Getting Adjusted

I’m here. I made it. This is Seoul. This is home.

Two years ago, I visited this city on a ten-day holiday and left my heart on its streets. Something about this place owned a small part me, and I toyed with the idea of teaching abroad ever since. I struggled through life trying to run the rat race for power, wealth, and status – the American Dream, or at least the version I was sold. And somewhere along the way, I realized that something was missing. I was at my best while helping others succeed, and my degree in corporate politics placed service behind profit.

I was comfortable, but not great. I was content, but not ecstatic. I was settling for something that was stable but wrong. I felt pangs of jealousy when Facebook posts flooded my newsfeed of friends doing amazing things with their lives. A friend once taught me that jealousy wasn’t a sign that I wanted to do what someone else was doing, but it was a sign that I wasn’t doing what I really wanted to do. I was doing something, but I wasn’t doing enough. Instead, I longed for the road, the skies, and the feeling that I was contributing to something greater than a paycheck and monthly rent.

I’d never taught English in my life, but I remember a few teachers from my childhood who changed my life for the better. There was that one Language Arts teacher who taught me to never lose my sense of wonder, and there was that one science teacher who ignited a passion for the environment. There was the English teacher who believed we could build world record-breaking paperclip chains, and that history teacher who made me feel comfortable in my own nerdy skin. The thought that I could be someone like this drove me here.

I’ve never put much stock in fate, but something about waking up in my box apartment and walking to school in cuffed jeans and Converse feels like it was meant to be.

So I’m going all in.

I’m taking showers in my bathroom where the water splashes over the toilet, and I’m air drying my clothes when they come out of the wash. I’m standing in close proximity with civilians on crowded metro trains, and I’m eating pizza with red bean stuffed crust. I’m showing up to work with a low grade fever and I’m optimistically drinking bottles labelled “herbal medicine” between classes.

I’m walking miles from Hongdae to Itaewon when the metro shuts down at midnight and then riding the train the rest of the way home when it reopens at 5:30am. I’m buying day-old baked goods on discount, and I’m eating dollar-gimbap every night from the stand on my way home from work. I’m bowing to teachers and saluting the security guard at my school, and I’m turning away from my elders when I drink alcohol. I’m getting my stair workouts when I exit the metro, and I’m running mountains on Wednesday nights.

I’m learning dances and songs to perform to my younger students, and I’m trying to memorize over 400 Korean students’ names. I’m brushing my teeth three times a day, and I’m keeping my apartment windows open when I leave to prevent mold. I’m getting wifi on underground public transit, and I’m heating my apartment through my floor. I’m wearing slippers indoors, and I’m making no-bake desserts for 40 teachers. I’m taking too much toilet paper to the toilet because the rolls are kept outside of the stalls, and I’m using anti-aging shampoo because it’s the cheapest option.

I’m making mistakes and learning as I go. I’m loving the experience of getting adjusted to life in this new country. There’s so much to see and so many new ways to approach life. Every new place and culture has its own customs and norms, and I’m lucky to be in a position to experience this firsthand. It’s time to shed my North American biases and judgments and surround myself with new ideas. It’s not wrong, it’s different. It’s not weird, it’s just new. And it’s quickly becoming my new normal.