To South Korea, With Love

It has now been a little over two months since I left South Korea** and said goodbye to the intriguing and diverse friends I made there. I still crave Korean food and yearn for a cold, milky bottle of makgeolli almost every day. I still dream of the jagged islands around Tongyeong, the rolling tallgrass of the Yeongnam Alps near Ulsan, the colorful, historic Buddhist temples scattered throughout the country, and above all, the beauty of Busan, nestled among mountains which are only broken by the East Sea on one end and the Nakdonggang River on the other.

Not pictured in the above photos? The marvelous crew of co-workers I had while working at my private academy. I read many horror stories about private academies in Korea, but I have been quite lucky. I had a head teacher who had been working there for years, trained me well, and truly cared about his work. Whether it involved getting a ‘mart beer’ (or…five?) and trading stories over what happened in class that day or taking a weekend to explore new breweries and philosophize about life itself, they were always there and available.

My Slightly Disjointed Thoughts on Teaching English in Korea in the Age of Coronavirus

The warmth of the sun on my face as I walk to school each afternoon as winter sets in puts me at ease. It’s pleasant, makes the impending Zoom class more tolerable, and reminds me how much I miss and love the outdoors. Especially on days where it is my first and only interaction with its bright comforting warmth before it falls back beneath the towering Lego officetels and those never-ending mountains that surround you everywhere in Korea.

I love to whistle. Especially while listening to music and exploring the great outdoors. You can’t whistle with a mask on.

I spent my first three months teaching 50+ Korean students. Thirteen weeks and I didn’t see their faces until week 14. Why? Masks. Then there was a spike in cases, so we had to teach on Zoom. Only then could I see the expressions that made them beautiful, alive, and human.

I worry about these kids. Often in class, I will show them pictures of mass crowds of people enraptured in a live musical performance, dancing to a DJ, or celebrating at a festival on a beach or at an outdoor sports field. Too often their immediate response is horror followed by loud mentions of “CORONAVIRUS!” While some may be joking, I worry too often that this situation, this current reality of living will become engrained in their psyche. They may hold within themselves a lifelong aversion to the activities that make life so wonderful. They may make mask-wearing a habit. Something that seems normal and should always occur.

I despise face masks. I frequently forget to don them when leaving my flat and it’s not until the angry glares, the people who shy away with fear, or the feeling of fresh air on my uncovered face that I realize what I’ve done. I never want to make wearing them a habit. That makes me happy. It reassures me to know my brain hasn’t programmed this in yet.

The eyes of a person can tell you many things, but a full facial expression is so much more enjoyable. It’s what makes us humans love to interact and watch ourselves as we do so. Do not misunderstand me. I fully realize why masks are so necessary in these times.

I hate this damn virus. It takes away so much that I love about this world and living. I yearn for the days when I can greet my friends with a hug, see their full, joyous smiles, and bask in the warmth and touch of those I love.

This is a love letter to Korea. And if you love _[insert anything]_, you will love Korea.

Quality, affordable healthcare

There are many ways one can conclude that America’s healthcare system is broken. One is living in countries and experiencing their healthcare system firsthand. In Korea, if you are feeling ill, you burn your hand a bit, or you get even a minor cut, it’s a given that you will go to the doctor. In America, you either have to think you are dying or your leg may be gushing blood before you’ll submit to the costs associated with such visits. I was required to purchase healthcare as an expat there on a work visa. The system itself was efficient, high quality, and low cost. Korea itself even has its own medical tourism industry.

Delicious, ancient food and drink

I came to Korea with some expectations regarding the cuisine based on Anthony Boudain’s episodes from No Reservations and Parts Unknown, as well as my own trips to Annadale, Virginia with friends for Korean BBQ while living in Washington, D.C. Needless to say, the food blew me away. It is based on thousands of years of agricultural history and tradition. It emphasizes a variety of foods high in both probiotics and prebiotics. Traditional Korean food is, by default, quite healthy.

I also learned that (supposedly) Korean food is all about ensuring men have confidence in themselves. Sexual confidence. I’ve been told by multiple Koreans in many different scenarios that the specific food I was consuming is known to provide stamina. And we’re not talking about your average stamina. No. Sexual stamina. This ties back to Confucianism (Yin and Yang), as well as the country’s history of patriarchy, but I just found it to be rather hilarious.

A low cost of living

Teaching English in Korea is still considered a lucrative profession due to the high salary paid to TEFL teachers in both public schools and private academies. I say still because in my discussions with teachers who have been living in Korea for almost a decade, they oftentimes refer to the past when things were even cheaper, and the salary stretched further. Nevertheless, the salaries paid for such a profession coupled with the countries’ low cost of living and high quality of life led me to understand why some expats who came to teach for one year changed their plans and never left.

I generally cooked my own meals on weekdays so I could spend my weekends living like royalty while still not spending much at all. To stretch my salary even further and ensure I could save $1,000/month, I mostly stuck to eating local, traditional Korean foods, drinking traditional Korean rice wine (MAKGEOLLI), and staying away from Western restaurants and bars. It still blows my mind the amount of food you are given in a traditional Korean restaurant for roughly $8, or the diverse, colorful, and massive bowls of Asian noodles ranging from $6-$9.

I lived in a high-rise, loft apartment on the 11^th floor of a 20-story building. It was perfect for my needs and provided me with exactly the space I needed for only $450/month in rent. One thing I noticed is these types of buildings exist everywhere and they all look relatively similar. From on high, it’s almost like a sea of Lego apartment buildings popping up in the valleys of Busan. And they exist in every major city.

Parks

I was lucky to reside right next to Oncheoncheon Stream. It’s a stream starting near Beomeosa Temple that trickles down from the local mountains and connects to Suyeonggang River, which empties into the East Sea. The beauty of this natural situation is that the Korean government has turned it into a park, with bike lanes, frequently updated and maintained flower beds and sculptures, workout equipment, and badminton and basketball courts. It is positively delightful.

Within days of exiting my two-week quarantine, I walked some length along this park and immediately started researching ways to purchase a bicycle. By bike, I could reach Haeundae and Gwangalli Beaches in under 35 minutes while cruising through constant beauty and an ever-changing live painting of nature through the seasons.

The park itself was always full of happy families playing sport, young boys and girls riding bicycles, couples on romantic strolls, and elderly grandparents watching grandchildren, working out, or playing board games. It’s an oasis of activity and a sustainable ecosystem for the local Audubon. You could say this applies to all parks in Korea. The attention to detail and the desire to make nature beautiful are two things Koreans do quite well with their parks. Legions of senior citizen work crews are constantly toiling away to maintain this beauty and frequently change the flowers, depending on the season or the festival. And in Korea, there is always a traditional festival occurring.

Beaches

Busan has five different beaches, and all have their unique qualities. I chose to live in Busan for these beaches and spent a fair portion of my year frequenting them, as well as most of my last month soaking up the sun in June.

Haeundae is the most tourist beach in Busan and is easily accessible by public transit. Its waters are crystal clear, and it’s surrounded by a plethora of dining options. Due to the popularity of this beach and the ongoing coronavirus situation, it was the one beach in June where mask-wearing was enforced. Mind you, this involved older men and women pointing at a sign in English they carried that stated “masks must be worn” but soon after they walked away, most people would remove their mask. I say this not because I was trying to flout the law, but only because I didn’t believe I would catch coronavirus while on a beach in the outdoors and not near others.

While I enjoyed Haeundae, I preferred Gwangalli Beach for a few reasons. First, it was easier and quicker to visit by bicycle, something I would often do in the morning before my afternoon teaching began. Second, the lady who made my life in Korea so splendid resided in the area. From this beach, at night you can view the colorful splendor of Gwangan Bridge, which is lit up at night. The only downside was the water, which wasn’t nearly as clear and clean as Haeundae, but also not horrid either. You also experienced a more local crowd compared to the tourists who visited Haeundae.

Other local beaches included Songjeong, Songdo, and Dadaepo. Songjeong was to the northeast of Busan and it’s known as the spot for surfing. I found it to be more local and quite lovely. I only attended to Songdo once, at night, but I suspect it has its charm as well. Dadaepo took roughly an hour by public transit to reach, but no beach could compare to the sunsets witnessed here. It’s partially connected to the nearby Nakdong river emptying into the sea, so there’s plenty of sand and it seems at times to be endless in its size. This was perhaps my second favorite beach after Gwangalli.

Coffee shops

Koreans love their coffee and most importantly, their coffee shops. Coffee shops are stylish, there is always one within five minutes of where you may be walking, and they are often situated in locations that provide outdoor seating and stunning views of the surrounding nature.

Being active

Koreans love to hike. This may have to do with the endless mountains that are spread across the country coupled with the desire to escape into nature from the grueling pressure of constant learning in youth and the interminable, long hours spent toiling away once adulthood is reached. Luckily, I also love to hike and in Busan, being surrounded by mountains meant I could walk a mere 15 minutes and be amongst the beauty and nature of Dongnae.

Public transportation

In Korea, you can easily travel almost anywhere in-country without a car. This is due to superb public transportation, high-speed rail, and busing options. Owning a bicycle was a plus for me as well, but public transport here is phenomenal.

For instance, on public transit rail and bus, the card machines vocally thank you in an angelic female voice as you pay and walk through the turnstiles. It’s lovely and endearing.

If you hate __________, don’t live in Korea.

Learning a new language.

Overall, I admittedly put little effort into learning Korean, despite my initial enthusiasm that I would. Learning to read Hangul is itself quite easy, but Korean is a language isolate, meaning it’s considered unrelated to other languages and I suspect it takes years to master. If you live in a major city here (Seoul, Busan, Daegu, etc) you can easily get by without knowing the language. But if you really want to understand the people and their culture, learn Korean.

There is more I could say regarding the negative aspects of Korean society, but this is a love letter. And for me, the positives far outweighed the negatives.  

Additional random musings on living in Korea

• It is impossible to find salty or cheesy chips. It is possible to find sweet, or slightly salty, or sweet and slightly cheesy chips. You like Cheetos eh? They ARE NOT the same in Korea as they are in the USA.
• Korea is safe. Crime is low. The country even has a lost and found system that frequently aids people in finding their lost belongings, whether that’s a smartphone left at a bar or a wallet with cash left at the beach.
• Napkins are small. Like the size of toilet paper. I used to be annoyed by this but now I get it. Why use a massive paper towel roll and waste paper? You’re just going to scrunch it up into a ball anyways.
• I was told that Koreans have a phrase for “Netflix and chill” that is translated as “Do you want to have ramen at my place?” Otherwise known as “Ramen and chill.”
• Koreans love everything new. This has its benefits but can lead to a loss of history as old buildings are constantly knocked down to make way for the newest design/technology and materialism runs rampant. One student asked me why I still had an iPhone 6. My response was “Why not, it still works?” to which she emphasized, “Because it’s old!”
• I know I’m going to catch hell for this, but fast food here is delicious. The pizza is insane. Do you want four different types of pizza in one large size? You got it! Multiple cheeses and a hot dog in your pizza crust? Sure! Burger King is almost classy here, and their local version of a Whopper with mushrooms is fantastic. The people working at the Korean Mcdonald’s near my apartment seem content and happy. They don’t seem to hate their situation. It’s quite interesting. In fact, my greatest complaint with fast food here is that it’s drowned in sauce. Mom’s Touch is inedible due to this. As my mom used to say at a Sonic drive-in to ensure she got more Route 44 Limeade, “easy on the ice!” should be modified to “easy on the sauce!”
• I am frequently approached by retired elderly men who want me to guess how old they are. And I suspect practice their English. All are friendly and probably have some amazing stories to tell. On a few occasions, I had the pleasure of hearing those stories.
• Nature melds seamlessly with the city here. Sometimes too seamlessly. What I mean by that is national parks are so well-maintained that often construction to aid in everyone’s ability to traverse them could be considered overkill.
• Mom jeans are a thing here. Like in style. It’s likely they will be the same in the US sometime soon.

What’s my definition of a life well-lived?

It’s not comfort. It’s being in constant awe of the diversity of the world’s people and all they have to offer. As well as the realization that we’re all the same species, living on this one pale blue dot, the “only home we’ve ever known.”

Why am I grateful for the coronavirus?

I could spend hours talking about how much I hate the coronavirus, but had it not existed, I never would have made so many fantastic friendships. I never would have gone to Korea. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

**Moving forward it shall be referred to as Korea. It is my humble opinion that the country being split into two was and still is a tragedy from the fallout of World War II and the previous Japanese colonial occupation before that. It is my hope that in my lifetime, North and South will reunite in a peaceful manner, under a democratic government. If you are ever wondering what life is like in North Korea, I direct you to read Nothing to Envy by Los Angeles Times journalist Barbara Demick. It is compelling, fascinating, and horrifying all at once. After living for a year in the South, the cultural similarities between the North and South are still clearly evident and span thousands of years in which it was one country and society.