startled to find that homesickness hits at random times and in powerful ways. I think it's a little bit related to the jet lag; I start to crash around 1 in the afternoon, and that's when I get horribly depressed. It positively brings me to tears to think that no one in America will ever see my apartment, and that everyone I care about will hear my stories by reading them on this blog. I know it's the most efficient way of communicating; there are far more people reading this than I expected would be interested, so it'd be impossible to call each of you on skype and tell you the stories individually. But it's really hard to have to type out everything and just send it off, not actually getting to hear people laugh at the hilarious things that happen to me or see people smile when I try to pronounce Korean words. I know you're having fun reading my adventures, and that's the point of the blog, but just know that it's a lot harder on me than I'm making it sound. It's painfully lonely sometimes (like right now) and I just wish I had someone with me to lean on. I enjoy the new friends I'm making so very much, but they're not the same as having someone who knows me here. Please keep commenting on the blog - I reread the comments until I pretty much have them memorized just so I can remind myself that people out there are listening and love me. It's really great here, but really hard. Please pray for me :) I love you all!

I'm a teacher!

I wrote this post in two parts: a little last night and the rest this morning. I'm sorry if it's confusing!

When I left this morning, I intended to find Dunkin Donuts and buy breakfast for me and Hana. Well, I did find the Dunkin Donuts, but I failed miserably at ordering. I'm pretty sure I inadvertently purchased mud-water, and I somehow ended up with a mix bag of donuts instead of the two plain ones I wanted. When I showed up at school with the evidence of my failure, Hana laughed at me because I couldn't even order American food correctly. I deserved it.

Last night when I left school, my classroom was a mess. This morning, it looked like this:

Basically, Hana's a rockstar. I'm totally obsessed with this classroom.

So around 9:15, my students trickled in. I have five of them - two girls and three boys. One of the boys was kicked out of two other classes in the school for being a pain in the butt, so I was intimidated by him right off the bat. In my opinion, he wasn't really that bad, but I've only had him one day. We'll see. My kids are "six" in Korean age, which means they're 4 1/2 to 5 in America. I know that doesn't make a lick of sense, so I can explain it if you're genuinely curious. They're young but crazy smart. These kids read better than our second or third graders, and their vocabulary is off the charts. They don't understand a lot of slang or cliches, but I've yet to notice a grammatical error in any of their speech.

I'm not going to outline everything I did because (1) I simply don't have time - I have to get ready for work soon and (2) it's not all that thrilling. I mean, I'm teaching phonics to first graders. Pretty easy stuff. There was a moment, though, sometime after we put forty-something animals on a felt board, and the kids were laughing and playing, when one of my little boys looked up at me and said, "teacher, I like school with you" that totally made me melt. Why did it take me so long to realize how much I adore teaching? I was smiling the whole day... I really, really love this job.

Aside from the sappy "I'm changing lives!", here are some hilarious reasons I love my job:

"Teacher, you look like the Power Rangers teacher."

me: "Can anyone name an animal?"

Brian: "CRAP!"

me: "Do you mean crab?"

Brian: "Oh, right."

"Teacher, I think you are my grandmother."

(draw a picture of your favorite person) "This is my uncle. He's holding his iphone - 4G"

(she handed me a box with Korean on it) "Can you read this to me please? HAHAHA you can't."
"You drink a lot of water, teacher. You are an elephant."
(and my personal favorite!) "Why does your stomach hang out like that?"

People comment A LOT on your physical appearance here, and that's another blog post for another time, but suffice it to say, it's quite unnerving to be so scrutinized. I think I may have to shower daily or something.

At the end of the day, Hana was running around the room, tears in her eyes, trying to get everything ready for when the parents arrived. I felt terrible for her. She seems to be the kind of person who needs to do everything one thousand percent, and I consider ninety percent stellar, so a part of me just wants to tell her to take a deep breath and let herself make some mistakes. She's going to drive herself mad if she keeps working this hard! But I don't know her that well, and I'm trying to be extremely careful when it comes to offending people, so I'll let her do her job. Once the parents were gone, we sat down together and talked about the day and everything was calm. Then I tried to turn off the desktop computer on my desk by pulling down the monitor (like I do with my laptop), and she laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. I just stared at the fallen computer, wondering what on earth I had done wrong. Lack of sleep will do that to you.

Just before I left, one of the parents came back into the room and asked if her son had made any friends. There are so few kids in the class that they all seem to be friends right off the bat. She said to let her know when he starts to make friends because "friendships are much more important than studies." Amen.

After school, I intended to go home and get my apartment set up, but I read Ben's comment on my last post telling me to get to Jubilee. I was torn - I was really looking forward to doing this whole Korea thing on my own, and if I went to make friends right away, I'd have help. And I didn't want help - I wanted the pride of accomplishing things alone. But then I stopped at the market and ended up buying this for dinner:

And I realized that maybe a tiny bit of help wouldn't be so bad. (Sidenote: I got this home and discovered there is no silverwear in my apartment, so I had to eat the oranges with my fingers. You'd have done the same, I'm sure.)

I had asked the other teacher at my school to draw me a map to Jubilee in case I decided to go, and sitting at home with my "Sweet and Delicious" somethings, I made the choice to attempt the journey. It was about a thirty minute walk, and it was already dark outside, but I wasn't really nervous. I've already gotten pretty good at locating either Kyobo or the cheese grater building when I'm lost, and I can get home from either of those. This was pretty far away, but there weren't too many turns, so I tried it.

I got to the church just before the service started, and sat down next to the first girl who smiled at me (that's really how I choose my friends here). Her name is Joanna, and she's British. I was dead tired from the walk and jet lag, so I didn't make a lot of conversation, but she knew a lot of people, so it wasn't too awkward.

There were maybe a hundred people in the part of the room I could see (it turned, and I don't know what happened next), but when the music started, you'd have thought there were a thousand. The voices were peppered with all kinds of accents, and it was amazing. I knew all the songs, and I sang along when I could - I was so overwhelmed by this pocket of deeply passionate people that I kind of just stood there in awe. After the music died down, they started to pray.

Korean praying is not like anything I've ever heard before. The person on the stage starts the prayer, but then every voice in the room picks it up. No one's whispering; everyone speaks their prayers at the same time. It's the most jumbled, incoherent, and heartbreakingly beautiful sound in the world.

I'm rapidly running out of time before school, so I can't describe much else about the church service. The speaker was passionate, hilarious, and profound, and I wished I had brought something to write his every word onto. They ended the service with more singing and more prayer, and I just felt so content.

I really, really like it here.

The service didn't end until almost 10:30, so I was struggling to keep my eyes open by the time it was all over. Joanna introduced me to some other people, and I probably came across as a zombie, but they seemed friendly. I told my new friend Heather what I had for dinner, and she promptly offered to meet me for dinner tonight so that won't happen again. She asked how I was getting home, and I told her I was walking because it only took half an hour; she looked shocked and asked why I didn't take the bus. That seemed pretty obvious to me - I don't know how to take the bus. She offered to get me home even though it was the total opposite direction she needed to go, but I told her I could do it. It really wasn't that bad of a walk, and I was too exhausted to try to keep a conversation going. I got home and fell asleep as soon as I laid down, and now here I am.

I have to leave for work in about an hour, so I need to start getting ready if I'm going to have time to talk to my family before I leave.  If I haven't talked to you personally yet, I'm terribly sorry, but thank you for following my adventure here. Your support means the world to me while I try to bumble my way through this new life.

Day One: A Success!

It's 5:30 in the morning here, and my body has decided it's finished sleeping. That's incredibly annoying, seeing as at 8:30 last night, I was half-passed out on Billy's couch, and couldn't even keep my eyes open enough to make decent conversation. Anyway, since I have three whole hours before I have to be ready for work, I thought I'd give you a painfully detailed rundown of my first 36 hours in Korea. You're welcome, all!

Yesterday morning, I got to talk to an array of family members before getting ready for work. I plan to do that again today, but it's not quite 5 in the afternoon, so no one's going to be ready to chat just yet. Also, despite the fact that my body refuses to sleep any longer, my mind knows it's before six in the morning, and my mind HATES being awake before six in the morning, so I'm not feeling particularly chipper just yet. I'm hoping once I am finished with this post I'll be ready to chat. This is also random (I promise I'll get back to the story soon): I'm actually hungry. This is the first time since I've arrived that I've wanted to eat. I've been eating, of course, but right now I actually WANT to eat. It's a surprisingly good feeling. (I'm eating leftover pizza from last night and girl scout cookies. It's amazing.)

After talking to my parents and family, I realized that perhaps I needed to shower before work. Okay, so I really needed to shower before work. My problem was that my bathroom looked like this:

Toilet? Check. Medicine cabinet? Check. Sink? Check. Shower? ... Shower? Hmm. Look again.

Perhaps my shower is this thing?

Indeed. That is my shower. I decided that the only way this shower contraption would work would be to hold it in my hands while I washed. Of course, I have no pictures of this, but you can rest assured it was complicated as heck. I don't think I've ever laughed so much in the shower. When I was finished, I hung the shower thingy back in its place... and that's when I realized that I could probably leave it there and shower under it like a normal shower.

That's the plan for today :) Additionally, I couldn't figure out how to get the hot water to work. YJ told me to press a button on this thingy:

I tried that, but I couldn't get it to work, and I forgot to ask him yesterday. Today's shower will be equally cold, but less comical.

So after my overly complicated shower, YJ picked me up at my apartment and walked me to the school. When I got there, he introduced me to a handful of administrative people, took me to my classroom, and peaced out. My Korean teacher, Hana, was there, so I got to meet her and chat. She's maybe the nicest person in Korea. She's ridiculously cute and tiny, and she's spent the last two weeks decorating our classroom. It's not quite finished yet, so I'll hold off on posting pictures until things are a little more organized, but rest assured it's one of the prettiest classrooms in the building.

Since I didn't have any students, I decided to wander around the building and try to make friends. I walked past a few classrooms until I found someone who acknowledged me in the hall and invited me in. My new friend Meghan.

Meghan is from Canada and has been in Korea for a couple years. She was one of the original teachers when GATE opened, so she's really a wealth of knowledge. She introduced me to her kiddos, and here are some of the outstanding responses I got:

"Your hair is very comfortable."

"Are you from North United States or South United States?"

"Is there a West America, since there's a South America?"

"Yeah, I already know you."

"Skinny."

I spent much of the day in Meghan's class, watching her teach and trying to figure out how the heck I'm going to do it. Much of the work comes straight out of workbooks, which is horribly sad for the kids, but kind of a relief for me. Meghan gave me her lesson plans for the week so I don't have to worry about them, but I still have no clue what I'll actually be doing with the kids. My class starts today, and only one of them has ever been in school before, so this might be a bit of a challenge. On the bright side, I only have five students (five! hahaha) as of right now, so there's little likelihood of being overthrown. Today will probably consist of routine-building. I have no idea what the routines will be yet since I just arrived and can hardly figure out how to bathe myself, but we'll just wing it. I'm guessing people kind of expect me to fail a little bit this week, so I'm not worried about it. I just need to survive until the weekend and I can plan something better then.

After school, vice principal invited all the teachers out to dinner, so my other new friend, Kat, and I decided it would be fun. The other girl who lives in my building walked me home so I could change, then Kat and I headed out to locate the restaurant. When we arrived, everyone else was already eating and chatting... and they were all Korean. None of the other foreign teachers had decided to attend. The table they were sitting at was already full, so Kat and I had so sit one table over. Sarah, the vice principal, came over to our table and helped us order. Before long, more Korean teachers arrived and sat with us, so we didn't look so much like unwanted step children anymore.

Tangent: It's proving to be slightly challenging to understand the culture. For example, in my school, the teachers are referred to as either foreign or Korean. Each foreign teacher has a Korean teacher, and it's stated just like that. Not "co-teacher" or "assistant teacher" but Korean teacher. Apparently the Korean teachers make far less than we do, and their jobs are infinitely harder. Hana has already put in SO much time making our classroom beautiful; she's been there until midnight the last two nights. When the kids come, she'll be in charge of sending home detailed letters of what I do with them, contacting parents for any and all issues, gathering and serving all the meals, and a crazy amount of other tasks. I'm in charge of teaching. That's it. It feels ridiculously unfair, but there's not much I can do to change it. The foreign teachers have their jobs, and the Korean teachers have very separate jobs. They don't mingle much; not many of the foreign teachers are friends with their Korean teachers, and it doesn't seem to bother anyone. Hana is so very lovely, and I hope that we'll be friends. She tracked me down a couple times to bring me food because she knew I hadn't eaten since the plane and wanted to make sure that I was well fed. She's worked her butt off on our classroom, and won't accept any offers of help. She just tells me that my job is harder than hers and I should not worry about her. I really hate saying it, but it feels a little bit like having a slave, and it makes me slightly uncomfortable. I'm in her country, and yet I have a higher status that she does? How is that even fair? When I walked in the room, she looked at me and said, "May was right, you are so pretty. It's intimidating." This absolutely gorgeous girl thinks I'm pretty? I looked like a hot mess - I'd hardly slept at all, and my fight with the shower certainly left something to be desired. I'm pretty because I'm American... and that just feels wrong. I feel like I'm being rewarded for something I didn't do, and it's so very strange.

Anyway, so this post is getting really long. I'll try to wrap it up. After dinner, Kat and I headed out in search of Billy's hotel. Meghan had called the tourist line and gotten directions for me: Gangnam station, exit three, walk five minutes, turn right, walk one minute. Seriously. Those were my directions. Kat offered to help me find it, but I asked her if I could try to do it on my own and she could just correct me if I went terribly off-course. I think I amazed both of us by finding it right away. I didn't get us lost at all - just walked right to it! I literally skipped down the sidewalk (and received more funny looks from Koreans), and we went inside to call Billy.

He met us downstairs (how he knew I was there, I'll never know), and we went up to his room. There were only three of us, so euchre was a no-go. We talked a little, and I curled up in a ball on the couch. I wasn't asleep, but I was really close, so I was lucky that Kat maintained conversation well. A little after nine, I stole a roll of toilet paper from him and Kat and I headed home.

I directed us home without any troubles, which made me all kinds of proud. The second I got in my apartment, I changed into pjs and passed out on the bed. I thought it'd be no trouble to sleep straight through until my alarm, but that didn't work out quite as planned. That's okay. I'm planning to take an uncomfortably cold shower and walk up to Dunkin' Donuts to get breakfast for me and Hana. (Yes, I already ate half a pizza and I'm planning to get donuts too. Don't you worry about it.) Tonight, Kat offered to take me to the Wednesday night service at Jubilee, but I've already blown the last two nights without buying anything for my apartment, so I need to go do that tonight. I'd love to be able to unpack sometime soon. Next Wednesday, though, I'm totally there. :)

Jet lag

Before I left, I told my friends that I didn't believe in jet lag. I had decided it was mind over matter.

Ha.

I arrived in my apartment a few hours ago, and the very first thing I did was pass out on the bed. I did manage to get the table cloth-like sheet down before I fell asleep, but I couldn't be bothered with blankets. Now that I'm slightly better rested (I'm still planning to go back to sleep here very soon), I'll try to give a little better of an update.

My apartment is pretty nice. I'll get pictures posted soon, but I'm too lazy to get out of bed and try to find my camera. Plus, I'd like to set a few things up around the place to make it look a little more homey when you all see it. Here are some apartment fun facts:
- The landlord came by and talked to me in Korean. I tried to explain to him that I didn't understand any Korean, but he didn't seem to know any English. We both just smiled and giggled nervously until he finally gave up and went away.
- My shower IS the bathroom. The bathroom IS the shower. There's a drain in the floor, and I'm assuming I'll have to become very coordinated to hold the water thingy and wash my hair simultaneously. Shaving my legs will be out of the question for a while.
- The refrigerator smells like something died in it. I don't know where to find cleaner, but it's okay because I don't have any food at the moment.
- I'm not sure if it's safe to drink the water, so for now, I'm just going to be very thirsty. If you know me at all, you know I can drink a gallon of water with dinner, so this is a tad bit painful, but I'd rather err on the side of safety than end up puking my guts out.
- I don't have any dishes, but it's okay because I don't have any food at the moment.
- My window looks out at a lovely brick wall. The roof of the building next to mine has a plastic kids' play thing on it, and once it's light out again, I intend to find out if mine does too. Also, I'm hoping to jump from one roof to the other, SpiderMan style.
- I have a washing machine, but the directions are in Korean.
- Ditto for the stove.
- And the air conditioner.
- And the tv remote.
- I found a Chanel bag under the sink and have been using it for trash. For some reason, this strikes me as very funny.
- We passed a Starbucks on the way to my apartment. I think I can find my way back to it in the morning? I surely hope so.

Sitting here on my table cloth bed, it's easy to imagine that I'm just in a new apartment in Cincinnati. In fact, when I was asleep, I dreamt that all my friends were here, in this new apartment, and we were exploring the city together. It was quite sad to wake up and find myself utterly alone. I think things will be easier tomorrow, when I have something to do and people to meet. Right now, I'm in an apartment that's much too cold (but I can't fix it) that smells a little funny from being closed up for a while, and I'm just lonely. It's a weird kind of lonely; being in a city of 11 million people, yet the only person you've tried to talk to in the last six hours doesn't speak your language. It's lonely with people all around, and in my experience, that's the worst kind.

Oh, but this is exciting: when I very first started thinking about moving to Korea, I found a picture of this bridge:

and knew I needed to find it as soon as possible. Well, it's practically right outside my door. We passed it on the way in, and I started bouncing in my seat. People looked at me funny. Korea's either going to stifle my joy, or I'm going to learn to not care what people think. Please God, let it be the latter.

I'm still feeling really sick from the plane food. I originally thought I was just sick because I was trying to type on a moving bus, but I get a little dizzy when I try to stand up, so it can't be that. I'm going to try to sleep it off; I have to work in a few hours, so I don't have much choice.

Until next time...