here

Yo-ho! Two weeks have past! After a 12 hour flight into the most ergonomically designed airport ever, hour long bus ride through rice fields, valleys of mud slopes at low tide, charmingly condensed urban and rural life, and the following three days of hilarious and absurdly cute Korean kids and some already amazing and beautiful people, I am in Korea. It is very hard to adequately portray the feeling of being here, as it has been a complete burst of newness. I couldn't even get to this blog until after arriving four days ago, but already, there is so much to think about, dissect, and analyze. What's most shocking is how little culture shock has set in (at least not yet) and I am stunned by my lack of trans-globe fatigue. It practically makes no sense. I barely even slept on the plane. But I am here and in it and feeling like I've finally done something huge in my life completely on my own. 

So, to start off, the plane ride began with a mad dash to the international terminal from a two hour delayed arrival into San Francisco. Because a handful of people were transferring to Seoul on the the said flight, our magical flight steward made some "magic" (an expression he used at least five times) happen by telling everyone aboard to not get up until we were at the front of the plane. I have to say, it felt really nice walking through first class wearing cutoffs and a hoodie, watching dozens of eyes impatiently stare me down as I, last in line, exited the plane. "Hello! I am your inferior relishing in my two and half minutes of completely inane superiority! Thank yooooooooouuuuuuu!" 

Well I made the flight to Seoul with a host of my counterparts scurrying to get into the dying remnants of a line boarding the plane. "Yes I have my passport! Yes I have my confirmation ticket! Yes! Yes! I am ready for this!"

I stepped on, looked into the decadent sleeping pods trimmed with ten square feet of personal space in first class, and was immediately slapped back into my airplane riding reality. However, it wasn't all bad, as when I was shuffling to my seat and dreading sitting in an armpit for twelve hours, I was pleasantly taken aback at how I had happened to evade such bad luck. The seat beckoned me like a holy grail, bursting with magically glowing well-worn cotton threads, a cellophane-wrapped blanket, and the oh so extravagant Tyvek pillow. I had been fortunate enough to be graced with the godly throne of seat 30B, the emergency exit row, and over five feet of legroom in the clouds. 

For the next twelve hours, I sat next to a well built, completely grizzled, Louisiana drawling Iraq war veteran traveling abroad to "get some stuff." We had a number of friendly conversations about North Korea, his love of boats, and life goal of traveling the Pacific Rim in a catamaran and not caring whether his 20 year old wife would want to join him or not. I asked him about serving in Iraq and he delved into things I wasn't expecting, aligning many of his points with America's supposed solid course into developing into a Marxist state (and most interestingly, claiming that once I was in South Korea, how I'd see they "are freer here than in the U.S."). I steered clear of U.S. politics and we ended up discussing the threat of North Korea, much of which I am admittedly lagging behind on completely understanding. It was interesting getting his perspective and the logic behind it, as it seemed to make sense in his context and understanding how close we were traveling to said country. It actually did a lot for me, expanding my bubble to include the reality of the threat, knowing I was closer to it on the plane and would be for the next year. But I also learned that much of the logic behind this threat is completely irrational and stupid. South Koreans do not feel threatened. It is understood here that if the North were to attack, the resources it has to sustain any type of conflict would dwindle so fast, the government would probably collapse if it pushed too far. This is not suggesting it couldn't inflict sufficient damage and major harm on its neighboring countries, but unlike the Taliban or Al-Queada or Terrorism, North Korea is a legitimately recognized governed society, feeding into the endless swarm of political mess. Needless to say, I was very appreciative of my seat partner's presence the whole way there. 

We arrived and it was off to Wonderland. Some medical screening (as in checking forms we filled out on the plane) was conducted, and everyone followed each other through the sleekest, cleanest, nicest airport ever built to the baggage claim and then onward to bus travel into Seoul. I was greeted by a man holding a Mr. Paul Schaffenberger sign and was directed to my bus and which stop to get off at. I arrived and was immediately greeted by two members of my school and set up in a hotel approximately 200 feet from where I got off. I then toured the school and met everyone there. It was really fantastic. I think I am really going to love being here. I love it already. I am comfortable in the school after being there for two days. The biggest challenge is going to be learning how to teach, but I am going to take it and run. So, as I sit here in my new Korean apartment, eating squid flavored chips, and just starting my whole life changing saga, I anticipate learning and discovering and blogging about it all. The best is yet to come (including pictures: my camera is being a downright fool at the moment).