Sheepish.

So it's been a while.  I don't apologize, though, because nothing's more boring to read than bloggers apologizing for not blogging more.  But it's been so long that I couldn't remember how to log in to make new posts.  Turns out that I'm automatically logged in if I've already logged on (sorry if switching from "in" to "on" gives any ESL people a fit) to my g-mail account.

Anyways, as promised, let me tell you about my arrival in Korea.  My arrival story is not necessarily typical, because arrangements were more convenient for me than for other people from some stories I've heard.  Still, I think anyone who will go through the kind of arrival I went through should be forewarned.

All I knew when I left my home in Orlando was that I would be met by a Mr. Kim (OK, that part of the story is probably typical) at the terminal after I landed, and that he would direct me to my "coach" to take me to my apartment.  But, after a sleepless day-and-a-half of travel, "terminal" came to mean "gate" in my mind.  So, I was expecting helpful Mr. Kim to rescue the confused American as soon as I stepped off the plane.  Unfortunately, by that time it had been a while since I last used a bathroom, so I beelined it first thing in the airport and hoped Mr. Kim would be able to track me down.  Shouldn't be too hard to spot the white guy, right?  Priorities taken care of, I returned to the gate only to find it empty except for the flight crew exiting the plane (No, I was not that long in the bathroom; the crew just must have been eager to get home, let's say.).  Hmm, what to do next.

So I headed in the direction I had seen everyone else go, until I found a help desk guy.  He couldn't really help me much when I asked if he knew about a Mr. Kim.  He did have a phone, though, and was able to put me through to the Korean agent (props Jane) who had helped me through the hiring and paperwork process and was there to coordinate things between me, my school, and Mr. Kim.  She let me know that I needed to first pass through customs, and that I would then see Mr. Kim holding a sign with my name.  So I followed her directions, and got in the line for non-Koreans (though everyone else in that line could have fooled me), and then proceeded to baggage claim.

It would be about another 20 minutes before I finally found my luggage, because by the time I made it through customs everyone else on my flight was long gone and I couldn't just follow them to the right place.  I did find my bags, though, right as airport workers were piling them with the other unclaimed items.  Still no Mr. Kim, but I was getting close.  There was one last security check before I was free to enter the country, and a quick money exchange, and after that I finally found my way to what must have been the terminal.  And sure enough, there was my man, holding a "Ryan" sign.

OK, so far in the story, any forewarning a future arrivee (-er?) in Korea could use is to not be a klutzy foreigner.   But what happened next, though very convenient for me and perfectly OK, could be a little uncomfortable for some people, especially girls.  Mr. Kim, who didn't speak a lick of English and had no way of explaining to me exactly what his role was in all this, took my bags from me (nice of him) and threw them in a minivan.  He then motioned for me to get in the van as he got in the driver's seat.  He was an older man and pretty slight, and I had no reason not to trust him.  But you can imagine how it feels to be on your own in a strange place with no idea what's happening next and no idea who it is you're getting in a vehicle with, so be forewarned.

That really concludes the story as it could be of help to anyone else.  As you can see, Koreans did everything they could to make my arrival easy, but they hadn't accounted for my ability to make it difficult.  Meanwhile I've heard of other teachers who were on their own to figure out how to use public transit to get from the airport to their apartments.  I don't know how I could have pulled that off.  Instead, poor helpful Mr. Kim--who in the end was just a driver and not a worker for the school or the recruiting agency or anything--must have waited over an hour for me to finally show my small face (I'll get to that expression in a later post).

The rest of my story has me riding in the van through Seoul traffic for a couple hours; falling asleep after Mr. Kim had me talk on his phone with agent Jane who wanted to know how things were going; finally getting to my apartment building, to be greeted (with a nice "Hello!") by one of my Korean co-teachers (Sunny Teacher!), who told me the cab ride was "service" (Kenglish for "free")  and then showed me in to my apartment and left me with some things to munch and directions for the following day, a school day.  I discovered that I was to live in an apartment large enough for a medium-sized family (not typical, but in a welcomed way, again), and that it was decently furnished, most importantly with a large bed and warm comforter (it was already cold here in mid-October).  My co-teacher then left me alone to enjoy that bed, and I did until about 3:30 a.m. thanks to jet-lag (a trend for a few days).  The next morning, she picked me up to head to school, meet the principal, introduce myself to some of my classes, and begin my new job.  The new job is further material for another post.  Hopefully I'll write that up before too long, there really is a lot to write about!

Until that happens, anyeongi kaseyo!

Anyong haseyo, and welcome to Beauvaisia!

I have been in Korea almost a week now, and it’s about time I blog for the folks back home.  As an English teacher (in the making), I’m trained to teach students to always keep in mind their purpose and audience when writing.  Well, my purposes—closely linked to intended audiences—are to keep a record of my time here for myself, to demystify what I’m up to for those I’ve left behind, and to help any prospective English teachers in Korea get a feel for what they could be in for.  If I’m in the mood, I reserve the right to get a little personal, pedagogical, or philosophical as well.

So, since this is my first post and I’ve already been here 6 full days, let me catch you up to speed.  From what I can tell, there are several avenues by which you can find yourself teaching English in Korea, with two of the more common being teaching in a public school (with EPIK, GEPIK, or SMOE) and teaching at a hagwon (a private, for-profit English institution).  If you get a job in a public school, your circumstances are relatively predictable and standardized across the board.  The hagwons, which many students attend in the afternoon in addition to their public schooling, can be legitimate and good situations too, but it’s a crap-shoot.  So says my research.

Personally, I am teaching at a GEPIK elementary school in Maseok, part of the Namyangju area of the Gyeounggi province (don’t hold me to correct spelling of anything Korean).  I’m about 40 minutes outside of Seoul, but civilization is basically continuous (mountains aside) from central Seoul to where I am, so it’s hard to tell where Seoul starts and where it stops.  Props to Dan Henrickson and the crew at www.teacheslkorea.com for guiding me through to process of getting a job in Korea (once I had my paperwork in order, it took shockingly little time—about 4 weeks total—before I was hired and boarding the plane to cross the Pacific), and for hooking me up with my specific job.  So far, I have felt nothing but pampered and spoiled by the school staff (after 4 days here, the only food I had eaten that I had paid for was a bowl of cereal…and the milk was given to me) and students, and I’m not cynical enough about Koreans yet to believe that it’s because they hope to gain anything by me.  Anything other than my English, that is, which nobody in America ever gave a hoot about.

Well, lingering jetlag requires that I wrap this up, so I will get into more about my arrival and first few days in Korea at a later date.  Until then, remember me when you wear shoes inside your house and when you jab at a piece of steak with your fork.  Things certainly are different over here.

-Koryan Beauvaisia (it was meant to be)