To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before… XO, Kitty, and the Reality of Teaching in South Korea
It’s 2009, the world is reeling from a financial crisis, and I’m about to board a 16-hour flight halfway across the world. I have no idea what I’m getting myself into. All I know is that I’ve just graduated from college with a liberal arts degree that’s about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. But hey, I’m not alone — lots of people are struggling, and I’m determined to make it.
In my mind, South Korea seems like the answer. I’ve been searching the internet for teaching jobs abroad, and I aimed to find one in Japan but when that didn’t pan out I figured Korea, why not? A school in Seoul offers me a job, and despite the low salary (about the same as a garbage truck driver makes), I’m sold. They’ll provide free accommodations, and, bonus — they’ll record me teaching, which is either a confidence booster or a horrifying idea.
As the plane takes off, I picture myself revisiting Korean movie set scenes in my free time and don’t think too much about the teaching job itself, like what it might be like to be in a cute little classroom or eating kimchi.
16-Hour Flight? No Problem.
Two weeks later, I finally land in Korea.
“Ana-ha-say-ho,” says the flight personnel as we disembark.
I smile and scan the crowd for my host, who is a Korean related to someone my brother knew at his computer job in America. He’s holding up a sign with my name on it.
“Welcome,” he says. He leads me to his car, and we drive to the school.
“Yes,” I nod enthusiastically. “Com-sa-hum-ee-duh!” I say, trying my best to sound confident.
“What?” he asks.
Note to self: MUST STUDY HARDER.
I quickly realize my Korean is a little more… choppy than I’d hoped. But it’s fine.
The Luggage Fiasco
We get to the baggage claim area, and that’s when things go from “I can do this” to “Oh no, what do I do?”
My bags aren’t on the carousel. In fact, they’re nowhere to be found.
I stand there, feeling like I’m going to pass out. I have nothing I need. I’m in a foreign country. I don’t even know how to say, “Where is my luggage?” in Korean.
Okay, deep breaths.
Now is the time to get anxious, Trish.
Oh man, oh man! What do I do? This is not good. Why am I doing this? Why did I come here?!
Okay, let’s say some mantras.
I am a great person.
I can do all things.
(Except find my luggage…)
I am Awesome! I am Awesome! I am Awesome!
Okay, I’m awesome, I said it! Now let’s get in this stranger’s car and be on our way. The whole ride is awkward as my nerves are in overdrive. Don’t worry, I tell myself. I’ve got this.
The Reality Check
This is the part of my story that always gets met with disbelief. I lasted just one week in South Korea before homesickness hit me like a freight train. I called my mom, then called every friend I knew, and ultimately made the decision to come home. It didn’t take long, but here’s the thing: since then, I’ve traveled overseas many more times. And each time, I’ve survived
And even though my time in South Korea didn’t last, I can now look back and laugh. After all, the world is full of unpredictable moments — and even the ones that seem like disasters are just another step on the road to understanding ourselves a little better
