Temple Stay + Chuseok

I was determined, by whatever means necessary, to do a temple stay in my time here in Korea. I’ve (at this point in time) accomplished this twice. I think I want to get one more in before I leave. I have stayed at the same place because a) it’s easy to get to (now), b) I really like the location, and c) the first time I went, the head and regular monks were away to a different temple and the monk who we saw spoke no English and was sick. Not that my first stay was anything to cringe at, it was fabulous, but I really wanted to be able to ask some questions and get some insightful answers. First, I’ll talk about my first time going and then I’ll add in some small details about my second time (though with me, nothing is ever small).

I mentioned that I wanted to do a temple stay at my school. The other two female foreign teachers also expressed interest in it. This was great because the more, the merrier, and it was really fun. We searched online and eventually decided to go for the Lotus Lantern International Meditation Center. It was located fairly close-ish, but still far enough away that we felt like we were going on a retreat. Also, their website told about being very foreigner friendly. We were still babies to Korea and this was highly attractive. We booked our rooms and our weekend was set.

Here’s the thing about not being able to speak or read Korean. You make mistakes. You misjudge distances, end up paying $30 for a cab, hop on a bus (thinking it will only take about an hour or so, but ends up taking close to four hours), and are almost late for your own retreat. Safe to say, after showing our bus driver the small note I had written about fifteen times, we missed our stop by one (thankfully), and had to walk about 5km back to our original stop before going along the dirt path to our temple. We were late, but it was okay because we were told when we got there that we had guest monks, the schedule was all messed-up, and we would be winging it most of the time.

That’s an exaggeration; we weren’t really told that, we were just told it was okay when we got there. However, we did find all that out by the time our overnight stay was over.

We changed into the “uniform.” This consisted of purple pants, a grey shirt, and a purple vest. At first, I thought they were quite ugly, but then I put them on and immediately changed my mind. Talk about comfort, these things were on point. Please madam, may I have twelve more?

We were shown to our room and, like almost all Korean places, the floors were heated. Deliciously warm on my feet. Oh yes, oh yes.

Then, we watched a short video (in Korean) about how to function on the temple grounds. What should we do when we met a monk, how we should bow in front of the Buddha, how we should act and speak in different buildings, etc. After this, we were shown the kitchen. (We included my two co-workers, me, and another foreign teacher, public school, and a woman who was coming to rest from back pain and stress). We were informed that typically, there was a cook for the temple, but she was not there that weekend. It seemed like everyone had left, but that was to be expected. It was going to be Buddha’s Birthday soon.

We prepared a completely vegetarian, perhaps even vegan, dinner and yes, yes, yes. It was freaking amazing. It tasted wicked yummy and I had to hold myself back from pigging out. I’m a bit of a food-junkie. If I like it, I want to shove my face in it. Or cradle it lovingly in my stomach. All of the food is mine, my own, my…precious. Ha, forgive the dork-reference.

We then retired to have some tea because tea is life. It was actually pretty special tea actually, according to our host. She lives at the temple and helps take care of the monks. The tea, she told is, was made from fermented tea leaves. This type of fermentation was unique, or something like that, and it originated from China. Or maybe the tea came from China. I’m not sure. All I knew was that it was yummy in my mouth and I wanted to drink all of the tea. Which I could because screw it. If we have extra stomachs for ice cream, I have an extra stomach for tea. Watch out, cows, if you aren’t careful, I’ll have more stomachs than you.

We had a bit of a late night, chatting quietly in our room (which was a bit hot for me, I wanted the window open, but the others may have gotten cold), and the morning wake-up knock seemed to come too soon for my liking. However, we got up and went to the shrine. It was quite lovely, that early in the morning, when all was silent. That is to say, it was lovely at all times, but it was especially lovely because there was nothing to distract me from its beauty.

We did our morning chats then went off to meditate. It was the most amazing experience to clear my mind and just sit, completely still, while the sun rose and the world awoke around me. The door panels were wide open and the view was just the grass and trees of our temple. Being able to listen to the birds start to wake up and sing their little songs of life, that right there made my trip worthwhile. After meditation was breakfast (a mish-mosh of things which included some mushroom soup we made the night before which none of us –meaning foreign teachers- could handle first thing in the morning), then back to our room for cleaning, then another sitting meditation, and we wrapped up the morning with a walking meditation. It was greatly, we went on a jaunt through the woods, discovered the tomb of someone who I can’t recall (I think he was important in that region), and just watched the dogs play. When we returned to the temple, we wrapped up with working mediation (weeding the garden), a calligraphy lesson, and finally coffee with the monk before we decided to head back to our home.

Getting home was much easier than getting to the temple. We didn’t even get lost once, though we almost though we were going to get turned around.

Overall, the stay was quite grand. And I loved being able to play with the dog. She’d grown up at the temple and basically had free reign during all times, but meal times. It was quite sad to have to say goodbye to her.

This being said, my second time was a bit different. I didn’t get lost or turned around (it also didn’t take me as long to get there, I arrived very early in fact), but instead of a regular weekend retreat, I went for an “intensive meditation” retreat. It was over the Chuseok holiday (Chuseok is comparable to a Korean-Thanksgiving. It is a time for feasting. However, where Thanksgiving is where you celebrate being thankful for your loved ones currently alive, Chuseok focuses more on being with your family to celebrate and honor your ancestors). I was looking forward to doing some meditation. There was a real discontent growing in me since I came back from Japan which was driven primarily from my increasingly realistic dreams of running way into the wilderness. I realized that I missed the quiet, I missed nature, and I needed to get away.

When they say intense, it was pretty intense for never having really done more than thirty minutes at a time. I was meditating for seven and a half or eight hours a day. Thankfully (or maybe not), I only stayed for almost three days (I didn’t stay the full third day because reasons, none of which had to do with the retreat and all had to do with personal issues, I was sad). The regular monks were back, the cook was back, and it was great to be there. I was the only foreigner there, so I stuck out like a sore thumb. Thankfully, everyone there was very polite. I was even told that I sat very well during the long meditations and my fellow retreat-goers were impressed that I came for something like this at all. Perhaps they’d never seen a foreigner doing a retreat before. I prefer to think that is the case rather than thinking that an American had gone to a retreat with them and then proceeded to act terribly.

I was able to have dharma talks over green tea with the head monk. He was very insightful and helped to quiet the voices in my head with some nice words of wisdom. He also told me about some of the old Korean beliefs about tree spirits which I loved. I still want to run away into the wilderness, but I’m better equipped at dealing with my issues (also, I still don’t know how to start a flint-fire). We didn’t really have a lot of free time, either. Everything was pretty regimented for us, which was fine with me. It was nice to have a routine.

Again, one of my favorite parts was the first meditation of the day. Getting to watch the world light up with energy around me as I sat in my grey room, all at once a part of and set away from the world. It was cute that, because the dog is quite attached to the head monk, she would wait outside the meditation area, sitting nicely, looking out into the world while we meditated. And if anything moved that she didn’t approve of, she’d be up and bounding away to check it out. It was like having our own personal body guard. If we ever needed it.

I think the hardest part, the hardest part, was the bowing. Not just once or twice, the full-on, something like 99 or 103…whatever, bows done before lunch time. My quads would be full-on burning by the time we were done. Which we weren’t actually done, we had more to do while we were chanting, and we just got breaks in between.

The food was still fantastic. Even better this time because the cook was back. And it was interesting because one of the monks there is from Russia. Hearing him speak to me or speak in Korean was fascinating because of the Russian accent – what a cool guy.

We didn’t take any long walks or do any of the working meditation (like weeding or planting), but on the few free time breaks that we had, I walked around the grounds and spent a lot of time watching the koi fish. I think one of the monks was amused by me because he stood next to my crouched form for a while before leaving and getting some fish food. Then he went about feeding them and laughing at my excitement as they all came close enough for me to touch (if I really wanted to touch them – I didn’t).

Getting back was as much of an adventure as it was the first time. I went all the way to the bus stop only to realize that I left my bus pass and my Nook on the shoe rack. Apologizing profusely to one of the helpers who drove the car, he laughed at me (and I think he wanted to bonk me on the head) and drove me to the bus terminal instead of the stop. I notice this is a theme around many of the Koreans I’ve encountered. They laugh and, softly, smack me a lot. I’m not sure if this is because I’m funny, ridiculous, or a combination of both. I’m leaning toward the middle, but the last could be a definite possibility. I was waiting around for a particular bus, twiddling my thumbs, double checking the route, until some older men pointed at me. I thought I was doing something wrong but one of the older ones (an ajashi –a Korean word, polite, that refers to an old man-) spouted off a bunch of Korean. The only thing I really understood was ‘no bus.’ When I nodded my head, he pushed me over to a different schedule and then asked where I was going. I responded ‘Geomam Yeog’ –Geomam Station- and he laughed at me. (I’m not making it up! I’m laughed at all the time!) He pointed to the bus right in front of my face and told me that this one would take me there. I thanked him and then shyly walked onto the bus to scan my card.

Who knew that holidays would change the bus routes and times?

My room where I stayed with the other two foreign teachers.

The cute puppy who guarded us!

Tea ceremony with our hostess from the first visit. The tea was a special type of Chinese fermented tea.

The meditation room

Main Buddha and the lanterns

Natural spring water and koi fish pond. The water was wicked refreshing and you drank from the spoons on the stone pillar!

Outside of the main temple. During the first visit, the cherry blossoms were out and smelled wonderful. J’adore les.

Dark cloud staying over my head

I think of myself as female and when I’m in Western countries, it’s always fairly easy for people to look and think “female.”
Not so much in Korea. Unless I’m wearing clothes that reveal I do, in fact, have breasts, people tend to mistake me for a boy. Particularly my kids. But this isn’t about the people who mistake me for a boy, that’s more of a humorous thing for me. This is about the men who understand that I’m female and won’t leave me alone.

In the States, I’ve always had more close guy friends. Yes, I attended an all women’s institution, but during that time, I still kept in regular contact with my male cohorts. And I would visit them (or vice versa) fairly regularly.
But such is not the state of affairs in Korea. Recently (as in this evening), I confessed it was the thing I disliked about Korea the most. More than the amount of people, the amount of smoke in the air, and the lack of nature within walking distance. I disliked the inability to trust Korean men enough to want to talk to them more.

On more than one occasion, I’ve gone to a bus stop or a subway station. I’ve been sitting or standing, either listening to music or just waiting patiently. A Korean man (typically older than I am) has come up to me and said “hello.” Being polite, I always respond with a smile. I understand this may be encouraging them, but I still can’t bring myself to greet them any other way. They then start to casually talk to me, and this-this is good. I like casual conversations. How do I like Korea? What am I doing here? How long am I staying here? Do I like the food? What do I like to do in my spare time? Everything will be going fine until the question. The question that haunts my very mind and drives me to grind my teeth in frustration.
Do you have a boyfriend?
As always, I answer no (unless they are being very insistent on me coming with them before they ask, then I lie -unfortunately- and say yes). And the next question is always:
Will you be my girlfriend?

No. No, sir, I will not.
I don’t know your name. I don’t know where you live. I don’t know how old you are. You don’t know my name. How about asking to go to a coffee first? Or how about asking my damn name? Or maybe my age so you could see that I am too young for you.
Luckily I have lost the doe-eye look I first had when I came to Korea and I think this decreases the interest of Korean men. Rather, my resting “bitch” face has appeared (I swear, it’s not something I wear on purpose, but it seems my blank look is interpreted that way).

However, I am now skittish to respond back to any Korean man, young or a bit older, who talks to me because I’m never sure of their intentions. I want to be able to talk to them. I’d love to have a Korean guy friend. I’d love to have any guy friends here. I miss my dudes. My bros. I can’t goof around as much with the girls I have as friends, I feel like I’d push a boundary.
That’s what I’d do if I had a Korean male friend as well, though. I’ve learned that men and women aren’t friends here, not really. Unless they are older (into their 30s) and their opposite sex friend is someone they went to middle or high school with. They don’t really hang out one-on-one, unless they are dating. If two people from the opposite sex want to spend time together, they are usually in a large group. It’s just not something that’s looked as lightly upon here.
I think it is more detrimental for the girl because there are more assumptions on why she may be doing it. Why she isn’t hanging around with other females? Perhaps she is loser or there is something else wrong with her? Perhaps she is not heterosexual (but those people doesn’t exist in Korea).

I could write all about the stigmas here. Especially towards non-heterosexuals, but this short post would be too long. There are lots of things that I love about Korea. But there is one main thing that I dislike the most: the expectation that because I’m a single female, I must want a boyfriend. And because I must want a boyfriend, the best bet for me is to get a Korean boyfriend. I’m exotic here, of course, so why wouldn’t I want to date a Korean guy and have him treat me like a “princess.”
Pardon me when I go bring my eyes back from permanent roll position.

Has anyone had a similar experience or experiences in different places? Would love to hear some stories.

As always, best wishes,
-J

Spazzastic Part Three (Final)

A St. Patrick’s Day, five months in the making, has finally been able to shine brightly through this traveler’s wayward words.
Pffft, this isn’t that type of long-winded, verbose, or poetic blog.
I’ve been lazy, short, sweet, and simple. Okay, it’s not just laziness. It was also a lack of organization and the fact that I’ve been planning and experiencing many different things that the upkeep of this blog…it took a back-burning role.
But I do plan to keep a general schedule of an update every week or two. Perhaps more as I try to play catch up with all the time lost. That means going back to relive the events that passed weeks ago.
Starting with this: Adventure Number One!
The first week I was at school, the other foreign teachers and I had been talking about holidays. The one that came up first was St. Patrick’s Day. I’m only a bit Irish, so we usually just have corned beef and cabbage and potatoes and wear a bit of green (protection against pinching of course!). There are four foreign teachers (myself included), three of us are ladies and one is of the male persuasion. Well, the guy mentioned the St. Patrick’s Day Festival happening in Seoul. He’d been to it last year and said it was fun.
We all decided that it would be a great experience to try. It happened on March 15th and started at 12PM. Location: D-Cube Square. We got there when it first started, and it was already pretty packed.

As time went on, the crowd grew larger and larger.

We all stood in line to get our faces painted.

2 clovers, one flag, and then my clover with the Irish flag colors.

And of course, there was drinking. I didn’t partake in too much drinking, but we did start the moment we got there. Guinness was the beer/stout of my choice and I savored the creamy thickness. I will admit that I did some shots with the male teacher, R, in the back. I am not one to suffer any ideas that women can do less than men and when he made an off-comment that the ladies wouldn’t be able to handle partaking in vodka shots.
Well, I had to do my civic duty as one of the classiest of ladies and prove him wrong.

I had been in Korea for a couple weeks by this point and I was shocked to see so many foreign faces in the crowd. I suppose if I lived in Seoul, I wouldn’t have been shocked as much, but Cheongna lacks any large amount of foreigners (I think most, if not all, of them live in my building, but shyness prevents me from talking to them).
The other surprising thing for me. Trees. The square had lots of wonderful, climbable trees and it was one of the first things out of my mouth. I’m known from my friends for my fantastic amount of stubbornness. You tell me I can’t, I’m stubborn enough (or maybe just foolish enough) to show, most times, that I can. The other foreign teachers told me I couldn’t possibly be serious about climbing a tree. But oh yes, I was.
And oh yes, I found my tree.

I may be embarrassing, but at least I’m having a good time.

The co-teachers were a little surprised that I actually climbed and sat in the tree the whole time, but I was quite content. Back home, I climb lots of trees.

We watched some Irish dancing, saw a strange mix of step dancing music and a soccer player doing moves with a ball, and watched a concert. I can’t quite remember the name of the band (I’m not sure if I ever actually heard it) and I can’t find it anywhere in my searches. However, I’m pretty hopeless when it comes to technology, so I’m sure it’s actually quite easy to research if you are that determined.

The originally tight group all dispersed by 6PM. I decided to try and meet up with some Korean friends from college (sadly, they got back to me too late), but I ended up spending the night with another foreigner friend from college (also a teacher) in Yaksu (a cute district area outside Itaewan in Seoul). The other teachers decided to go to a follow-up party in Itaewan.
As a side note: Itaewan is considered the big foreign district in Seoul. It has many different sectors, each one belonging to a different group. It also is filled with different consulates. One in particular I thought had quite a pretty sign.

I was even more excited, at first, when I thought that was a unicorn.
I believe this is Thailand’s consulate.

I went to Itaewan with my friend on Sunday. She has church there and I decided to go with her for lunch. I didn’t stay much longer than that though, choosing to head back home to Incheon as that would take me about an hour to an hour and a half.
My last early adventure went quite well.

Up next: Temple Stay.

Spazzastic Part Two

I have a few more updates about my area of South Korea. Cheongna, if I haven’t already mentioned the name, is very up-and-coming. New buildings and stores every day (or close to it). I know my district fairly well. And gosh, district is a strange word to say. I almost feel like I’m in The Hunger Games series.
At any rate.
I found all the local cafes that I like to visit. I particularly like the ones that offer a soy alternative or ones that have a great tea selection. Including, hold your pants up, rooibos tea latte. I can’t believe it. I’ve never heard of anything like it before and my taste buds have never tasted something that fantastic in a long time. I have to stop myself from running out to get drink after drink.
As is normal with Korea, it does get smoggy/foggy/a mix of the two:

Mmmm, delicious.

I’ve gotten used to that though. Right now, in July, it’s supposed to be rainy/monsoon season. We have yet to have anything more than a few (very few) scattered showers. I think there has been maybe one thunderstorm since I got here in February. All my friends tell me that this weather is very unusual. All the humidity, none of the rain. It’s quite strange.

The Asian games are going to be hosted in my city, Incheon. I want to attend some of the events (soccer/football and equestrian), but that all depends on the price, location, and time. On one of my longer walks, I found a blueprint to show what one of the new stadiums will look like:

The stadium is almost finished. The architecture is quite lovely in person.

I eventually walked to the point of no path. The dirt didn’t bother me though!

I’ve seen and experienced some interesting things. I went to a dog cafe:

Puppies~

The jury is still out as to how I felt about the treatment of the lab puppy. Yes, they loved all the dogs there. But there wasn’t enough room for such a large dog. And I don’t think they were feeding him enough.
I took it with the most open mind I could and I went back two or three more times before I just couldn’t bare to see the puppies not be outside playing in the grass and dirt and water.

I’ve seen some gorgeous sunsets:

From the rooftop of my apartment building.

From the long dirt path walk.

And then there are things that I just can’t quite explain…

Enjoy the history of beef intestines, with pop-up pictures, followed by a puppet show!

Yes, the picture shows everything. It’s a place you go to ride fake horses. I still need to go and detail the experience.

I think they were moving something…maybe. Or it’s a “secret” escape route.

Still haven’t figured out why there were cacti there and ONLY there. Under no other tree. I checked.

And then there are the obviously-need-to-be-included “aawwww” moments from my school:

My 9-year old English-name twin.

I celebrated my first birthday away from any family. One of my 10-year old students wrote me this.

The cutest thing about the above note is that she misspells birthday. But she has a Korean lisp, so all her “th” sounds naturally come out as “s.” If that doesn’t make you smile a little, I’ll shake my head in your general direction.

Now that the pictures are finished, just some more thoughts from Part Two.
School has its ups and downs, just like anything else. We are getting ready to do TOEFL testing on the higher level elementary classes in August. I took the TOEFL Junior test and missed four questions. I was highly pissed at myself. Particularly because one was phrased like this: “I hope your summer has _____ well. Mine has! We have one and a half months left of summer vacation.” I said “been going” because summer is not yet over, but the correct answer was “gone.” However, I was never taught verb tenses other than past/present/future. Perhaps it’s because it was talking about the past, therefore gone? Eh. Two of the questions were about word choices to replace the word in the text. One was reproduced. I was stuck between cloned and repeated. I picked repeated. Correct answer was cloned. I can’t remember the other word off the top of my head. I know it was another case where I was torn between the right answer and the one that I chose.
Aside from that, I love my school. I think I work with the best people I could ever imagine working with in Korea. They are supportive, helpful, caring, and they genuinely are happy to see you and talk with you. I can’t necessarily say the same about some of the parents of our students, but I’m not here to rant.
My art skills are improving quite nicely. I am a beast with stick figures and basic drawings now. Particularly with dry erase markers and a board. Teaching art class has taught me to perfect “fake it ’til you make it.”

The weather here in summer is intense, especially the humidity. That being said, it’s also quite nice because at night and during the day, I get to hear more of nature.
I leave you with one last little video clip of the first loud signs of nature I found without leaving my central area for a park.

-J

Continued in Part Three

Spazzastic Part One

It’s been a while since I’ve uploaded a post. Mainly because I’ve been too busy with life here in this interesting, new, crazy country, but also because I haven’t exactly known where to start.
Teaching is exactly and exactly not what I expected. I knew that I wasn’t going to have the time of my life working with 4-5 year olds, five to six hours a day. But I never would have predicted I would be so loved by them. The adoration from some of them is like how I expect rock stars to feel. I walk down the halls and kids call out “J- teacher!” and reach their hands towards me. I’m not the most physical of people and this causes me to either freeze or make dodging attempts that would put The Matrix to shame. Eventually though, they always manage to latch onto my waist or thighs.
I also never imagined that I would enjoy elementary as much as I do. I mean, my favorite age groups are 8-10/11 year olds and I’m glad that those are the ages I normally teach, but I never thought I would like them as much as I do. I actually look forward to working with them and I wish I could work with them longer or teach them more. Not to say that I like every student, I don’t, but I also don’t greatly dislike any of them.
It’s something for me to look forward to everyday. After a trying day with Kindergartners, I get to take a load off with elementary. Get my work done and then play ‘games’ with the students. The game is frequently build-a-man, my school’s less morbid version of Hangman, and the words/clues are always vocabulary words.

The language-barrier is hard. I’m picking things up decently, but I can hardly speak and forget writing. Slowly, with the help of the teachers, it’s getting easier. I learned how to say delicious recently (pronounced mashisoyo). The reading will come eventually (maybe). For now, it is enough that I learn some little words.

I’m in a very up-and-coming urban area. There are a lot of richer people around. There is construction every day, nearly all day long. New things are opening all the time, which is exciting, but I do miss grass, trees, and fresh air. I never was one for cities. Thankfully, there are some nice places nearby and an old fresh air market is a quick bus ride away! There are supposed to be smaller mountains near here as well, so I may try to look into that this weekend. Mainly for the fresh air, if the yellow dust level isn’t too high. I’ll explain more about yellow dust later.
After my first week here, I got sick. It’s taken a while to feel better, but with the mix of my body getting used to the food, used to the atmosphere, working, etc. etc. (more from my sad violin) it’s understandable. I am feeling better though, which is great. And, I didn’t have to receive one of the infamous butt shots.
I live in the Yeonhi/Yeongui/Yeonghee (variations of the romanization) district that borders the Cheongna district. I regularly shop at Home Plus and Lotte Mart (the Target and Wal-Mart of Korea), which are both withing view of my apartment building. I did manage to stumble across a small fresh foods store next to Lotte Mart, which is adorable and I prefer shopping there if I can. Like I said before, this area is all new. On my morning walks I encounter new shops opening all the time. I’ve promised myself to try all the food places. My list is, so far, miserably incomplete.
It is so quiet in the morning when people aren’t out yet. Korea doesn’t wake up until around 9-10AM, which is still a bit strange for me. However, it is wicked awesome for my walks or runs. It gives me time to see the city get up and I have the streets almost completely to myself.
A bit farther from my apartment is the Bear’s Best gold course. There is quite a nice walk around the pond in the center of the course that birds (particularly ducks) like to visit.

It’s always nice to see wildlife making a home despite all the urban settings. I haven’t been here as often as I’d like, but I’m sure as it warms up and staying out later is no problem, I’ll get there more.

Continued in Part Two.

This is only uploaded a week after writing it

It’s the 21^st of February, 11:50PM, and I still can’t seem to fall asleep. I need to be up in less than three hours to get ready to leave my house for Boston at 3:50AM. At 1AM, I finally decide to stop unpacking and repacking, to stop obsessively looking over to make sure I have all my paperwork, and to lie down on top of my bed. Not under the covers. I just washed those. Can’t use the pillows. I just washed those pillow cases as well. So I grab the towel I used this morning, rolled it into a ball, threw some other blankets on top of the bed, and burrowed into my little nest.

And I sat there. And sat there. I closed my eyes, I counted my breaths in a 10-count, over and over and yet, still, all I did was lie there. After an hour goes by, I finally decide at 2:15AM, that enough is enough. I get up, go about the last of my routine, pack some last minute items (and those gosh-darn jeans didn’t dry, so I rolled them up, stick them in a plastic bag, and hope that the mildew smell doesn’t arise in 24 hours). I can’t eat. I feel like I’m never going to be able to meet again (a thought that, as I’m writing this a day later, feels quite silly). My stomach is in the tightest knot I can ever remember it twisting. This is worse than the first time I did a public speech. I’m in a cold sweat, more so than when I did my first musical. I wish I could announce that I was excited too, but I’m just a shaking-Chihuahua-like ball of nerves. When my Gramp gets up a little while later, he has no problem downing a cuppa and some toast. I want to feel envy, but the thought of anything other than water takes me somewhere I’d rather not consider.

I could cry and moan about how much airports suck and get furious over the $100 extra bag charge (that only United charged me for, Asiana gave me two bags), but as far as airports go, I like Logan. The people are nice. Security was great, wicked nice, very supportive. And when I got into O’Hare in Chicago, people there were nice for the most part (there was one security guard who was freaking out over the boxes and how you must stay in an exactly single file line as close to the wall as possible). I needed help figuring out how to get to the international terminal and everyone was incredibly happy and considerate. I think the ease of it all helped me get down 3 Odwella (or is it Odwalla) fruit smoothies. Something other than water, right?

I gave most people I know a last minute text or phone call at O’Hare airport in Chicago. Let them know where I am; let them know that I’ll update them when I get to Korea. And I will, somehow. Probably email for everyone but the few friends I have on Skype or Twitter. A 14-15 hour time difference (I still haven’t figured it out) makes it difficult, but I’ll figure it out eventually.

I’m still on the plane, but I only have another hour or two left. Thank you, heavens/ancestors/flying spaghetti monster. I don’t know if I can stand being on here for any longer. I feel gross. I’ve walked around a little bit, but it’s not a very long plane (surprisingly) and I always feel like I’m trespassing major when I step into anything higher than my fellow traveler’s class passengers. It hasn’t been a bad flight. The attendants have been friendly and sweet, always ready to help. I will tell you though; I don’t think it’s possible to get dehydrated on Asiana. I feel bloated because I have a hard time saying no to a drink. I’ve gotten one every single time it’s come around. Not to mention I’ve downed my Batman thermos full of water. They’ve also fed me, a lot. That was my earlier note about how silly I was before. I’m still a rack of nerves and probably shouldn’t have eaten so much, but it all smelled delicious. And it was. They first gave out little snack packs with pretzels, peanuts and cheesy sticks. Then they came by with lunch/dinner trays. I got bibimbap. It was yummy! It came with these little tiny fish, tiny tiny fish (later I found out they were anchovies), and I ate them up. I didn’t over-think it. If you do, I don’t know if you’d be able to eat them, considering you at them whole. Heads and all. All these little eyes staring at you. At first I thought they were tiny noodles or alfalfa beans sprouts, but they were yummy anyway. So I finished them up. Then there was some Pollock soup? My guess was chicken (because it obviously isn’t going to be derogatory-term-for-a-Polish-person-soup, that would have been mean and I would have refused to eat it, no matter how hungry I was), but I think it may have been fish. I don’t question these things. And a side of kimchi. And a side of fruit. With more drink and coffee/tea after. Then they came around to give you something more to drink and a small sub sandwich (which, by the way, wasn’t soggy or anything plane-sandwich-like). I feel like I got something else to eat after that, but that could have been a dream. But then they came again with the lunch box things. I got spicy octopus with rice and a fruit cup and kimchi and cucumber salad and a roll with butter.

And they give this to you all while near constantly coming out with juices and other drinks. You can bet I was downing that orange and tomato juice. Vitamin C overdose please! Can’t afford to be sick right when I get to Korea. I refuse it.

Other than that it’s been fine. I watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 and The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. The first was good, I liked it. The second? Eh. I could have gone without. No one needs another fairly emotionless Bella Swan from Twilight, eh?

Memorable things? They gave me little airplane slippers on Asiana. I’m going to keep them for my apartment. They’re quite comfy. And they provide toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, and mouthwash in the bathrooms in little plastic individual bags. Also great for such a long flight. On my United flight from Boston to Chicago, I was in a window seat crammed in with a family of people that spanned the row. They were on their way to Hawaii. The mother was immediately next to me. She had brought Dunkin Donuts onto the plane, so I smelled that first thing in the morning (breakfast sandwiches and my stomach said no thank you). She was a little odd. Like, makes me shake my head because I don’t understand how that class of citizen lives. The family had money, which was easy to tell. But she brought out a tabloid and proceeded to read it and have her family read it like tabloids are actually real news. I wanted to be nice and point out that the majority of the articles were fake or highly exaggerated, but she seemed so into them that I couldn’t take away her fun. My Asiana flight’s seats are set up in 3-3-3. There is no middle person in my 3 section, but my row-mate has decided that the second seat is obviously hers and has spent most of the flight sprawled out on two seats sleeping away with my pillow and blanket. I put them to the side of my seat when I went up to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, they were under her head as a pillow and I was left with nada.

So it’s been a mix of good and bad, but nothing horrible and that’s nice. I don’t think I have the phone number for my school. Which is startling for me because I need to put that on my custom’s forms, but hopefully that doesn’t matter? I can show them my Visa, hopefully that will help to show that it’s a-okay.

Oh my gosh. I’m going to be in Korea. I’m going to be living here. In my own apartment. And I forgot to bring sheets and a towel. Damn. Okay. Hopefully someone can show me a bank and the nearest store to get those things. I have no idea what’s going on after I get off the plane other then I pick up my luggage, I go through customs and then I look for a guy holding a sign with my name on it. I feel like I smell bad. I probably smell bad. I hope I’m not going to the school right way. I don’t want them to think that I smell bad normally. I don’t know as much Korean as I would have hoped to know, but at least I can say hello formally and informally like a pro! And I can recite the vowels and write them like a pro as well. Bam! I’m amazing.

-J