To managing the sizes of my bites

A truly new concept for me, I realize. Lol.

Today being the first day I’ve had to explore my new home since arriving just under a week ago, I had wanted to try to take a bus to find a hospital where I have to get a physical of sorts for my Korean ID card and so get to see a bit more of the city, but ultimately decided that baby steps were more in order, and more my speed, today.

My arrival made me feel alternately like a baton being thrown in the air or passed between runners, and like a toy being held tightly by an adoring child. After my post on facebook about flying through customs, I made my way to the information desk by exit 10 at the airport to put in a call to this Eunice as instructed by my recruiter. There was no answer. I had Kevin the recruiter’s number too, which he’d given me in case Eunice didn’t answer so we called that. What Kevin hadn’t instructed me on was if he didn’t answer, either. I had instructions from the teacher I’d been speaking with (Kiara) on getting out of the airport, and was emailing Kevin to say I was going to find my own way, when some guy said, “Jennifer?” and then proceeded to help me over to where the buses were. He didn’t say much, just got me my ticket, helped me get my bags on the bus, and told me which stop to get off at. Couldn’t help but wonder what the hell would happen upon getting there.

In addition to HOW I’d know which stop—he’d said something that sounded like “you-jong,” so I just hoped that it’d be clear enough to me when we were at the stop that that was the one I needed. Since my mystery airport benefactor had also spoken a little to the driver, I was also hopeful that he’d mentioned making sure I got off at the right stop.

Fortunately, I did hear that stop, and the driver looked at me and kind of/almost nodded as a sort of afterthought. I got my heavy backpack, suitcase (so much better than 2 I have to drag around behind me), and stationed myself at the stop, wondering what was going to happen next.

Interestingly, before I left and Kevin told me that Eunice was going to help me with heading away from the airport, Kiara the teacher told me she’d been told that June the school’s owner was going to pick me up. So, I mean hell, with 2 people working to get me wherever, I’d have to get there eventually!

I waited about 10 minutes, figuring I’d give the nearby fairy godmothers time to find me, when June pulled up to take me to my apartment. In a nod to, many things, including: convenience and familiarity, my front door’s locking mechanism is a key code:

June only knew how to turn on the heat, the bottom right button of 4. Hot water is only available when the heat is on. And I’ve discovered that the Koreans know how to heat a place: heated floors. Which, again is familiar since Kris & Bill have the bottom floor in the townhouse heated, but in a smaller enclosed space, it works like gangbusters. I officially love heated floors.

Though I didn’t so much love that, well, it looked like the previous teacher, Leslie, was still getting ready to leave. There were bags and some money strewn over chairs and the floor, a pair of tennis shoes and boots laying in the middle of the floor, loads of curlers, curling irons, lotions and perfumes on top of a dresser. June said Leslie had promised she’d clean before she left; I asked if she was sure Leslie was gone! Apparently she was, and in the I’m-leaving-this-country packing frenzy, simply left stuff where it lay.

I realized today that I hadn’t really posted any pictures of my apartment in Chile (I had 2, but the second was just a room in someone else’s apartment). But the apartment in Chile was pretty standard, whereas I have an Asian studio apartment.

It isn’t large as you perhaps can see, and the stovetop is not ideal (nor is the lack of microwave), 

but it does have a washer (yay!) and the standard Asian bathroom, which I don’t love:

 

Please excuse my unavoidable reflection as I augment your cultural awareness

because the entire room gets wet when you shower. This is a standard Asian shower (or it has been for me in all 3 countries here I've been to). However, this should reduce most bathroom cleaning!

So, after that I went for a walk to start getting an idea of my surroundings. My building is on top of a hill, and there are small streets behind and parallel to my own place with shops, particularly, curiously, a lot of car repair shops.

I found a restaurant that was open (it being Sunday, lots of places were closed), and relief of reliefs, a waitress who spoke some English. She would translate some of the menu, but when for example I heard, “chicken stew” and asked for that, she said they didn’t have any. O….k…. We finally settled on bibimbap, a safe, familiar entrée.

I was supposed to go meet Kiara at the nearby emart (like Target), but hadn’t been able to remember where I’d seen it, so decided to ask the people at the restaurant. Luckily they were able to point me in the direction I needed to go, since my phone (which still has my useless US sim card because you can only rent a prepaid sim card for about 5 days before you have to return it to the exact location you got it, which in my case would have been the airport) was unable to find an emart any closer than a good 1.5 hours away in Seoul.

Kiara had told me to bring the papers Leslie had left me. Interestingly, the ONLY thing Leslie didn’t leave me were papers pertaining to the school.

Kiara’s apartment is just down the same long slope I’m on, across from the emart, so my instructions are to meet her in front of her place tomorrow morning so we can walk to work together. Because oh yes! I start work the next day.