My First Article

NOTE: Because of this blog, I was recently given the opportunity to write for the college newspaper in my hometown of Fort Wayne, IN. This is the first in a series of articles that I'm writing for them about my time in Korea. The article is mostly background to give people a vague idea of what Korea is like before I tell my real adventures, so it's not terribly interesting for those of you who have been reading the blog regularly. Those of you who live in Fort Wayne, try to pick up a copy. It should be published one week from this Wednesday.

I stood on the top of a mountain overlooking the city of Daejon. I had only been in Korea about a month. I was on break from teaching young Korean children English and was trying to do “Korean” things for the first time. Mountain climbing was only the first of a week of adventures. I didn’t have a digital camera yet, so it was still hard to convince people back home that the huge city of 1.5 million people I was looking out over wasn’t some tiny village that you see in the movies. People seem to forget that Korea is one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world—and Koreans certainly like to show that off.

In area, Daejon isn’t much bigger than Fort Wayne; the big difference lies in how it’s built. Like everything in Korea, Daejon is built up, not out. Fifteen to twenty story apartment buildings are the norm. Most of the buildings even in the outlying areas are still several stories tall. Even the school I teach at is on the sixth story of an office building. If there’s one thing Koreans are good at, it’s efficient use of space.

The first thing that struck me about the city, though, wasn’t the size, it was the neon. Living in a city in Korea is a lot like living in Las Vegas, I imagine. Blinking lights are everywhere, inviting you to come into bars, or singing rooms, or traditional sit-down restaurants with burners on the table where you cook your own meat. Even the churches have neon signs: blue, red, or white crosses at the top that signal exactly where to find salvation should you need it. The churches are everywhere. That shouldn’t really come as a surprise: one-third of all Koreans are Christian.

I just rested and watched the city from the top of the mountain for about a half an hour. Mountain climbing is hard work, and my body wasn’t used to it yet. It would take a few more months of climbing before I could make it to the top without stopping to rest along the way. But you’d never know how hard it really is by looking around at your fellow climbers: kids, and businessmen, and grandmothers. No one in Korea seems to escape the call of the mountains that surround every city.

When I could breathe again, I headed back down. People tried to chat with me a bit, but all I could say was “hello” and “I don’t understand.” I mostly communicated by hand gestures back then. Now, when I go to the mountains, everyone wants to talk to me. Foreigners are something of a novelty in Korea. We only make up about one percent of the population, and when you leave a city to head out into the country, there’s a good chance that you’ll be the first foreigner that some of the people have ever seen. Sure, they get American TV: they watch “Friends” and “CSI” and “That ‘70s Show,” but it’s a different thing to see a foreigner in person. A lot of people stare, and I can see why. When I’m on the mountains, I almost never see anyone from another country.

Drenched in sweat and ready for a hot bath, I tried to find the bus back to my apartment. Unfortunately, baths are one of the many Western things that are hard to find in Korea. My own shower is nothing more than a spray nozzle on my bathroom sink. A bath is something you have to go to a bathhouse for. I’d try out a bathhouse in a few days. Although I was already used to the stares from Koreans at that point, it’s another thing entirely to be stared at when you’re taking a bath. I don’t go to the bath houses often.

When I made it home, I slumped down in my chair and tried to get used to the idea that this was my new home now—at least for another year. I’d have to get used to the stares. I’d have to get used to the lack of Mexican food and real peas. I’d have to get used to paying $5 for an avocado, but only a few cents for Mandarin Oranges. But more than anything, I’d have to get used to being in the outsider…and all the good and bad that comes with that.