Take It Easy

It's been three weeks (almost), since I landed in Korea.  My first weekend, I explored my town, Dangjin.  I walked around and found the necessary items for at least a couple of weeks.  I stumbled upon the open market on the off-day.  While there are still cute, little old ladies selling their goods, the real action happens on the 5th and 10th day of the month.

The weekend after was Chuseok, Koreans version of Thanksgiving.  During this time, people visit their family members and pay tribute to their ancestors by cleaning their graves.  Since my one family member lives in Ulsan, I ventured there with my trusted phrasebook and hoped I wouldn't get too lost.  Daejeon is about 1.5 hours from Dangjin and a major city where I needed to transfer to catch the bus to Ulsan.  When I arrived in Daejeon and I was dropped off...somewhere.  I got a little lost and when I found my way back 20 minutes later, I realized that I had been dropped off just across the street from the main bus terminal.  Next time, I will take the time to read the signs rather than just following the flow of people.  Since it was a major holiday, I waited another 3.5 hours for the next open seat on the bus.  The trip that would normally take 4 hours turned into an 8 hour journey.  It's still better than Gilligan's 3 hour tour!  But I finally arrived in Ulsan to see Mysti!  We went and had dinner with Janna, where we ordered way too much food.  We really need to pay better attention to the menus and stop thinking we can eat like "Gilmore Girls".  Then off to my first Norebong experience with out new Korean friends.  Yeah, I can't believe I actually went to a karaoke room and sang.  I blame the soju.  Then we went and played one of the beach side games where you pop the ballon with the darts and we all won stuffed "Hello, Kitty" heads.  Again, I had a lot of soju.  The next day, Mysti and I explored Ulsan as we walked through the open market and Old Downtown.  Later that evening, we stopped to eat some street food and had a drink at a bar.  On Chuseok, we went "hiking" at Ilsan Beach.  One thing I had heard prior to coming to Korea was that some girls actually go on these hiking trails in heels.  While I knew I would see such sights, it did still raise my eyebrows.  Then again, I went in my flip flops.  We enjoyed the beautiful scenery and got a little exercise.

After Chuseok, I had 2 days of teaching before the weekend.  Although, I have been here for three weeks, I still don't feel as if I have settled into my job.  I split my time between 2 schools.  My main school, I teach the 5th and 6th graders with an average of 22 students in each class.  My second school, there are only about 40 students in the entire school.  I teach all but the two 4th graders.  It is amazing how class sizes matter.  At my main school, my 5th and 6th graders think that English class is their fun time and are completely out of control.  Some days, they are pretty well-behaved; other times, the 40 minutes can't end fast enough.  I have started to use my stern, loud voice, which have silenced the room when needed.  My students at the second school are my angels.  Not only are they well-behaved, but so eager to learn.  I can already see myself getting attached to these adorable kids.

This past weekend, I met some of the other Native English teachers, both in public and private schools.  It is comforting to know that there are so many of us in this "tiny" city.  It is nice to exchange stories and talk without thinking about each and every word.  I think especially in the public schools where there is only one Native teacher, it can feel a bit isolating.  Koreans are shy people and are fearful to speak English.  On top of that, I can sense that other teachers are disappointed that I can't speak Korean.  It's been too hard to explain my adoption story and why I lost my Korean language skills to them.  So they think I'm an idiot or just a bad Korean.  Either way, there hasn't been much opportunity to learn Korean.  My one saving grace is the After School English teacher at my main school, whom I met yesterday.  Her English is excellent and so outgoing, she reminds me of all my friends back home.

Although I haven't been here long, I have already learned to "take it easy" and just let things happen.  There is no use in trying to plan too far in advance because everything happens in Korean time (though not quite like the Aloha time).  My many years of moving to different places and traveling has helped me to be more outgoing, which has been helpful in meeting new people.  Most of all, I am discovering my love of teaching (thanks to my second school).  At the end of the day, I know I'm here for my students and that puts a smile on my face.

First 48 hours in Korea

After more than 17 hours of travel, I finally made it to Korea about 5am yesterday.  I waited until 7am for the driver to show up.  After that, I waited another hour for a different driver because he was the only one who knew where I was supposed to go.  Then, I went straight to the Dangjin head office to wait for my co-teacher(s).  I met 2 teachers, one who was leaving, another who was replacing him.  They took me to my apartment, lunch, and school.  I wasn't prepared to meet the principle as I had just gotten off the plane and wasn't in my best form.  Nonetheless, there we went.  My teachers introduced me to various other teachers and office employees.  Each time, my co-teacher had to explain why I couldn't speak Korean.  They did not seem pleased.  So it goes.  Finally at the end of the day, my co-teacher, the replacement, took me to Lotte Market to buy some essentials: coffee marker, grinder (of sorts), and school slippers.  He seemed please at my fast shopping ability.  I explained that I actually hate shopping.  It had been a long day, so I unpacked, shower, looked at the lesson for the next day, and went to sleep.

In the morning, my principal picked me up and took me to my school.  My first school is about a 20 minute drive or 1 hour bus ride.  The first 4 periods are my 5th and 6th grade classes and the rest of the day is for lesson planning.  All I did today was observe the class.  The children were trying to speak to me in Korean and was disappointed that I couldn't reply.  Few are trying to teach me...and I thought I was the teacher!  After school, I met my co-teacher from my second school.  My first day there will be Wednesday.  This juggling two schools should be interesting.  On another note, I was asked whether I was married or single by teachers and students.  I know it's a common question and people are curious.  One thing I had trouble explaining was WHY (which my principal asked).  "Uh, I don't know.  I haven't met the right person yet."  Then he told me that maybe I will find someone in Korea.  I guess anything is possible.

My city, Dangjin: First, it is a lot bigger than what I imagined.  Because of Hyundai, the city has grown exponentially in the last ten years.  There are high rise apartments everywhere and the city limit is huge (hence the hour bus ride to my schools).  My apartment is near downtown Dangjin and close to the bus terminal.  Apparently, the downtown is not safe at night...they said something about the Chinese.  It is about an hour bus ride from Seoul and about 4 hours from Ulsan (Mysti).  Apparently, my apartment building has a lot of foreigners and I met three tonight.  I'm always up for meeting new people!

Until next time :-)

Come Full Circle (Almost): from Korea to Korea

With less than 24 hours before my flight to Korea, it hasn't quite hit me that I am actually leaving.  It also seems somewhat surreal because I have nothing left to do on my last day.  I feel as if I need to run around to make last minute purchases, eat my favorite food, or anything else I have forgotten to do.  But I have nothing left to do, except wait for my shuttle.  So here I sit, in front of my computer, awaiting my journey.  It won't really hit me until I board my first leg of the flight.  Perhaps, it won't even hit me until I board the second leg to Seoul.  

The thing that seems more strange than anything else, is my actual return to Korea.  It has been 23 years, 1 month, and 29 days since I left Korea.  At that time, I never imagine returning to my mother's homeland.  On top of my anxiety of becoming a first time teacher (because that's not enough), I am filled with both excitement and trepidation about my returned to the country I've spent almost ten years of my childhood.  I've lost most of my language skills and adopted a very Western behavior and ideology.  I fear I may not fit in with the other side of my heritage because of my long absence.  No matter how much research I do, there will certainly be customs I may not be aware.  I fear people will expect me to know more than I do.  They will demand certain behaviors from me, which I will find foreign.  During my nine months of research and Korean emergence, I wonder if I romanticized the friendly people, rice paddies in the countryside, fabulous food and street venders, ancient archaeological site, and beautiful landscape.

I'm sure there will be good times and bad.  No matter where anyone lives, it will never be perfect.  There will be different customs, rude people, and unsavory food, but that's everywhere.  Korea is a home of my childhood, although I wasn't born there.  But I feel as if I am coming full circle.  In some ways, it is a turn home.  I'm looking forward to sharing all my adventures and mishaps with all my friends.

Finally back on track: My Impending Journey to Korea

A week after sending out a gazillion resumes to China, Japan, and Taiwan, I am finally back on track to go to South Korea.  I was really trying to convince myself that I would be happy teaching anywhere in Asia, but something kept pulling me back to Korea.  I still haven't been rejected, wait-listed, nor confirmed for EPIK.  I didn't know if or when I would be placed with them.  After a slight melt down and a calm re-evaluation of my situation, I decided (with the help of Mysti) that I would wait for Korea.

As I stated in my previous post, the problem is that I don't have another FBI Criminal Background Check (CBC) and it takes three months to get it.  So I went and got another set of fingerprints and expressed mailed another request to the FBI.  Although it seemed like a long shot, I contacted another recruiter to look at my options.  To my surprise, I was told that I could use a copy of my FBI CBC as long as I got it notarized and Apostille!  Also, we looked at the possibility of getting my documents back from EPIK and have them sent to the new provincial office where I was applying.

I just want to explain how fast everything happened because I've been dealing with my EPIK application since April!  This all started Tuesday, just two days ago!

• I had an interview with the recruiting agency on Tuesday night and sent them a copy of my entire EPIK package.  
• Several hours later, I received a message, which had my interview time with the Chungnam Education Office (the actual employer).  I found out in the morning that Chungnam office had contacted EPIK to get my documents.  This prompted an immediate email from my first recruiter asking for an explanation.
• I had a slight panic attack because I didn't want both places to reject my application for using two recruiters.  Then Mysti calmed me down.  I had already explained my situation to my new recruiter and he was fine with it.
• Last night (Wednesday), I had a 20 minute interview and I explained the EPIK situation again.  She didn't have a problem with it (PHEW!).  Another 20 minutes later, I was offered the job.  
• My new recruiter is sending my Contract and Notice of Appointment tonight (tomorrow morning in Korea)!
• After the interview, I emailed my first recruiter to withdraw my EPIK application and get the contact information for the EPIK coordinator in charge of my file.
• I received the contact information (to my surprise).  I am grateful to them because they didn't have to help me after I withdrew my application.
• I emailed EPIK and asked for my documents to be sent to the Chungnam Education Office.  Now, I wait.
• I emailed my references for another original letter of recommendation and received confirmation from both.  Thank you, Gary Vogt and Dr. Peter Hunt.  You two are lifesavers!!!
• I just got the copy of my FBI CBC notarized!  And now I need to get it Apostille.

My big fear is that something else will go wrong and I will have to start this process all over again.  But if all goes well, I should be boarding a plane for Seoul in about a week (depending on how long it takes for me to get my visa).

Oh right, can't forget about my life lesson!  This is what I've learned (or re-learned) in the last couple of days.  Life doesn't happen the way you plan. But if you want something bad enough, never settle for anything less.  Eventually, it will all work out.  I may still run into road blocks ahead and I may not make it to Korea in the next couple of weeks.  Even if that happens, I will be patient and flexible.  I will eventually make it to Korea!

End of an Era: To My Dear Sister, Mysti!

This post is dedicated to my long time flat mate, best friend, and soul sister, Mysti!

It all began during the Stanley Cup Finals eleven years ago.  It was the 5th game: Dallas Stars versus New Jersey Devils.  As we watched the triple overtime game from an uncomfortable bar seat, I knew that Mysti and I would be friends for a long time.  At that time, I didn't know just how close we would become or that we would become roommates.  Now after ten years, one month, and 16 days of being flat mates, I have to say "Farewell" as she embarks on her new journey to South Korea.  I can turn this into a sentimental, sappy good-bye, but instead I want to reflect on some key moments over the past decade of friendship.  After all, it's really not good-bye forever (because I hope to be in Korea before too long).

It may surprise some people that a die-hard Dallas Stars fan would be friends with a die-hard Red Wings fan.  However, we came to an agreement a long time ago to be respectful of each other's team without resorting to violence or name calling.  Our friendship was also cemented by our deep DISLIKE for the Colorado Avalanche (yes, we are aware that we live in the Avs country).  While our bond of sisterhood may have started because of our love for hockey, it has grown into something much more...like our love for football, dislike of basketball, and ability to kick most guys asses in sport trivia.

After more than ten years, we have seen the best and worst of each other.  We have gone through relationship break-ups, unemployments, family deaths, Breast Cancer 3-Day, and many others.  We traveled to Europe and half way across the country.  We threw an amazing New Years Party, at which we jumped into the freezing ocean water.  Few weeks later, we threw another party (New Years "Re-Do") for all our friends who couldn't make it.   We started many traditions: midnight shows of Harry Potter, our usual pizza (pineapple, black olives, and jalapenos), Ren Faire, and New Years in different countries.  We encouraged each other as we re-entered the college life as thirty-somethings.  We even decided to teach English in South Korea (she just gets to go before me).  Sometimes we fought, other times we comforted each other as only true sisters could.  We have jokes no one else understands and can have full conversations in which others can't follow.

She is the Phoebe to my Rachel, Meredith to my Christina, and Oscar to my Felix.  Anyone brave enough to date either of us knows that he will always come second (or perhaps third after Kim).  Yes, the friendship like ours is rare and many people don't quite understand.  But it has worked for ten years because it's not about all the good times we shared, but also the trying and difficult ones.  As I reflect on the first decade of our relationship, I know that we will celebrate many more.  No matter where are are in the world, we will always be just a phone call or plane ride away.  Although it is an end of an era, it is just the beginning of our friendship! Have a safe travel, dear sister, and I will see you soon!

Why I travel...

My friends and I started a new tradition several years ago, which is to spend each New Years in a different country.  Although we took a 2 year hiatus, we are back on track this year - - -South Korea.  As we plan our 6th trip abroad, I remember back to MY first trip, not OUR first trip.  I want to clarify this because a part of the tradition (unintentionally) is that someone from the four of us misses a trip while we add a new member.  We always welcome new traveling buddies!

I think first trip abroad is the most memorable because it is the FIRST trip.  There are a lot of fun stories from each trip, but France was definitely memorable.  But what I remember most was what others were saying about the French before I left.  They warned me that French people were rude and I wouldn't have fun.  WOW, what a gross generalization of an entire population!!!  I tried not to let them influence my fabulous vacation though.  And good thing I didn't.

It has been my experience that French people are one of the nicest people I've ever met while traveling.  I'm not trying to start an argument with anyone who may have had a different experience.  I found the French to be incredibly kind and friendly.  I've asked, parlez-vous anglais?, more times than I can count.  To which I received a friendly smile and "yes, I speak English."  The most obnoxious group of people we encountered were two couples from Philly as they practically screamed, "Hi, do you speak English?" Ok, people, they're not deaf.  And the most basic traveling etiquette is to learn at least "Hello" in their language.  I've never taken French and I pronounce most of the French words as if I'm pronouncing a Spanish word.  But I still manage to remember a few key phrases.  We are guests in their country and  we need to be respectful.

My favorite memory is when an older Parisian gentleman tried to help us because he thought we were lost.  We weren't really lost, but it made our day!  Another, when I asked for a cafe au lait, and the waiter jokingly asked (in French) if I wanted that with Cognac.  Ah, no, too early.  I also had a conversation with a Frenchman in Spanish while he spoke to me in Italian, since neither of us spoke each others language.  We got the gist of what we were saying.  If I had gone to France with the preconceived notion that French people were rude, I may have treated them differently.  I'm really glad I didn't.

I think everyone has a different experience traveling abroad, sometimes it's great and other times it's miserable.  Not all our experiences were great or happy.  That would be impossible.  But 4 years and 6 countries later, I'm still infected by the "travel bug".  I get excited just thinking about the wonderful locals and all the things I will learn from them.  Because for me, traveling is about getting to know the people and their culture.  The things I remember the most are the interactions and the conversations I've had with the locals and fellow travelers.  This is why I travel.

My First Adoption Story

I hesitated before starting this entry about my adoption.  I’ve always answered people’s questions about my adoption without blinking and I don’t particularly find it intrusive.  During my teen years and early twenties, it seemed to dominate my life.  How could it not, there was just SO MUCH DRAMA!  But now I’m so far removed from my adopted family, I sometimes forget about them completely.  There was once anger, but now there is indifference.

Most adopted children don’t remember their birth parents.  If they do, it is often a vague and unclear image.  I remember exactly how my mom looked and how her voice sounded.  I remember the look she used to give me when I did something bad.  I remember the last thing she told me before I boarded the plane from Seoul to Minnesota, “Be a good girl and study hard so you can go to college”.  This was her big dream for me --- college.  In order to understand my mother’s decision, let me share a brief biography of myself.

            I was born in Louisiana in 1976; only 4 months after my mother married my father in Ohio.  My father was an American soldier based in South Korea when he met my mother.  This is an all too familiar story.  The difference was that my father married my mother.  Then later, he went back to South Korea for another tour, while his wife and two children stayed in the States.  I don’t have the details of what happened next except that my mother found out about my father’s affair with another Korean woman.  So, my mother packed up her things and her two small children, two and one-year-old, and left for Korea in order to confront my father.  All my mother would tell me was that they promptly got a divorce and separated the two children.  My brother went with my father and I stayed with my mother.  For the next nine years, my mother struggled to support us.  I was often left with my grandmother or aunt, so my mother could work.  When I started school, she somehow found a way to pay for the expensive private school.  Apparently, US citizens could not go to the Korean public schools.  Her only option was to give up my US citizenship or spend money on expensive private school.  So I spent my early education with other American children, whose parents were based at Camp Casey.  But my tuition proved to be too expensive and I often miss school.

By the summer of 1987, I had already missed an entire year of school. Then on August 27, 1987, day after my eleventh birthday she told me that she was sending me away.  She asked how I would feel about going back to America without her.  I didn’t understand why I would go anywhere without her.  Then she explained that an American family would adopt me.  Parents always say things they don’t actually mean---I just thought this was one of those instances.  When I realized that she wasn’t joking, I begged her not to send me away and I promised to do whatever she wanted.  I promised to be a good girl.  After hours of crying and begging, she promised not to bring up the subject again.  I had won.

Then six months later, my mom’s friend came for a visit with her 5-year-old daughter, Sunni.  While the two friends went out to catch up, I stayed and played with Sunni.  We stayed up watching T.V and eating watermelons.  Sunni still remembers that night.  The next day, my world was turned upside down.  People from St Vincent Orphanage came for both Sunni and myself.   I don’t remember protesting at this point.  I was just shocked and accepted my new fate.

I was at St. Vincent for less than four months.  During that time, my mother visited me with gifts and money.  Each time, she told me that it would only be temporary.  She would find a way to get to the States to reclaim me, but it was important for me to be apart of a new family.  I had to be a good girl and study hard.  I was told that my mother and Sunni’s mother had requested for us to be placed into the same family.  So, the five-year-old girl I had just met would soon be my sister.  I don’t know why they thought it would help.  My guess is that they just wanted us to be with someone we knew however brief.  Our age difference was too great at that time for us to truly bond.  My time at the orphanage was pleasant enough.  We had English classes during the day in order to prepare for our new lives in the States.  Most of the time, I was bored out of my mind.  I had been bilingual my whole life and I was learning how to say, “Hello, my name is Angie”.  After classes, I played with my friends and helped the cook with various chores.  I made some good friends, whom I’ve kept in touch with after I arrived in Minnesota (though for just a short time).

On my eighteenth birthday, my adopted mother told me that my biological mother had called.  She said it was up to me to do whatever I wanted.  Naturally, I was in shock.  This was the second time that my world had turned upside down.  The first emotion was anger.  Although my adopted mother had a different interruption for my anger, it was still a genuine emotion.  I won’t go into the boring details of my reunion with my birth mother.  It started off with a letter and eventually I was ready to visit her.  I met my stepfather and my two sisters.  I also found out that my mom met my stepfather just months after my adoption.  My stepfather tracked down and contacted my adopted family less than two years after my adoption.  But he was told he had to wait until I turned eighteen.  My stepfather is truly amazing and very prompt!  My mom and I spent years trying to repair our broken relationship.  We even had a conversation about finding my brother.  When she passed away in 2004 from cancer, we were on the verge of being back to where we were twenty some years ago.

I won’t go into the details of my life with my adoptive family.  But I am longer in contact with any of them.  Sunni and I were placed into the same family and we kept in touch on and off until a few years ago.  We were always very different and I had left the family long ago.  I have no reasons to rehash our childhood or talk about all the problems we faced.  I moved on with my life.

I don’t wonder what it would have been like if I had stayed with my mom in Korea.  But I do wonder what our relationship would have been like if my adopted mother allowed us to have contact before my eighteenth birthday.  Seven years after my mother’s death, none of it matters.  Perhaps, I should find my brother. 

I don’t think my adoption experience defines who I am.  But it is apart of me.  I don’t hold a strong opinion for or against adoption.  I think there are many different circumstances beyond our imaginations.  I believe that people in general don’t make adoption decisions lightly.  I believe there are good adopted parents just as there are horrible ones.  There are good and bad biological parents, those who cherish their children just as much as they abuse.  There are adoption agencies that make a profit, while others do not.  We are given what we are given.  We must accept the past, live in the moment, and look forward to the future.  I don’t have any words of wisdom anymore than the next person.  But I will say this: I don’t feel inferior to others because of my adoption.  There is no shame in being adopted.  I am defined by the decisions and choices I make in life, not by my circumstances.  We will all have different opinions and experiences, but what makes us human is our compassion.  This is the one lesson I hold close to my heart.