This is my sweet volunteer translator who went with me to Wonju.

Everyone thought I was crazy when I stopped to photo this stepping off the plane…

Yea Hee (the translator arranged for me by G.O.A.L. for my birth family search) and I agree to meet at the Express Bus Terminal, which is on the subway line.  Problem is, the agreed upon exit (all the exits are numbered) is closed.  So I have to acost strangers with, “do you speak English?”  I finally went up to the subway ticket counter and the guy had me come inside and use their phone.  (I can’t get a phone for a couple of weeks)

While waiting for her, I asked a boy for a cigarette, even though it is looked down upon for women to smoke at all and especially not in public.  I asked if he knew English and he said no.  See, I think most of the Koreans under thirty actually know quite a bit of English, but they all insist they don’t know any of it just because they know they can’t speak it very well.

Anyway, Yea Hee shows up and she, too, is this tiny little thing.  Very pretty.  She could be an actress, but she is a nursing student who spent a year in England and is applying for medical school in Hawaii.

On the bus trip, I hand her the Wonju document and I get a thorough reading of it for the first time.  It appears that the form that was filled out was an admittance form of sorts to a hospital.  The name of the man at the bottom is a police officer.  The other form says I was admitted from Wonju City Hall, so it is a little confusing as to where and how I was abandoned.  We have a really nice conversation about education and Korea and English until the man behind us tells Yea Hee we need to stop talking.  Since he’s telling this 45 minutes into an hour long trip, I tell her -gosh, he should have let us know a lot earlier!  Her eyes get wide.  Apparantly by stop talking, it really meant I shouldn’t have said even one more thing ever.  Both Yea Hee and Mi Young live with their mothers.  I guess everyone lives with their mothers until they get married (or escape to foreign schools)

I took a little footage of Wonju, but it is kind of scrubby and nonspecific looking.  It’s in the mountains, it’s winter bare and dreary, there is agriculture in the area, and the ubiquitous high rise apartments everywhere.  It touts itself in English with signs as “Healthy Wonju.”  At the City Hall, many people help us as we go from desk to another desk to some office concerning women, each time Yea Hae explaining patiently.  Turns out, Wonju scrapped all old documents about ten years ago.  Others from your time have come too, and there has been nothing for them.  I am sorry, she says.   It’s okay.  I didn’t expect anything.

Next stop – police station.  We get sent to an investigator’s room, and one of them tells Yea Hee that the officer mentioned in the document has passed away.  It turns out that the mention of “hospital” is wrong.  It really means institution, and it was common back then to go from City Hall and take the abandoned child to the nearest orphan center, which was what we previously thought was the hospital.  So the document is really an intake document from the orphan center that Holt was affiliated with, and that is why it is totally unofficial.  The official documents from Wonju City Hall no longer exist.  The kind police officers really went above and beyond though, and we were taken into another office where two of them worked for half an hour cross referencing the deceased police officer’s name with other officers, trying to find out who his partner was at the time.  We were told it might take several hours, but that they would get back with us.

So Yea Hee and I went to eat.  We went to a divey old place with ondol flooring and low tables serving traditional Korean food.  Think really old greasy spoon – but Korean.  Very cool.  Worn out.  Faded.  Comfortable.  I got enough mandu to serve an army.  I’ve decided there is no way I can eat out anymore – there’s just too much damn food.  But it was super yummy.  Yae Hee laughed when I would pick up big things with my chopsticks and just bite the ends off.  It seems we are supposed to cut things up with our chopsticks first.  She ate very delicately, everything in small bites.  So even though she complimented me on eating Korean well (I guess most adoptees here have never eaten traditional Korean food) I still eat like a heathen.

On the ride home, neither of us talked, afraid some adjosshi was going to yell at us to shut up.  So we both nodded off to sleep.

In the evening, hung out at Koroot for awhile.  There is one adoptee here from Seattle, that has been here for something like 15 years?  Has a wife and kids.  Went out to eat with two of the adoptees at a night market.  One of them from the Netherlands arrived here five months ago, unfortunately a month after his first father died.  He moved in with his first mother only a week later and lives with her in Suwon.  He’s currently in an inheritance battle with his Korean cousins over his first father’s estate!  He doesn’t know any Korean…

Today I’m moving to my apartment!  Yayy!  I won’t have internet there, though, and will have to find a PC Bang somewhere.  I can’t find my credit card – so I have to turn everything upside down and/or retrace my steps (nightmare) in this city of 11 million.

At 2 pm, Mi-Young arrives.   She’s a very tiny English student who is unemployed and volunteers with English speakers for practice.  So sweet and helpful!  She very patiently explained the subway system and (sort of) the bus system to me.

We go to the very center of Seoul where the government buildings are and the second we get off the subway, we see a notary public in a storefront barely wide enough for a desk.  She explains for me what the documents are for, and he makes a great fuss looking over them.  Then he calls somebody and tell us he can’t do it and gives us directions to a notary with more authority.  We get there, and it is easier to explain what we need.  Then, as Sara can attest to once she gets the documents, there are many official papers to go along with the notarization and stamps on everything.  So official!  It kind of reminded me of children pretending to be president and making extra rules for everyone so we could feel important…Each paper cost 35,000 won – 70,000 total!  Mi-Young nearly had a heart attack.  Then, it was off to the post office.

At the post office, it was so nice compared to a U.S. post office!  There were zero lines, and a man who it appeared was his only job, was to greet us and perform triage.  So he asked us what we needed, and he estimated how much it would cost and walked us over to the correct station.  Super!

Mi-Young then found me a pharmacy, as I told her I needed aspirin for a low-grade fever.  She told me “water pills” were much better than aspirin and ordered some for me.  So she told the pharmacist something, and he handed me some gelcaps filled with clear liquid.  And then they also procured a disposable cup and water so I could take one immediately.  I think they worked eventually!  (whatever they were)

Then, it was off to the G.O.A.L. office.  It was really hard to find – their map didn’t include any streetnames, (they often don’t) the landmarks drawn on the map weren’t recognizable (they used nightclubs and it was daytime and didn’t see any signs for clubs) and we just walked around confused for a little bit.  I was freezing, so we went into a 7-11 and had some instant coffee.  It was like pulling teeth buying her a coffee, the least I could do since she was taking time to help me out and I knew she didn’t have any money.  Korean hospitality.  Anyway, several calls later and finally someone from the office came to retrieve us.  Turns out the small sign for their office is about two stories up, so it’s no wonder we never saw it.

I invited Mi-Young to sit in on my meeting, which she was reluctant to do since she thought it was private.  But I could tell she was really interested.  G.O.A.L. talked with me about the upcoming KBS t.v. pre-interview and my trip to Wonju the following day.  At the mention of KBS, Mi-Young’s eyes got very big and she said she had never been there before.  She asked if she could go to KBS and be my volunteer translator, and I said it was okay by me if she tagged along.  She was very agressive and asked  G.O.A.L. whether or not she could go.  (I was so proud of her, as she’s a little timid!)  G.O.A.L. was kind of against it because they weren’t sure what her translating skills were.  But  I’m going to call her and let her come anyway.  I also talked with one worker there who had also been yanked around by Holt.  He and I bitched about our experiences with them, and he said it was only them, because his sister had been adopted by SWS and they gave her everything and were extremely helpful.  Holt’s the oldest and the first, they processed the most adoptions, and they’ve also screwed up things more than any other agencies.  Anyway, we also discussed Korean language lessons and they gave me scholarship applications.  I still wonder if I can afford it right away or not.

After G.O.A.L., the next mission was to find a winter coat.  Mi-Young took me to Idae (sp?) which was very close to where we were, like two subway stops.  The area where we were is the locale of a major confluence of universities, so it is full of hip little shops and the buildings are more at a human scale.  Sooooooo many cute clothes to die for!  All moderately priced, well made and cute.  Dongdaemmon is another big shopping center a little further down the subway line where everything is bargain basement cheap and where most students shop, but the clothing looks cheap too.  So I chose Idae.

Problem is, even though it was 20 degrees outside, just like in the states, the spring lines were on the racks and few coats were to be had.  Some I liked but they were not warm at all.  Some I liked but were totally inappropriate for a teacher to wear.  On our way to Giordano, we went into a shop called Tate, across from Calvin Klein.  Like all the other shops we went to, Mi-Young would explain what I wanted for me and they would point to their remaining stock of coats. (gosh volunteer translators are wonderful)  Only this time, there was nothing to point to.  Don’t worry says Mi-Young, they are getting some hidden stock out for you.  And then they produce probably the best coat I will be able to find at this late date. (and we’re both getting tired of shopping) It was originally like a $300 coat, half off, and then Mi-Young kept insisting on a discount, and then she told them my whole story, and kept holding out for a discount.  So they gave her/us a small one!  Yayy Mi-Young!  Sadly, the shopkeeper pulled out a size medium.  In Asia, I am a size medium.   No more being the tiniest of the tiny.  Here I am average girth, if not a bit heavy.  (but my feet are still too small to find shoes most places)  Later, as we were walking down the street, me with my new coat on, carrying my documents in a TATE shopping bag, along with a complimentary TATE valentine’s toothbrush, we get accosted by some girls asking for the whereabouts of TATE.  Mi-Young explains that TATE is the most famous fashion store out of China, maybe the only famous fashion store out of China, and that everyone loves TATE.  She points out that with my shopping bag, I am a walking advertisement.

It was now time to find someplace to eat.  While discussing food, I mentioned that I had Kimchee chiggae the day before.  Do you like chiggae?  Yes, Mi-Young likes soup – especially dog soup, but that is only for the summer.   Very healthy for you, she says.  We stopped and ate at some restaurant, and I let Mi-Young order.  She pointed to some noodles with black beans (NOT black bean noodles) and said that was her favorite – but it is a summer dish.  I asked the waitor for some, and he said they didn’t have it – only in summer.  It’s a mystery to me why noodles and beans has to be limited to summer…so anyway, I let Mi-Young order us some seafood noodle soup.  I asked for some hot tea and the waiter was confused and her eyes got very big.  In America, most Asian restaurants you get hot tea when you order, I explain.  Oh no!  That is very unusual!  Turns out Koreans eat from cold to hot.  Hot tea is for AFTER dinner.  After dinner, I paid for dinner and she was upset.  I told her she could pay the tip, and her eyes got big again.  No tipping.  I guess there is no tipping in Korea.  So I explained about tipping in America.  Oh.  You teach me so much, she says…

Finally, finally I can go home and sleep some more.  Mi-Young gets revenge for my paying for dinner by giving me a T-money card (the re-fillable magnetic card you pay for subways and buses with) she had found and put 5,000 won on it.  Okay.  So at least we’re square now.  On the trip home, Mi-Young thanked me profusely for the day, saying she had never been so far from home and was very happy about all the new experiences.

Due to the misunderstanding about my start date and my willingness to meet the Vice Principal on zero notice, the recruiter told me he would pay for my cab fare to the high school.  The cab arrives and I had assumed people had told him where to go, but it’s silly to make assumptions.  Let’s just say the cabbie was very grumpy very soon, as he got about three different phone calls as the plans got changed in transit.  We ended up going to the recruiter’s office about a half hour away where everyone apologized to me and I had to wait for the recruiter to show up.  Then, together we travelled in his car to Anyang, about forty minutes away.

We rolled up to the huge high school, which seemed deserted (I think school is out right now) and went to the Vice Principal’s office, where I met my new co-teacher, Pat, and the Vice Principal. (will have to look up his name)  The recruiter explained again their mistake and they all reassured me that nobody thought it was my fault, and then immediately went over contract matters.  First on order was they want me to teach two or three extra classes for overtime pay each week, as supplements for the poorer students.  (overtime pay being a whopping $7.00 US per hour)  Oh well – anything to look good at first I guess.  I explained how I was willing to do that, but that it would have to work around language classes.  What days do the language classes run?  I don’t know – I haven’t chosen the classes yet (I’ve only been in Korea for three hours, for christ’s sake!)  Can you move into your apartment today?  I explain how I have booked up appointments for the next two weeks and how I would like to wait until the previously scheduled date.  But they really want me to move in as soon as possible.  The following Thursday there will be an orientation I must attend.  Why?  I thought teacher orientation was in April?  (which makes absolutely no sense, since classes start in March…)  Oh no – this is a CULTURAL  field trip.  They want all new teachers to go to the national museum and visit some heritage sites.  Well, that sounds cool with me and I’ve got nothing scheduled that day.  Oh – and we forgot to mention that there is a teacher orientation next Tuesday.  Teacher orientation?  Yes.  It is for all the high school teachers.  We will introduce you and want you to say something to the school.  Oh.  Great.  Yes.  We want you to already be moved in so we can have you come to the school to discuss your teaching philosophies with the Vice Principal and the Principal, and talk to the co-teacher about curriculum, etc.  Oh.  When can you move in?  After showing them my packed schedule, I finally agree to moving into my new apartment in two days.  Sure.  No pressure.  Arrangements are made to have my stuff transported.  The recruiter leaves, and the Vice Principal and co-teacher whisk me off to the apartment.

The apartment is, as expected, an officetel, which is one of those high-rise apartment blocks consisting primarily of studios that blanket all of Korea.  It’s about 20 minutes walk from the school.  I am on the 10th floor.  Actually, it is the 9th floor, but in Korea the buildings don’t have a 4th floor.  Pat tells me that 4 is associated with death and unlucky.  (I will video it tomorrow when I move in)  Just like all of the officetels for teachers shown on youtube, it is super efficient, very modern, and surprisingly roomy.  (of course, I just moved out of a cabin that was under 400 sf)  They kept showing me all the things they did in preparation:  food in the fridge, all new dishes, new rice cooker, new toaster, a supply of tea, a microwave, bedding on the bed (which is way beyond what I’ve heard/seen other schools doing for their foreign teachers) an extra dishrack, and (drumroll please) a Costco-size supply of toilet paper.  All new all for you!

After checking out the apartment, we go down to the manager’s office and I am given paperwork to sign and a 24 hour emergency number.  We are all about to go out to eat, but the VP must leave for some meeting, so Pat and I head to the hospital for my required physical exam.  I’m about to get hypothermia at this point, because it is still only 20 degrees outside and I didn’t have time to think and dress for the weather, so I’ve got no socks on, my legs are exposed, and my coat isn’t heavy enough.  Pat offers me her coat, which I refuse since she’s not dressed much warmer (but very fashionably in black patterned stockings and high heels) and then wants to go purchase stockings for me, which I also think is just taking hospitality too far.  At the hospital, in the elevator, I notice there is a 4th floor.  I ask about the 4th floor being associated with death.  Oh no!  that is not in public buildings – only residences.  Curious.  I would think a hospital would be even MORE worried about associations with death…

So I fill out the paperwork and expect to just get my piss test and blood draw, but no – I am filed through room after room going through the whole battery of a complete physical:  xray, hearing test, vision test, the whole nine yards.  By this time, I am actually full on feverish, but strangely, a temperature taking is not part of the physical.  Finally, by the last consultation I get a doctor who can speak English, and he asks how I’m feeling and I get to tell someone I’m a little under the weather.  He nods and takes a note.

Back into the cold and the co-teacher walks me towards food and asks me what I want to eat.  Like I even know!  I remember the word chiggae (soup) and she takes me to a place and I have some Kimchee chiggae, which warms me up, but I can only eat half of it.  Finally – finally I can go home.  Only, the VP has told Pat it is her responsibility to get me home.  So she accompanies me to the subway and rides with me the entire way back to the district in Seoul where my guesthouse is.  Only from the subway, we have to get out and find a bus.   I am so cold and feverish at this point I just tell her no, I must take a cab.  I feel bad, because I know she will insist on paying, and I fear I’ve already broken her bank account.   But I’m too sick to care at this point.  It’s about 6 pm.  I invite her in, but she lives far away, and of course she wants to go home.  I also feel bad because I’ve been complaining about freezing.  She explains that the sooner my medical checkup gets approved, the sooner I get my alien registration card, the sooner I can get a bank account and telephone.  All for you.  We’re sorry we’re making you do this all today, and we hope you don’t get sick (I didn’t tell them I was already sick) but we’re doing this to make things easier for you. Thank you.  Please let me die now…

Back at the guest house, I say hello to everyone – there are two male adoptees – one from the U.S. who was part of the “First Trip Home” Reunion Tour a month ago that found his birthmother.  He got laid off upon return to the U.S., so turned around and is here trying to find a job.  The other male adoptee here is from Denmark, and I don’t know his story yet.  There is a Belgian girl living in the basement going to school here in Seoul, and an American girl named Lee who has been living in Korea almost 3 years, but who is staying at the guest house while she saves up key money (the Korean equivalent of a deposit – only it’s a really really huge sum) so she isn’t bound to live in housing furnished by her employers.  Because she works in Hagwans (private cram schools) that cater to preschoolers, this is a good plan, since they are unpredictable in many ways.  I say hello to them all and then go straight to bed.  Get up in the middle of the night, and have a piece of toast.  I wake up at breakfast time, have a bowl of cereal, ask the volunteer how I find a notary public, and she assigns a volunteer to come meet me at 2 pm the following day.   Go back to bed and wake up at noon.  I think I must have slept about 14 hours altogether.

Well, two days ago…

I guess I should begin where I left off, which was at the Bangkok airport, about the time my laptop battery died…

I stupidly was too cheap to pay the extra 500 baht for a flight closer to my departure flight for Seoul, so as a result I had an 11 hour layover.  I figured I’d just hang out in the airport, study survival Korean, read, etc., and it would all be good.  WRONG!  It is really hard to just relax when you have four overweight bags, a coat and a sweater to babysit.  Practically impossible to go to the bathroom.  Impossible to take a nap.  Impossible to do anything but just squirm in discomfort.  Top that off, and I was dressed in my heaviest clothing – to save weight from my checked items, and to not freeze my ass off when I got to Korea.  Only the air conditioning at the Bangkok airport was not very high or very effective, and so I just sweat profusely for 11 hours.  I’d go outside to have a smoke in the 80+ degree weather, sweat buckets, go and get something cold to drink to lower my temperature, and then try to go to the bathroom carting all my stuff…So this is what I did for 11 hours.  Read a little.  Ipod battery died.  Mostly just squirmed and sweated.

Finally, check-in time came and damn, 12 kilos overweight.  So had to go pay $258 to keep going!  At least my mileage got added to my frequent flyer membership, as Thai airways and Asiana have a partnership for mileage…Then came living hell…the immigration line then security check took twice as long as it should have, and I had to give up my luggage trolly, which doesn’t seem like such a big deal – but my 14 lb. bandoneon and my 24 lb. carry-on really got to me after awhile.  And then the distance from check-in to the terminal went on forever.  Bangkok’s International terminal is HUGE, and there are not just duty-free shops off to the side – instead it is like you have to walk through an entire mall which is all duty-free – and it goes on forever.  It was really surreal – am I at the airport or rodeo drive?  when does the terminal begin?  I began to despair – I wanted to cry!  Finally, I saw some smaller carts and had a momentary reprieve from being a pack mule.  Only to find that once the mile of mall had ended, we had to go through yet another security check where trolleys were not allowed.  and of course, my gate was way the fuck a mile away (yeah, I’m exaggerating now)  Only it had taken soooo damn long at immigration, that of course I had to run as my flight was boarding…By this time my clothes were just drenched in sweat.

At the gate was a sea of adjosshis and adjumas (sirs and madames – i.e., older Koreans) sitting and waiting for all the youngsters to board.  (one brilliant thing about the BKK airport is they have separate entrances for first class and travel class, so both can board at the same time)  Anyway, the adjosshis and adjumas were every bit the characterization you’ve seen in the media.  Mostly all dumpy, wearing comfortable unattractive clothing, the women all with bad perms, the men with strange shaped tummys.  Hardly the high-fashion trendy look I was expecting of Koreans and I also guess I expected the older Koreans to dress a little more up-to-date.  But instead, it looked like their clothes were from the 70’s.  Yet brand new.  Maybe they are selling 70’s overstock somewhere…It was my first culture shock!  But then again, they were all talking to each other, enjoying themselves, having a laugh.

The Asiana flight attendents on this redeye inter-asia flight were not quite as courteous as the ones coming from America.  In fact, they seemed rather put-out at times.  I had an aisle seat, and therefore was unable to lean against the bulkhead and sleep, plus the aircon was up pretty high and my sweaty clothing was not chilling the crap out of me.  I DID manage to fall asleep for awhile – during dinner, of course.  The screen in front of me said that the temperature was 80 degrees leaving Bangkok.  The screen at arrival said that it was 20 degrees in Seoul…again, the distance from arrival gate to baggage pickup felt like a mile.  I let others just pass me as I rested on the people movers, wondering if I was coming down with something.  Korean immigration and customs went smoothly, and then I went outside to find the limousine bus to Koreana hotel and bam!  20 degree weather is not something I have experienced for a long time.  And again, I was all covered in sweat from carrying those overweight bags.  After realizing the bus route I had been told to take was wrong, finding a ticket counter and purchasing the correct one, and then loading the bus, I experienced the first of what will probably be my life here – getting told something in Korean, me not responding, because I don’t know Korean, and then getting yelled at.  Maybe I should learn sign language or something.  The bus ride from Incheon takes quite a long time – it’s really weird to go from the tropics with everything green – to Korea in winter – and especially Incheon in winter, as the coastal area here seems all industrial hills, practically denuded, and the trees that do exist are just gray leafless twigs.  Then, you come up to (probably Bucheon) some sci-fi world of housing block after housing block after housing block in an untterly inhuman scale and densisty and they look totally dead, but you know that they are like beehives with thousands and thousands of people living in them.  And then you hit Seoul, and there is this strange mix of future and past in a rolling concrete landscape that stretches on forever.  And it just gets bigger and bigger and more urbane.  And as I’m taking this in, I am sleeping for short bits – five minutes here, take something in, sleep five minutes there, repeat.  Finally, I got dropped off at the hotel, where I hailed a cab and gave the cabbie the printout – and of course he couldn’t figure out where to go.  Anyway, it turns out this is common.  I’d read about the Korean lack of city planning and lack of rational addresses prior to this trip, yet to even see cabbies stymied is quite incredible.  Fortunately, every car has GPS and nobody goes anywhere without cell phones.  It’s been my experience thus far that every trip to any destination requires talking to three people, three different phone calls, and satellite or email mapping.  Welcome to Korea – I think I will be saying this a lot…

Finally, we arrive at a little alley-like street and reverend Kim from Koroot meets us at the front of the alley.  Thank goodness he helps me with some of the luggage, as the street has some bumpy paving and then the walk to the place is flagstones and there are stone steps…I am definitely a little feverish by now.  It’s about 9 am and all I can think about is sleeping.  I get shown around the place.  I get introduced to a couple of other adoptees.  I go to the bathroom and am told there is a call for me from my job recruiter.  I tell them I will call him back after a nap.  I take a shower, put on my jammies  on to go to bed and I get told there is someone on the line for me.  My recruiter explains that they made a mistake and told my school where I will be working that I am arriving today, and that they have been waiting for me all morning, that they are very upset because the vice principal is a very busy man, and could I please go meet them RIGHT NOW?  Please?  I explain how I’ve gotten no sleep, only just arrived, etc., and can’t I take a nap first or reschedule?  And then the recruiter somehow convinces me, so I go to my room, have the volunteer here to call a cab, and in ten minutes find something to wear – and that is how I begin my first day in Korea.

Welcome to Korea!

More tomorrow morning – I really do need more sleep, as I am off to Wonju city hall tomorrow to do some sleuthing as to more information about who I was and where I came from.