Don't waste a single chance.
Some people don't have the opportunities that I have. I hope that you have the chance to go abroad and experience the exciting and unknown. Maybe you aren't as fortunate as me to have two terms abroad. Maybe your trip isn't even a semester long.
The first term I chose the wrong friends. This is not to say they are bad people, but they aren't my people. My people don't waste a moment. We stay up too late and laugh over food or alcohol or coffee. We make last minute plans and run with it. We are low maintenance, but sometimes hard to keep up with. A feeling of obligation kept me bound to my room waiting for my old group of friends to decide it was okay to go out and about. Or not.
Despite my fears it took only a "Do you have dinner plans" and I had found a like-minded friend. A leap of faith on meeting a total stranger and I had found another. It isn't too late to start again. And don't find yourself obligated to those who don't feel the same towards you.
From the moment I realized my time here could be whatever I wanted it to be I have utilized every waking moment, so much so that I haven't written a word about it. Well it is time that that is remedied.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Locker Rooms in Korea
Trying out the swim club on campus is one of the ways I am making the most of my second term at Yonsei University. They are great and welcoming people to all of the new Korean students and international students alike. They kicked my butt a few Saturdays making me swim more than I think I ever had before and then we all hung out and got some pizza specifically so I could have access to a salad bar. Simply great people, and a great experience even if I decided to club jump...
If you have ever been to a public swimming pool in the States, and likely most other places as well, then you know the basic setup. You walk into the lobby area, sign up and get a key for a locker. The boys and girls need to split up to change before meeting back up in the pool.
In Korea the key gets you into two lockers. The first is a shoe locker. This one is only for your shoes. "Well can I lock my wallet and phone up?" I asked to my much more knowledgeable and Korean friends.
They kind of smiled at me, "You don't have to. This is for shoes."
"But can I?" I asked again, unwilling to leave my wallet and phone unprotected.
This time they snickered a bit, "This one is just for shoes."
I was perplexed. "What about everything else?!"
"You put that in your other locker."
Two lockers. If you don't want to look like a goober like I did then just put your shoes in the first locker and stop asking so many questions!
The next piece of advice?
"Don't be shocked," my friend said to me, turning back over her shoulder before opening the door to the locker room.
It was a locker room. Of course people were going to be changing. For me, a locker room is a place for the briefest of nudity before throwing on your workout clothes, in this case the required one piece swimsuit and swimming cap. But in Korea this is not the case. The locker room is a place for prolonged and drawn out nudity. Adjummas gossiped and lotioned up and blew their hair dry all while naked and sending glances to those of us who were clearly foreigners.
The friends with my were varying levels or Korean. One of them had a Korean passport and Korean parents, but spent only a few weeks in Korea at a time, and the other was Korean through and through, but had spent the last several years in the states. The former worried about stares from adjummas that might be judging her athletic build, a trait not held by many Korean women, while the latter was simply not accustomed to nudity.
Fully clothed, and as white as can be, I already drew attention. I desperately didn't want to be naked.
Sadly, the within the locker room you are not allowed to wear your swimsuit. This means that the general plan of action is to strip down naked and carry your items to the shower room where you will rinse off, still naked, and then slip on your swimsuit, cap, and goggles.
A Korean-Korean girl -born in Korea, raised in Korea, always been in Korea- informed us that we shouldn't worry about being naked, but we should worry about being yelled at by the adjummas if we wore our swimsuit in the locker room.
Most foreigners in Korea are Asian. I have gotten fairly good as seeing the differences between ethnicities, just like at home someone with Greek heritage will look different from someone with Swedish heritage, but if you want a fool proof way to spot the foreigners, simply go to a swimming pool. We will be the ones with the towels wrapped around us as we slip out of our clothes and slink, swimsuits in hard, to the shower room to wiggle our way into our swimsuits without allowing our towels to drop. This may not ring true for Europeans, as the Swedish girl in the club strode proudly about as naked as the Korean women, but those of European heritage are fairly easy to identify in Korea.
After the showers you are free to swim to your hearts content! Though be warned that Korean clubs are no joke. When they say "warm-up" they mean 400+ meters of rigorous freestyle stroke. And at the end of the session when they say "game" they mean relay race...
If you have ever been to a public swimming pool in the States, and likely most other places as well, then you know the basic setup. You walk into the lobby area, sign up and get a key for a locker. The boys and girls need to split up to change before meeting back up in the pool.
In Korea the key gets you into two lockers. The first is a shoe locker. This one is only for your shoes. "Well can I lock my wallet and phone up?" I asked to my much more knowledgeable and Korean friends.
They kind of smiled at me, "You don't have to. This is for shoes."
"But can I?" I asked again, unwilling to leave my wallet and phone unprotected.
This time they snickered a bit, "This one is just for shoes."
I was perplexed. "What about everything else?!"
"You put that in your other locker."
Two lockers. If you don't want to look like a goober like I did then just put your shoes in the first locker and stop asking so many questions!
The next piece of advice?
"Don't be shocked," my friend said to me, turning back over her shoulder before opening the door to the locker room.
It was a locker room. Of course people were going to be changing. For me, a locker room is a place for the briefest of nudity before throwing on your workout clothes, in this case the required one piece swimsuit and swimming cap. But in Korea this is not the case. The locker room is a place for prolonged and drawn out nudity. Adjummas gossiped and lotioned up and blew their hair dry all while naked and sending glances to those of us who were clearly foreigners.
The friends with my were varying levels or Korean. One of them had a Korean passport and Korean parents, but spent only a few weeks in Korea at a time, and the other was Korean through and through, but had spent the last several years in the states. The former worried about stares from adjummas that might be judging her athletic build, a trait not held by many Korean women, while the latter was simply not accustomed to nudity.
Fully clothed, and as white as can be, I already drew attention. I desperately didn't want to be naked.
Sadly, the within the locker room you are not allowed to wear your swimsuit. This means that the general plan of action is to strip down naked and carry your items to the shower room where you will rinse off, still naked, and then slip on your swimsuit, cap, and goggles.
A Korean-Korean girl -born in Korea, raised in Korea, always been in Korea- informed us that we shouldn't worry about being naked, but we should worry about being yelled at by the adjummas if we wore our swimsuit in the locker room.
Most foreigners in Korea are Asian. I have gotten fairly good as seeing the differences between ethnicities, just like at home someone with Greek heritage will look different from someone with Swedish heritage, but if you want a fool proof way to spot the foreigners, simply go to a swimming pool. We will be the ones with the towels wrapped around us as we slip out of our clothes and slink, swimsuits in hard, to the shower room to wiggle our way into our swimsuits without allowing our towels to drop. This may not ring true for Europeans, as the Swedish girl in the club strode proudly about as naked as the Korean women, but those of European heritage are fairly easy to identify in Korea.
After the showers you are free to swim to your hearts content! Though be warned that Korean clubs are no joke. When they say "warm-up" they mean 400+ meters of rigorous freestyle stroke. And at the end of the session when they say "game" they mean relay race...
All in all, a wonderful experience. Culture shock does a body good.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
It's Been A Long Time (Returning to Korea and To Blogging)
I am so grateful to have another term here in the wonderful country of South Korea. Last term I let a break-up taint my experience and I let this "funk", as I so lovingly called my sour mood, keep me from blogging.
My second term here is another chance to do things right. And what better way to start a grand new adventure than with a stressful international flight.
Get to the airport at least an hour early. Yes, we all know this. I know this, you reading this undoubtedly knows this. But you'll be reminded anyway. No, the woman at the Alaskan Airlines counter does not care that your itinerary says Delta and so you went to the Delta counter only to wait and be told that actually your flight is with Alaskan. She also doesn't care that you waited in line for 30 minutes to talk to her. No. There is a strict 40 minute cutoff and she was not going to let me on my flight. You see, I only had 38 minutes.
"What can I do, then?" I asked. Internally I told myself not to make a fuss or panic. I would get to Korea one way or another. I just hoped I didn't need to buy a new ticket.
She let out an exasperated huff. "Let me go ask my supervisor."
When she returned she informed me that they would make an exception for me (how kind) and she took my bag gave me my boarding pass. "Hurry," she said with a condescending sort of tone, "You only have 30 minutes. You better run."
"Thank you," I said, because my Pacific Northwest heart wouldn't allow me not to, and I hurried through security (five minutes) and down to the last gate (ten minutes) found my seat (mere moments) and waited for my plane to take off (about fourty-five minutes). Tell me to run... The woman at the desk continued to piss me off for most of the flight, but not as much as the two people seated to my right who discussed wine and Italy and the irresponsibility of twenty-somethings in a flirty fashion the entire two hours to LAX.
My layover in LAX was only two hours from landing of one plane to the taking off of the other. No problem. I stupidly thought to myself. In LAX if you are transferring to an international flight you have to go to an outside terminal, Tom Bradley, with its own security.
TSA is allowed to be frustrated. I get it. Your job isn't easy. Although often times they should be frustrated, they usually are not. I have never had a bad experience with TSA in PDX. Not so much as a downward turned mouth. Besides maybe a firm voice where necessary I have never experienced a TSA agent be anything but nice.
Tom Bradley is where they send the surliest and least patient TSA agents to all piss each other off. Security took about an hour and a half which is a little nerve racking in and of its own. But the agents made it far worse. Nearly all of us in line were waiting to go to South Korea and, with the size of the plane, it should have been assumed that we all needed to go through security. But our mere existence pissed them off. One agent had an elderly woman with a Chinese passport come up and she spoke loudly and slowly despite the woman speaking English.
"Wooooooow..." the agent said. "You're late. You're plane is boarding already. Do you know boarding?"
"Yes," the woman said, "I have been waiting in line."
This response should have been enough for the agent to stop speaking to her like a child who just drank the secret stash of horse tranquilizers. But it wasn't.
"It is 10:35. TEN. THIRTY. FIVE. Do you understand? You should be on your plane by now."
"I have been waiting in line since before nine-thirty," the woman said with more patience and sweetness than I knew someone could muster in such a situation. I would have gladly decked the agent for her if I hadn't been in a separate line (and also afraid of being tased).
The agent looked away, before handing the woman's passport and boarding pass back. "Don't know what to tell you. Run, run, run," she said, making the motion of running with her index and middle fingers.
Because running through the scanners passed TSA agents is the best of advice.
If you are going to have such a frustrating start to your day followed by a thirteen hour flight, make sure that flight is with Korean Air.
Holy F bomb.
I sat down in my seat as the uber kind flight attendants put my heavy carry-on in the overhead compartment. In front of me was a television that I assumed they would show the in-flight movies on.
Before I could look into it much another flight attendant came up to me. "Excuse me, miss. Did you order the vegetarian meal?"
Relief. "Yes," I said with a smile. "Thank you."
"Would you like a drink with lunch?"
"Oh, no thank you," I said, maintaining my smile but inwardly thinking Ain't nobody got money for that!
My focus returned to the TV in front of me. My initial assumption had been wrong. You choose what you want to watch. And I don't mean just reruns of Friends and Two and a Half Men (though they have those). They had brand new movies like Gravity, Last Vegas, Thor, etc., documentaries on travel, food, and a million other things. Korean shows were listed. They even had games to play.
Gravity... I thought to myself. That was supposed to be really good. I wonder how much it is. But the only two buttons offered were "Play" and "Trailer". I assumed if I hit play it would then prompt me to pay for it, or at least tell me the price. But the movie simply started.
I looked one way, then the other. Did I break it? Did it charge my card automatically?
I paused a moment longer as the unthinkable came to my mind.
Was it free?
Indeed it was. Along with comfortable seats (the most comfortable economy has to offer anyway), two full meals and two snacks, along with a constant barrage of refreshments, all the movies shows and games were free.
I suddenly got a nauseating feeling in my stomach...Had I turned down a free drink?
Indeed, I had.
My second term here is another chance to do things right. And what better way to start a grand new adventure than with a stressful international flight.
Get to the airport at least an hour early. Yes, we all know this. I know this, you reading this undoubtedly knows this. But you'll be reminded anyway. No, the woman at the Alaskan Airlines counter does not care that your itinerary says Delta and so you went to the Delta counter only to wait and be told that actually your flight is with Alaskan. She also doesn't care that you waited in line for 30 minutes to talk to her. No. There is a strict 40 minute cutoff and she was not going to let me on my flight. You see, I only had 38 minutes.
"What can I do, then?" I asked. Internally I told myself not to make a fuss or panic. I would get to Korea one way or another. I just hoped I didn't need to buy a new ticket.
She let out an exasperated huff. "Let me go ask my supervisor."
When she returned she informed me that they would make an exception for me (how kind) and she took my bag gave me my boarding pass. "Hurry," she said with a condescending sort of tone, "You only have 30 minutes. You better run."
"Thank you," I said, because my Pacific Northwest heart wouldn't allow me not to, and I hurried through security (five minutes) and down to the last gate (ten minutes) found my seat (mere moments) and waited for my plane to take off (about fourty-five minutes). Tell me to run... The woman at the desk continued to piss me off for most of the flight, but not as much as the two people seated to my right who discussed wine and Italy and the irresponsibility of twenty-somethings in a flirty fashion the entire two hours to LAX.
My layover in LAX was only two hours from landing of one plane to the taking off of the other. No problem. I stupidly thought to myself. In LAX if you are transferring to an international flight you have to go to an outside terminal, Tom Bradley, with its own security.
TSA is allowed to be frustrated. I get it. Your job isn't easy. Although often times they should be frustrated, they usually are not. I have never had a bad experience with TSA in PDX. Not so much as a downward turned mouth. Besides maybe a firm voice where necessary I have never experienced a TSA agent be anything but nice.
Tom Bradley is where they send the surliest and least patient TSA agents to all piss each other off. Security took about an hour and a half which is a little nerve racking in and of its own. But the agents made it far worse. Nearly all of us in line were waiting to go to South Korea and, with the size of the plane, it should have been assumed that we all needed to go through security. But our mere existence pissed them off. One agent had an elderly woman with a Chinese passport come up and she spoke loudly and slowly despite the woman speaking English.
"Wooooooow..." the agent said. "You're late. You're plane is boarding already. Do you know boarding?"
"Yes," the woman said, "I have been waiting in line."
This response should have been enough for the agent to stop speaking to her like a child who just drank the secret stash of horse tranquilizers. But it wasn't.
"It is 10:35. TEN. THIRTY. FIVE. Do you understand? You should be on your plane by now."
"I have been waiting in line since before nine-thirty," the woman said with more patience and sweetness than I knew someone could muster in such a situation. I would have gladly decked the agent for her if I hadn't been in a separate line (and also afraid of being tased).
The agent looked away, before handing the woman's passport and boarding pass back. "Don't know what to tell you. Run, run, run," she said, making the motion of running with her index and middle fingers.
Because running through the scanners passed TSA agents is the best of advice.
If you are going to have such a frustrating start to your day followed by a thirteen hour flight, make sure that flight is with Korean Air.
Holy F bomb.
I sat down in my seat as the uber kind flight attendants put my heavy carry-on in the overhead compartment. In front of me was a television that I assumed they would show the in-flight movies on.
Before I could look into it much another flight attendant came up to me. "Excuse me, miss. Did you order the vegetarian meal?"
Relief. "Yes," I said with a smile. "Thank you."
"Would you like a drink with lunch?"
"Oh, no thank you," I said, maintaining my smile but inwardly thinking Ain't nobody got money for that!
My focus returned to the TV in front of me. My initial assumption had been wrong. You choose what you want to watch. And I don't mean just reruns of Friends and Two and a Half Men (though they have those). They had brand new movies like Gravity, Last Vegas, Thor, etc., documentaries on travel, food, and a million other things. Korean shows were listed. They even had games to play.
Gravity... I thought to myself. That was supposed to be really good. I wonder how much it is. But the only two buttons offered were "Play" and "Trailer". I assumed if I hit play it would then prompt me to pay for it, or at least tell me the price. But the movie simply started.
I looked one way, then the other. Did I break it? Did it charge my card automatically?
I paused a moment longer as the unthinkable came to my mind.
Was it free?
Indeed it was. Along with comfortable seats (the most comfortable economy has to offer anyway), two full meals and two snacks, along with a constant barrage of refreshments, all the movies shows and games were free.
I suddenly got a nauseating feeling in my stomach...Had I turned down a free drink?
Indeed, I had.
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