My incredibly long journey

I wish I could be one of those sensible travelers who packs lightly and practically, but I’m not. Instead I’m the type who packs a big, bulky quilt and record albums, telling myself I’ll NEED them in Korea. Of course when picking out luggage I opted for the biggest and probably the most hoosierish choice: HOCKEY BAGS! Not exactly the classiest way to travel, but I was able to fit in all my ridiculous things with room to spare. Plus, they brought happiness to the lives of everyone in their realm…except for the poor airport workers, of course.








Saying good-bye to everyone was definitely a weird experience. I didn’t realize how emotional it was going to be. My tearful goodbye with my roomies, and the memory of looking back in my rearview mirror and seeing Emz and Carly standing forlorn in the streets will forever be etched into my memory… as well as my dad sniffling and putting his arm around me tighter and tighter before we parted ways. My mom took me to the airport early Monday morning and after our hurried good-bye, I realized this was really it. I was going to Korea.



Saying goodbye to Pops.
Mama Helen modeling the hockey bags.
Mom's attempt to take a picture of me with all my bags.

My flight was a complete blur. I slept most of the trip, waking up long enough to eat about six dinners. Why is it that I was always able to wake up long enough to ingest food into my body? I'm convinced the flight attendants sent surges of electric into my chair to alert me that food was coming…or maybe I’m just a fatty.
At one point, I woke up with two pillows and freaked out because I thought in my sleep I had somehow rolled over and stolen my little Japanese neighbor’s pillow, but when I tapped him on the shoulder and motioned towards it, he pulled one from under his head. I have no idea how or where I got the other pillow.

Literally, in the middle of nowhere.


Snow covered nothingness.


The best ramen of my life.

I arrived in Seoul late Tuesday night. I knew someone was picking me up from the airport, but I had no idea what to expect. When I walked into the waiting area, I was completely overwhelmed. There was a huge mass of people holding up signs both in Korean and English. It was the weirdest feeling walking past a big crowd of people anxiously searching for my name. I found my little Korean driver, we gathered my bags, and he handed me his phone with my director on the other line. She told me that the drive from Seoul to Daejeon was about three hours, and since I had to be at the school at 9am the next day, I should try and sleep in the car. Looking back, after my driver drove in the same circle in the airport parking lot for about ten minutes, I should have been a little concerned, but I was so exhausted that once we hit the road, I crashed (hmmm, great word choice, perhaps I’m foreshadowing).
I woke up when we stopped at a tollbooth in the middle of nowhere. My driver and the tollbooth lady were talking, and I’m assuming she told him he was going the wrong way, because once we left the booth, he made a sharp u-turn…except there was one slight problem. He overlooked the fact that there was a big concrete divider/median in the middle of the road. We lurched forward and our car was stuck with two tires on one side of the road and two tires on the other side of the road. My driver kept trying to give it gas. I guess he thought if he revved up enough he could back out...I have no idea. When he realized he was only tearing up his car even more, he made me get out while he ran to get help. As I was standing on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere on my first night in Korea, I realized I should probably be scared, but more than anything I was amused.





After the tow truck came and we clunked along with the front bumper of our car hanging off, we finally reached Daejeon at about two in the morning. When we first drove into the city, I sat up and my driver started saying something to me in Korean. After I looked at him blankly, he did a slight jig and shouted, “CANADA, CANADA, CANADA!?!” I laughed, pointed at myself, and said, “No, USA." He grinned back and said, “Ahhhh, USA." Oh, little Korean driver man, thank you for my first adventure.

So, I made it. I miss you all and I hope I can be faithful in keeping up with this blog!

Welcome to my neighborhood: Song Chon Dong