Just One Expat's Opinion: January 2015

Cold!

I just recently passed the four month mark of my contract which means I am one third of the way through my Korean adventure. I think it was the first time I was able to take a step back and review my time spent here and the roller coaster of emotions that comes with being an a foreigner in a new country. Of course, I cannot speak for everyone, each of us have made our own unique experience and with that comes our own unique path of processing. However, some of you from the home land have wondered (and even worried) why I haven't been as vocal or posting as many blogs or pictures on social media so I thought maybe some insight to life as an expat might be helpful.

Rest assured I am not only ok, I am fabulous. But for anyone wondering, and maybe even those reading this who are planning on going through the same adventure, here is an up close and personal view to what the last four months have meant for me...

Month One - "Ahhh!" (to be interpreted in every sense)
For those of you who have been following my blog you know that my flight here was both "holy bejezus this is so exciting" and "what the f did I just get myself into?". You land and are immediately thrust into this purgatory-like orientation of people going through the same exact emotions as you. It's a thrilling college-dorm-like experience of meeting new people, taking mini explorations off campus where you practice your first bit of Korean and see if you actually can navigate around a new world. All within the comfort of a few blocks from a campus full of foreigners and English-speaking Koreans to use as a safety net. I remember the first thing I actually said to a Korean on the street was 커피 주세요, which means "Coffee please?" or "Do you have coffee?" A phrase I still cherish to this day.

Orientation was the time to get to know the other people in your area as well as surrounding areas in hopes that when you're first dropped into your apartment you won't feel completely and utterly alone. And even though it feels like it's months long (in actuality it's under two weeks), all of a sudden you're boarding buses to cut the chord and head off to your new life, a daunting but exhilarating feeling.

Very quickly you go from the security blanket of orientation to meeting your new co-teacher, buying supplies to set up your apartment, spending your first night alone, and starting your first day of school. For some of us that was a 24 hour period. For me, I had a few days before the school year started which gave me plenty of time to sit at my new desk and fill myself with an anxiety of "what's". What am I supposed to teach them? What do I use to teach them? What if they don't understand anything I say? What am I supposed to even do the first day?

Classes begin within a couple days and you become an instant celebrity. Everyone bows to you in the hallways, students giggle with excitement at your presence, and your coworkers want to know everything there is to know about you. You'll answer the same questions fifty times a day, "I am American", "I am 31 years old", "No, I do not have a boyfriend", "I don't know what my blood type is", "Yes, I like Korean food", "Yes, I know how to use chopsticks".

The first month, you learn to get into the grove quickly and you learn to be prepared for sudden changes. Adaptation becomes part of your life, a necessary quality. You learn to make friends wherever you can. You learn to be respectful and careful about everything you do. You learn to be stared at, gawked at, pointed at, questioned and sometimes even avoided. (in the proceeding months you learn that the last sentence doesn't change)

Month Two - The month of a thousand bus trips.
Now that I had the hang of what to do at school, a bank account, internet, a routine of how to get to and from my bus stops and the grocery store, and where the closest ATM was it was time to explore this country further. The adventurous spirit kicks in and I spent almost every weekend exploring a new area of my city or a different city. I visited friends in Seoul, I went on many hiking adventures, I filled my weekend with festivals, I ate bugs, I saw beautiful lanterns, I joined a drumming class, and I tried as many new foods as I could. Not only that but I attempted to recreate those dishes at home as well.

I was getting the hang of things, learning the bus system, developing my core group of friends and saying yes to everything. There was no rest in this month, no time to rest, only time to explore. I had ants in the pants, so-to-speak. I couldn't sit still, I wanted to see more and do more, constantly.

There was a constant need for socialization as well. If I went all day at school, barely speaking bits of English, then home to be alone (which was a pretty new experience for me personally), I would feel secluded and a burning desire to just talk in my native tongue, for as long as I was able to. My friends must have felt the same way because weeknight dinners were quite common in that second month. We relied on each other heavily, and while no one really spoke about it too much at the time, socializing and speaking to each other in English as often as possible, was a much needed requirement for getting adjusted to the new world we lived in.

The staring, gawking, and pointing from native Koreans became even more apparent in the second month, except I started to get a little less uncomfortable, a little more accustomed to it, and even had a "yes I'm new and exciting aren't I?" attitude towards it. It wasn't so bad, it wasn't done with any sort of malice, I was just interesting to them, and hey there's nothing wrong with that right?

Month Three - This is my hood.
Month three began with a bang. I went on the most amazing and most difficult adventure of my life which was a wonderful way to close out a full month of scurrying around South Korea seeing as much as I could see. I needed to sit back, relax and become accustomed to my new life. And that I did. Adventures became few and far between in this month as I settled into a routine. I was going to the gym every day, still doing drumming classes, weekly dinners with friends, and even began an art class.

I knew how to get around the city, where my favorite bars and restaurants were, which convenience stores had the best sandwiches for a late night snack, how to avoid getting ripped off by a cab driver, and what I needed to say in a restaurant to order food, ask for more water, compliment the dish, and the like. I was paying bills, complaining about the crazy drivers, cooking at home more, eating out less and using a trip to the grocery store as my adventure of the week. I was boring and I enjoyed it.

This was my neighborhood now, I could show others around and get to and fro without even being conscious of the path I was taking. I got used to seeing the same people on my bus to work, walking around my neighborhood, and doing laps in the park across the street. This when the stares, and gawks and pointing started to become a bit annoying. I was tired of it, I felt like enough already. I avoided eye contact, I attempted to pretend I didn't notice the looks when I got on the bus or the ajummas talking about me at the bus stop. I couldn't even walk down the alley to my street without hearing "waygook!" - "Yes, I get it, I'm different, look at me, all different and what not." I just wanted to get from point A to point B without being noticed, just once.

I would say in the third month of being here that I became so accustomed to life in Korea that it was almost as if I wasn't even aware that I was living in a foreign country. It was just home, I had my routine, I had my life here, it was my hood. I even began to blog and post less because things that may have felt strange and exciting in the beginning were normal to me now. If I saw a lady who had dyed her dogs ears and tail to match her outfit, I hardly even noticed anymore. I wouldn't post a picture about it on facebook with a snarky or clever comment and it certainly wasn't blog-worthy. It was just Korea.

Month Four - Whoa, wake up Shira.
The fourth month of my experience was a bit of a wake up call. One I needed and welcomed. It was a month full of holidays that reminded me of home. Thanksgiving was particularly difficult, I missed home, I missed my family. But our little group of friends pulled together and with a little creativity and a lot of resourcefulness, made a feast that was as close to the real thing as you can possibly get here in Korea. We stuck together through the holidays and by the time the New Year approached we had this whole "Western holiday in the East" routine down pat. I even managed to learn how to make zucchini latkes for my Chanukah dinner. Each of us struggled during at least one of the holidays with a bit of homesickness. I had been through this routine during Rosh Hashanah, and even Halloween made me a little nostalgic. But those were one at a time. This period of the fourth month incorporated holiday after holiday, reminder after reminder that you weren't home.

And it woke me up.

I wasn't sad. I was suddenly incredibly proud of myself. I remember sitting at my window, watching the snow come down, thinking of how I never expected Korea to be this cold when it hit me like a tone of bricks.

I live in South Korea.

...

I live in South Korea.

I pay my bills here, I get around in a country where I hardly speak the language as if it's not an issue at all. I go grocery shopping, I joke around with my coworkers about speaking Konglish, I made friends with the man at my convenience store who likes to tease me about what I purchase. I have a gym membership and I know the regulars. I live in South Korea people! How cool is that? I'm proud of myself. I'm proud of my friends who have done the same as me. I'm taking it all in again like it's brand new. I stop and make myself appreciate the little things. Like the ajumma and ajusshi arguing on the street corner (ajummas always win), the stance you have to master so you don't fall over on a moving bus, the skill of wrapping a piece of kimchi around a wad of rice, the unusual but amusing love and admiration my Korean coworkers have for Audrey Hepburn, the overwhelming adorableness of Korean babies!

The staring and gawking is still there, and I can't say I'm 100% used to it. I guess it depends on my mood nowadays. Sometimes I could care less, I'm doing my thang, you can look if you want. Sometimes I feel almost embarrassed and still avoid eye contact. Sometimes I just want to turn around and say "WHAT?!" But I have accepted the fact that it's a part of my life here. And I'm too excited and proud of myself that I have a life here to let it affect me too much.

To come...
Who knows? It's only been four months and I already feel like I've hit every emotion, every low and every high since I said goodbye to Itai at the airport. And I'm only one third of the way through this process. I'm excited to see what's coming. I'm excited to compare Korea to two Southeast Asian countries which I am sure will only make me appreciate SoKo even more. I'm excited to finish paying off my debt and watch my savings grow. I'm excited for life now and for what's coming down the pipeline.

My blogs and posts may not be as frequent as before, but that's only because I'm now getting fully adjusted into my life and I'm actually living rather than spending loads of time talking about living. I promise I will continue to keep you all posted on what's happening with me. You can look forward to a blog about my trip to Vietnam, and one about my adventure in Thailand. I also plan on writing at least two blogs on the food I've experienced here so get excited. Until then, I've got laundry to do in a washing machine where I still can't read the buttons but I know which ones to hit.

For putting up with a picture-less rant, here are some photos of some of the things I have been up to in the last month or so...