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!
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