first day

Several days later, I would use my stove to dry my only pair of socks. I arrived at the Incheon airport to find that my luggage was missing. I stepped out of the terminal feeling a bit like a lost dog, searching through the people holding signs for the one that was to take me to my new home. A solid wall of Hangeul and Chinese script greeted me. I had been assured by a stewardess, mostly through hand gestures, that I could have my bags delivered to me once I knew my address.

Eventually, the driver showed up. He gathered me in with a word or two, along with another new teacher from the States. It was a relief to have someone I could talk to.

This was going on 28 hours awake for me. I had decided to cram in as many activities the night before as possible, with the result that I did not sleep. Sleep on the long flight was spectral if it occurred at all.

The drive to Suwon took about an hour, past misty, forested hills and crops of industrial high-rises. The varied landscape afforded some good views. Miniature down-towns seemed to spring up out of the forest. I suppose we were passing the outskirts of Seoul. It was dark when we reached Suwon, flashing signs and sparkling lights everywhere, and our driver's car broke down. I don't know how long we waited while he came back and forth with cups of water to pour into the engine, trying to cool it down. In between trying to fix the car, he spoke fast and long on his cellphone with someone, presumably trying to solve our problem. After a while, other employees showed up, including the American who had initially hired me. The conversations between the driver and a Korean coworker were lengthy and mysterious. The car was still busted, so we decided to push it out of the way. We gave it a little shove, and it started rolling downhill. As it careened toward a nearby parked car, I could hear the driver shouting, "Stop! Stop!" We had all stopped pushing, and the car was rolling on its own. My future coworker yelled back, "You've got the brakes, buddy!" He managed to figure it out just before he crashed into the front of the other car. My coworker confided to me: "They're a smart people, but they don't have a lot of common sense."

I got a cab to my new apartment, and another coworker showed me around the immediate neighborhood. At that point, I ran into another American coworker and her friends who were getting ready to head into town for the night. It was Saturday. By this point, I had been up for more than 30 hours, but I agreed to meet them and take the bus into town that night. After losing my luggage, and not having seen my apartment, I felt devoid of any possessions or obligations. One location or activity seemed about as good as any other.

Our first stop was a galbi (barbecue) restaurant downtown. At this point, I was still holding a little more to my vegetarianism, so I mostly had soup while others were eating pork cooked at the table. Tried Soju for the first time, which is a weak and fairly tasteless liquor. We met four male Korean college students, none of whom spoke much English, other than a few meaningless phrases. One of the students would point at his friend and yell one of these phrases repeatedly, which was: "I hate you! I hate you!" When another student found out that we were teachers at Sejong Academy, he said (speaking of the past), "I go to Sejong! Teacher beat me and beat me and I bleed!" Later, we found ourselves at a bar serving makgeoli, a cloudy rice wine that we drank out of little bowls, and each time the Koreans would shout "Korean Culture!"

The night ended at a foreigner bar closer to home, with so many lights on the street outside that I could have sworn it was the middle of the day. After that, I finally saw my new apartment for the first time, looking white and sterile, before passing out.