I LIVE.

Despite the best efforts of Google and Korean drivers, it should be noted.

I am now settled in Andong, in the north of the Gyeongbuk province. I haven't explored it too widely yet - I was going to yesterday, but the rain decided to come down in Vancouver proportions - but it seems pretty good so far. There is both a Lotte Mart and an E-Mart near my apartment, along with a lifetime's supply of 7-Elevens. And, as it happens, a lovely little cafe with wireless internet, which is where I'm writing this now.

I have neither a phone, nor interet access in my apartment, but I was led to not expect either until I get my Alien Registration Card, so whatever. I have developed a fervent hatred of PC bangs, due to their pirated copies of Internet Explorer which crash all the dratted time. I'd rather pay the extra 'pricy tea at a cafe' fee.

There is an incident I would like to relate.

It concerns a new friend of mine, Skye, whom I met at the orientation. On the first night here, I set off to visit here. I was armed with the address in both hangul and Roman letters and I flagged down a taxi with confidence. Only, when I tried to say it - and when I showed him the address - confusion set in.

So he drove. He drove for a while. He talked a lot as he did so, the meaning of his words almost entirely escaping me. Except when he tried to get across the concept of phone. He wanted to call the number that was written on the address, which turned out to belong to the landlady. I did not know that at the time. He drives about, calls the landlady a couple of times at loud volume and at great length, until we come to a halt outside the apartment building. The landlady, a tiny elderly woman, was waiting.

She practically yanked me out of the taxi and dragged me into the building and up the stairs, chattering excitedly the whole time. As it turns out, there was a reason why she was so happy to see me. I completed the trifecta of characteristics that differentiated Skye from the previous occupant of her apartment: she has friends, she is slim, and above all, she has no cats!

So that was fun.

Also, I have met some other pre-existing Andong teachers and they seem like pretty cool cats. Some of the other teachers at the orientation are settled near me, which is also swell. In front of a store near where I live, they sometimes have dancing girls. They must be very tired at the end of the day.

I ate raw garlic, which impressed the teachers from my school I had lunch with today. They introduced me to the concept of rice soup, which I find quite clever.

As for next weekend, I'm going to attempt to visit the ever-hospitable Jouelle in Seoul, where she will take me to a palace and Costco. (I'll have to find out where the train is, won't I?)

Oh, and apparently, BC has a new premier. Christy Clark, may you not be as much as an asshat as your predeccesor. I set such high standards for my province's politicians, don't I?

That is all for now. Don't burn the place to the ground while I'm out.

Post-Weekend Update

Saturday was horrible. The depths of my hatred for Saturday cannot be fathomed by any man, woman or beast. Do you like dealing with mysterious, foreign plumbing? While you're suffering from a massive headache that was, if not caused by, at least aggravated by the excessive volume of your instructors' mics? And by the world's slowest elevator? And classes all drat day?

No. No one does.

On the plus side, while Sunday was still chock full o' classes and the world's slowest elevator was still that, it was substantially more bearable. And Saturday did feature my first experience with soju, in sort of a pineapple-flavoured slush form. No, I did not get hammered; that would have been silly.

As for today (Monday), pictures must be forthcoming, because today featured our excursion to a traditional culture centre and the Hanok village tour. I got to paint bamboo, dance while wearing a monkey mask, pretend to be the mother of a bride, eat some delicious pastries that tasted a lot like the donuts mother used to make, go up a lot of stairs, dodge traffic in narrow streets, and look upon all sorts of strange and wonderful street merchandise. The best moment, though, had to be when a middle-aged gentleman came up to me to have a basic conversation in English. "Hello! How are you? It's warm weather today, isn't it? Have a good day!" and so on. It was awesome.

I'm not going to lie, though; I'm pretty frickin' tired. So I'm going to lie down and read now.

Pictures!

So it's just before seven AM at Jeonju University, where I'm having my orientation. I zonked out at nine, after swearing that I'd keep up until eleven so as to get myself back into the proper eight hours. By 'after', I mean 'five minutes'. I'm just that good.

Today marks the third day of orientation. We will have classes today; fun times! They've placed us in dormitories with two people to a dorm - my temporary roomie is a nice young lady from Orlando. (She likes Macs, but we won't hold that against her.) Most of the other teachers I seem to meet are from South Africa.

It's cold but not overly so here. There's enough snow on the ground to mess with traction. There's comforting mountains and trees that are strange and different.

But I know what you people want. So transparent! Well, here you are.

Boy Meets Girl; Boy Hides

John A. Macdonald surveys his domain - the view from my dorm. (John A.'s suffering from severe *ahem* 'jet lag', so he won't be featuring in too many pics for a bit.)
There's artwork on the long concrete wall seen outside my dorm, this being a small sample. This is also a 'behold the glories of zoom!' shot, for we're twelve floors up.During the opening ceremonies, they showed some awesome things, including drumming (if there's any Korean art I'd like to try, this is it)...Taekwondo (I didn't get many good pics of this for obvious reasons, but trust me, it was awesome)...And fan dancing (graceful and elegant in exactly the way I'm not).Finally, gaze upon my dinner, ye mighty, and despair.

That is all for now, for I must shower and breakfast.

Flying is Weird

First, before I begin, I'd like to point out that the entire journey, from leaving Abbotsford to checking in at YVR to the twelve-hour expanse of the flight, to the claiming of the baggage and whatnot, to the arrival at Jeonju University has taken less time than the shortest bus from Coquitlam to Lethbridge that Greyhound provides. And Greyhound has never fed me.

It has been a long, tiring day, with the definition of 'day' being stretched to the breaking point given the twelve hours of flying west. Here are some things I've learned:

1) Baggage is a bastard. If you think you've packed just enough, you've packed too much.

2) On such journeys, it is hard to tell when your next meal will be. Grab one when you can.

3) Don't fall asleep on the keyboard, which is what I'm threatening to do right now.

So as it's past midnight on the 18th so far as Seoul's concerned and I woke up at seven o'clock, Pacific time, on the 16th, maybe I ought to tuck myself in now. I have to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for my medical check-up tomorrow, after all. Huzzah!

The Night Before

The suitcases are packed. They did not hold as much as I'd have liked. The old apartment has been left behind in favour of my parents' house; they've still yet to divorce or murder each other.

I'm not nervous at the moment. Hurrah for atavan.

What's it going to be like? Will I like it? Who knows? I haven't any frame of reference for this thing. The farthest west I've gone is Vancouver Island. East? Halifax. South? Grand Coulee Dam. Now granted, Nova Scotia and the States are certainly foreign cultures to this British Columbian lass, but there's degrees here.

So, then.

If I never return, I leave it up to those left behind as to who gets my good crap.

Mitts off the lamp, Starsha.