The Arrival

So the moment of truth had finally arrived. After a few seconds of silence spent following the short Korean man leading me through the airport parking lot, I jogged up beside him and asked “so do you work at my school?” He responded by narrowing his eyes and grunting “no English.” So that answers that question. Blindly following him to a newish-looking minivan taxi, I piled my gear into the trunk and got in the front passenger seat.

Still in zombie mode from the flight, it was all I could do to stare quietly at my inauspicious vehicular surroundings and keep from falling asleep. He climbed into the driver’s seat and whipped out his cell phone, reaching a number and launching into a 30 second spiel in quick Korean. Shortly thereafter he took the phone away from his ear and gestured it toward me. It was my recruiter. He informed me that the taxi would now take me the hour-ish drive necessary from the airport to my school and not to worry about the fare as it has been prepaid. Grand. The next hour or so is now barely more than a blur in my memory. Aside from the excitement of internalising the fact that I was now in Asia for the very first time, though, I can confidently say that the drive was no more interesting than any generic Monday morning rush hour commute.

I finally arrive blinking and bleary in Suji around 915 am. Upon stopping in front of a non-descript 7-floor building in the centre of a semi-bustling town, my driver makes another phone call and gives me the ‘just wait here’ index finger/nod combo upon hanging up. Soon my school’s director, Melany, comes down to meet me and treats me to coffee and a breakfast sandwich at a nearby restaurant. Her English is less than fantastic, but she is very kindly and leads me to the main floor of our school’s building to meet my Western co-workers. (My school is the entire 6th floor). We settle down in a very cozy little café run by the sweetest woman you can imagine. Through my jetlagged haze I grunt out a greeting to the genuine, kind, smiling young people who will soon become my new coworkers and best friends.

It would seem as though I have lucked out with my placement. I could not be happier with the 11 other teachers at my school. Meeting them and hearing their own reasons for embarking on this adventure rekindled a little bit of the wanderlust and general affection for humanity I had too quickly forgotten after my wanderings through Europe a few summers ago. Everyone here seems to have the mentality of the Couchsurfer – another global project whose praises I cannot sing loudly enough – and that is a very good thing indeed.

My school`s locale as well could not be better. It is a mere half-kilometre walk from my home and the funky little café (Café Chloi) on its main floor is honestly nothing short of perfect. The kind woman who runs it (whose name I finally found out is something that sounds like ‘Rem”) made an effort to learn my name after only my first day there and since then I have been a regular every morning. The delicious 3000 won, hand-ground-and-brewed-before your-eyes coffee is well worth the warm atmosphere, and Rem unfailingly brings out some sort of goodie with your coffee – be it a cookie, banana slices, or some sweet potato soup – on the house. It's entire exterior wall is a window so there's plenty of natural light, and there is always some soft, perfect café music playing through the small stereo – usually mild classical or what can best be described as Korea’s answer to Feist in her softer songs. That is to say great. The walls are adorned with all manner of cool trinkets, posters, and art pieces, and there is always a kettle brewing over an enclosed flame in the middle of the room.

A taste of home

This is the kind of place I feared I would be bound to leave behind in gay ol’ Montréal. With abrupt, faceless, sweeping capitalism having quickly sunk its teeth into this country over the past 20 years, I am very lucky to have not only found a Mile End-ish café of this nature in my town, but also that it happens to be unavoidably close to the entrance of my workplace.

Anyway, after meeting the crew I headed upstairs to get a brief look around my new workplace. It entails one full floor of a building with 11 classrooms and the usual administrative, gym, library, and storage areas. Luckily I did not have to start teaching that day, however, and Melany and my supervisor Lucy graciously allowed me to go check into my new apartment after all the introductions had been made so I could pull the badly needed triple S. I returned to school that afternoon and was treated by my directors to a delicious phở lunch at a nearby Vietnamese place. I spent the afternoon observing other teachers in the classroom and was back at my place for some well-needed rest by 7pm. I was told to try and stay up as late as possible so as to get my body adjusted to my new time zone. After the action-packed day(s) I had just endured, however, I was proud that I was able to even make it home on my own two legs. Smiling at how well this new adventure seemed to be shaping up as I hit the pillow, I was stone-cold unconscious by 730.