[Edit: obscenely long post ahead. You have been warned.]
No, it's not some important date in world history--sorry to disappoint you. It is, however, an important date in my life. On August 30, 1995, with very little idea of what I was doing, I got on a plane and flew to Korea. I was only two weeks out of university, and I had so little money that even after selling my computer I was only able to buy a one-way ticket.
During the spring of that year, a friend of mine had told me about a friend's mother (yep, a friend of a friend) who was recruiting English teachers for a language school in Korea. I gave it less than a day's thought before I decided to do it--I had done some work in Japanese studies, and I was planning on getting to Japan anyway, and Korea was the perfect stepping stone. So, with very little preparation, I picked up my life and moved halfway across the world.
My first day in Korea rates as the worst day of my life. I've had some doozies since then, but nothing can really top that first day for sheer and utter hopelessness. I arrived at the airport at 6:00 in the morning after a 16-hour flight and no sleep--and no visa, for that matter. The friend of a friend's mother--let's call her "Dragon Lady," to borrow a popular nickname--had told me not to worry about a visa. The immigration officer at the airport, however, thought differently. He asked me for my visa, and when I told him I didn't have one he just looked at me with this odd grimace on his face. Then he asked me what I was doing in Korea, and I showed him the address of the language institute I was going to work at. Little did I know that this was illegal (hey, I was young and stupid). I know for a fact that if I had had a round-trip ticket he would have put me on the next flight out. Since I didn't have a round trip ticket, though, he gave me a 15-day temporary visa, and told me I would have to leave when that expired.
The Dragon Lady herself was supposed to pick me up at the airport, but when I came out of the gate there was no one waiting for me. I take that back, there were about a dozen taxi drivers, circling like vultures waiting for a dead body. One approached and asked me if I needed a ride. When I said no, he just smiled--like the vulture who knows that all things will come to it in the end. I went back, found the telephones, and called the Dragon Lady's house. Her husband answered and said she had already left for the institute. When I told him she was supposed to pick me up at the airport, he said he had no idea about that. As it turns out, she had only gone out to the store and was coming back, but that wasn't much help after the fact. I went back out to the vultures, knowing I was defeated.
When I asked the driver how much the fare would be to the institute, he asked me how much money I had. Fortunately, I wasn't that stupid, and I told him a fraction of what I really had. He wasn't happy about it, but accepted it (I know now that even that amount was a rip-off, but what did I know then?). We then embarked on a two-hour drive around Seoul because the driver apparently didn't know the city from a hole in his head. It was raining, and he had the radio tuned to some talk show. I spoke absolutely no Korean (well, I knew how to say "Hi"), so it was complete gibberish to me. My sleep-deprived, stress-addled mind, though, insisted on making some sense of the unending stream of information. In my delusional state, I heard a man talking about how he killed children by making evil toys. I didn't even find this disturbing at the time.
When we finally arrived at the institute, I dragged all my luggage out of the rain and into the lobby, then walked into the office. I introduced myself as the new teacher, but the man behind the desk only looked at a calendar and said, "We're not expecting any new teachers today, and I can't find your name anywhere." So then I asked him if Dragon Lady worked there and he said yes, so I asked if I could wait until she arrived. They showed me to a small room with an even smaller couch. I curled up on the couch, wondering what to do before I faded into unconsciousness.
Dragon Lady didn't actually show up until 6:00 that evening (I slept the whole day through). She assured me that everything was OK, and I actually began to feel better. Then she asked me what kind of visa I had, when I told her I didn't get one because she told me not to worry about it, she yelled, "You were supposed to get a tourist visa and we would take care of it when you got here." Maybe I should have known that, I don't know. I was to delirious at the time to argue. She said she would take care of things, and told me I would be living with two teachers named Sara and Christina.
By the time the three of us got back to the house, I was wide awake. So we sat around drinking and getting to know each other. Somewhere during that time I learned that my two new housemates were lesbians. The fact didn't bother me too much at the time, but that's only because I didn't realize what it meant my life would be like. When they were getting along, I was shut out, but when they fought they both tried to get me to take their side. It was hell, to say the least. And it was definitely not what I imagined living with two lesbians would be like.
The two weeks I actually taught at the institute are something of a blur. I only remember a few things about that time, like my first class, when I was thrust into a room full of elementary school students and told to "teach them English." I asked if I would be given a textbook, and one was promised, but it never arrived. The students began to throw coins at each other, and I spent the hour trying not to take one in the eye. At the end of the two weeks, though, it turned out that the Dragon Lady was not able to work magic with my visa, and I would have to go to Japan to get a new visa. This was no problem for me, as I had friends in Japan.
When I got to Japan it was too late to visit the consulate, and my friends told me that the next day was a national holiday, and the consulate wouldn't be open. By the time I did get to the consulate, though, a typhoon had moved in, and I wasn't able to leave Japan until a week after I had arrived. As I said, this was no problem for me, and I actually had a pretty good time with my friends. In fact, they tried to convince me to stay in Japan, and even told me they would put me up until I could find a job and a place of my own. As tempting as the offer was, I told them that leaving Korea now would be giving up. I guess I was just too stubborn to admit failure. So back I went.
Needless to say, my problems were not over. Dragon Lady accused me of fabricating the story about the typhoon (I know I'm creative, but a typhoon?) just so I could stay with my friends longer, and fired and evicted me over the phone. She even said she would send her goons over the next morning to make sure I left the house. Christina and Sara assured me that Dragon Lady was all bark and no bite, but just to be on the safe side I took a walk early the next morning. I soon found myself at the bottom of some stairs, and before I knew it I was at the top of Namsan, the South Mountain. There was a small pagoda there with some benches beneath it, so I laid down on one of the benches and stared up at the intricate woodwork.
I stayed there for most of the day, and I'll admit that I prayed for most of that time. Now, I know there are some that don't put much stock in such things, but it was what I needed at the time. And when I came down off the mountain, I knew that I would be OK. The Dragon Lady's goons never came, but Christina and Sara had decided in the interim that they didn't like living where the Dragon Lady knew where to find them. The three of us ended moving together, and I severed all ties to the institute.
A lot has happened in the intervening seven years--far more than I could ever write here. But things did turn out OK. I've been married for over five years to a wonderful woman, I have an MA in Classical Korean Literature, and I have a great job as a Korean-English translator.
Apologies to everyone for the long post, but I always get a bit emotional around this time of year. I remember how everything started, and I look back to see how far I've come. Just thought I'd share a bit of that with my fellow inmates.
Cell 270
[This message has been edited by Suho1004 (edited 08-30-2002).]
posted 08-30-2002 16:04
