It's hard to remember why I packed all of my belongings into two suitcases and a carry-on 18 months ago to move to South Korea. Anything that couldn't fit was gifted to my more-than-willing-to-accept teenaged sister, or stuffed into trash bags and thrown out. Coincidentally, my parents were in the middle of a divorce as I made my final journey preparations, and neither of them would have room to store any of my things. Tons of books collected throughout my childhood found a new home at the library. Odds and ends that I have a habit of hoarding made their way to the dump. And thus, lighter, it was time to embark on this sparkly new adventure. Oh, how we love things when they're new.

Why South Korea, though? That's the question, isn't it? It could have been anywhere, really. But, with Korean American friends that introduced me to the food, a Korean language teacher encouraging me by telling me how great of a way this would be to learn the language, and US expat blogs raving about their ability to pay their student loans with ease I dove right in. To be honest....I was running. I wouldn't have admitted it then, but I'm an entire 18 months older now. I'm wise. I know.

I was running.

 My hopes when I first got to Korea was that I would learn how to be an adult. I wouldn't live with my parents. I wouldn't have to depend on anyone. I know, pretty basic stuff. I was enticed by the ability to completely reinvent myself. I could decide what kind of adult I wanted to be. I wouldn't be lazy, I wouldn't be messy, I wouldn't be anything like the person I had grown to be. But, I quickly learned that changing as many time zones as I did was not the same as changing myself. I'm still a sloth. I'm still a mess. I'm still almost exactly the same as I was before. I'm just 18 months older.

I did do some good, though.

 All things considered, I have accomplished some major goals. I can easily pay bills in another language without any help. That's something. And, I learned how to make "ricotta cheese" from nothing but milk and vinegar. That's something else. Honestly, I've also come to realize a lot of personal truths about myself, although I'm not ready to share them just yet. There are a lot of things that I worry about as I prepare myself to head back to America in less than 6 months...

But we'll save that for another blog post.

 As you could tell by the title, I'm participating in a weekly blogging challenge. It's called the Blogging Abroad Boot Camp challenge and it's a way to reinvigorate my writer's spirit (AKA wine isn't enough). It's a weekly challenge, and I'll be giving you new blog posts every week *hopefully* for the next nine weeks. How many times can I say week? If you want, check it out by clicking the image below. Also, go ahead and let me know, if you're are or were an expat, what's your why? For my homies that are in their home countries leave a comment about a time that you made a life-altering decision. Did you recently quit a stable job to pursue your cheese-making dreams? Did you drop everything to see a one night only curtain of your favorite Broadway play? Let me know!


Let me set the mood for you. You're walking down the streets in a big, bustling city. You are drawn to the various sights and smells as you stroll through a night market. You turn and laugh with your friend about a silly inside joke. As you look forward, you notice a group of local men and women about your age staring at you and your friend. They are all laughing and joking, and although they are speaking a different language, you know enough to understand that they are talking about you. Talking about your hair, your skin, your existence. They are laughing, and in broken English, they mock you, "yo yo yo, wassup!" And that's when it really dawns on you. You are NOT welcome here. To them, your existence is simply a caricature of your true self.

I've never felt more uncomfortable than I did this past weekend in Busan. This is coming from a woman who had her naked butt tapped by an old Korean woman, also naked, who then grinned and complimented my soft skin. This is coming from a girl who was nearly peed on a by a drunk, old Korean man in a rain storm. More uncomfortable than THAT was this entire weekend in Busan.

My first full day in Busan, I blamed myself for the way that I was treated. I figured because it is a coastal city, people would be more care free. I wore a low cut maxi dress. I figured all of the stares *directly at my chest* were a product of living in a country that doesn't normally show cleavage. But, after I bought a t-shirt to wear over my dress, the stares continued. So, I had to cancel out that idea. Later, when we were at a night market we heard a man, probably not too much older than my friend and I, telling his friend he should talk to us by saying "yo yo yo AOMG." This isn't just something that can be shrugged off as ignorance. He laughed after saying that. He knows it's ridiculous to approach someone like that, but decided to joke about it a second time before his girlfriend physically slapped her hand over his mouth to make him shut up.

The next day, we were heading to the beach, so we wore a swimsuits under summertime apparel. I wore a tight dress, similar to one you would see Korean women wearing everywhere, and I covered up with a cardigan. My friend wore a tee and shorts. I could tell she was uncomfortable with showing her legs, despite it being warm out. The truth is, we can't wear what Korean girls wear without hearing actual gasps, being pointed at, and talked about. While we were on the subway, a man approached us, looked us up and down, and started asking, "where are you from?" "Are you students?" "Where are you going?" We told him we're American, we're not students, we're going to the beach. That seemed to be the end of it as we went back to talking. Other men on the subway questioned the first man about our answers and he enthusiastically translated out short exchange. My friend, D, and I ignore this. It's sometimes easier to pretend you don't know any Korean. When we got off he told us to follow him to our transfer. He became really persistent. Obviously, we weren't comfortable with that, so I had to politely tell him we would go to the bathroom first and take the next train. He seemed confused but eventually gave up. We waited a few minutes and went down to the platform for our transfer, and who did we see? This guy. He was waiting at the last car, and if we wanted to get on, we'd have no choice but to walk past him. It's not like we could blend in, either, so what else could we do? We hid. Behind a pole. We hid and purposely missed our transfer. For me, the most uncomfortable part of this whole situation is that he assumed we were students. He assumed we were younger than we really are, but it didn't stop him from being a creep.

The icing on this crap cake was later that day, we went to a convenience store to purchase less than $5 worth of items.I mention the price to point out the ridiculousness of what I will say next. I was accused of stealing. I went into the store and I picked out a popsicle and a cup of ice. The total of these two items were just over 1,000 won. It's less than a dollar in merchandise. Ice, a cup, and a popsicle. I paid for it, but I didn't get a bag or receipt, and then my friend called me over to ask which soda she should buy. I figured I'd just ask for a bag when I went back over. When we went back the cashier that rang me up, a young man, moved over to the side to eat a cup ramyeun, and his post was replaced by a young girl. While my friend paid, we noticed that she charged her for my items too, so I told her in English and in Korean that I already paid for it. The guy who rang me up is sitting off to the side, but he's still there. She says okay, and I ask for a bag, which she gives me. She doesn't say anything else to me until I've taken one step out of the store, and then she loudly yells "excuse me" and then in Korean she says "you didn't pay yet." So, I look back into the store and respond that I did pay. And she's making intense eye contact with me until the guy who rang me up says, between mouthfuls of ramyeun, "yeah, she paid." In an effort to save face, she asks when? WHEN? I wanted to flip out on her, and I would have if D didn't quickly push me out of the door. Not fast enough, however, to avoid the judgmental stares of all of the other customers in the store. They were so ready to believe that I stole $1 worth of convenience store merchandise. Instead of clarifying that I already paid while I was right in front of her, she decided to wait until I was halfway out of the store to confront me. As though it makes sense to be so bold as to ask for a bag for stolen goods.

Last year, I went to Busan with my ex. A white man. A white man predisposed to doing reckless things like climbing rocks as opposed to simply walking up the stairs. I was never once mocked, creeped on, or accused of stealing when we were together. But, I never felt more aware of my skin color and my gender as I did when I went to Busan this year. I've never felt more unwelcome in my life. I've honestly never felt as preyed upon by men as I did in Busan, either. Since talking about my trip with Korean coworkers and friends, I've learned that a lot of them don't like Busan. They've said that the people there are more bold about saying what's on their mind. But, it doesn't comfort me to know that what was on their mind was that they didn't want me there.



Something that I've always wanted to explore was my relationship with myself. That is to say, time and time again I have talked myself out of looking into my own spirituality, meditation, and wellness in fear that I wouldn't like the person I found when it was quiet in my head. At least once every six months I exclaim how great it would be to get into yoga, meditation, healthy eating. And like clockwork I can never last a week before I fall back into my unhealthy thought patterns, and into my unhealthy long-term relationship with food. I've been reading Living With Intent by Mallika Chopra, and her chapter on Trust felt like a splash of cold water to the subconscious. I wondered how she could hit the nail on the head so succinctly. I'll quote two paragraphs from the chapter below.
I fell in love with the sweet stuff as a kid. My grandmother loves chocolate as much as I do, and some of my fondest memories from our visits to India are of playing in Nani's house while she made a chocolate cake or whipped together delicious milkshakes. Even now, imagining those days fills me with a warm, cozy feelings, and I suddenly see part of the problem. In my mind, sugar means security, protection, safety. It's a refuge, a haven. No wonder I reach for sweet treats to soothe myself when I'm sad or anxious, scared or uncertain. It's not just that it tastes good; it tastes like love. In my father's book, he says the task of people struggling with weight and food is this: find your fulfillment. Food alone can't fulfill you, my dad writes. "You must nourish the body with healthy food, the heart with joy, compassion and love, the mind with knowledge and the spirit with equanimity and self-awareness...If you fill yourself with other kinds of satisfaction, food will no longer be a problem. 
--Mallika Chopra, Living With Intent.

This anecdote spoke to me, as many of my fondest childhood memories involve food. In particular, I remember getting up early to go to the grocery store with my mom to buy blueberry muffins for my grandfather. I excitedly called him to remind him of what treats I wanted him to have waiting for me after our 4-hour car ride to visit his tiny apartment in New York. I always joked about holding his blueberry muffins at ransom if he didn't follow through, knowing that he always did. My list never deviated. It always included a half order of fried chicken over fried rice from the Chinese carryout, sparkling Mystic coolers, and a Trinidadian drink called Shandy. On top of this, my brother would ask for wings and fries from Kennedy Fried Chicken, my mom wanted a roti and doubles and aloo pies from the Caribbean restaurant. Throw on top of that a couple of Blockbuster movies for us to enjoy together, and we guaranteed that my poor grandfather would be spending the entire length of our car ride walking halfway around the city. But, he never complained, because he loved us so much. And that food, regardless of it's actual quality always tasted like love. Our other meals for the duration of our visits would be homemade by him, and his matchbox, one-bedroom apartment was filled to the brim with delicious scents, people, and mostly, love.

It is a common theme in Caribbean households to equate food with love. When you want to show someone you care, it's not uncommon to ask if they had eaten, fix them a plate, or cook them a meal. My mother always tells me what she'll cook for me when we're reunited. After my first heartbreak, my dad bought me a chocolate cake.

It's not a stretch to say that my relationship with food has become a crutch. When I'm feeling anything but fulfilled I turn to food. But Chopra has made me question whether I'm just filling my stomach, or attempting to fulfill my otherwise unfulfilled self. And taking on the task of daily meditation and yoga, I'm beginning to find the answers.

So, how can I conquer this?

First
I need to have an active awareness of what I am putting in my body, and why. Am I eating because I'm hungry, or am I lacking in another area of my life? Am I looking to fill my stomach, my mind, or my heart? What can I do instead of eating that will help me fulfill these areas?

Second
I need to learn to accept failure as an inevitable aspect of any self-improvement journey. I can't allow negative thoughts at a minor setback to deter me completely as I have in the past. My current wellness journey is helping me notice and stop these thoughts when I feel them.

Third
Sometimes, what you need at the moment is that piece of cake. Or that cheeseburger. Filling yourself up with what you need is important, and self-deprivation is not what I'm after. But, a part of the journey is being mindful while eating and saying, right now, I'm full. I enjoyed this cheeseburger, but if I finish it, I'll feel sick to my stomach.

These are just three ways I'm trying to conquer my unhealthy relationship with food. I'm not trying to diet in any way, however, I would like to enjoy living in my body a little bit more. I'll let you guys know how it goes.

Love ya,
Shawnelle
   


Dear Exes,

     First of all, thank you for the good times. We're not going to mention the bad. This is not a time for that. This isn't the time to talk about the reasons why it didn't work. Actually, this is a celebration of you. Your type. The infamous EX boyfriend. I'd like to take a moment of my time to thank you for the work that you've done in my life. I'll give you all (all 3 of you) your own special shoutout.

To #1 AKA Sweet High School Romance

    You taught me romantic love. How to love another person. You were my sweet high school romance in every sense of the word. I cried when we parted ways at nights. We held hands for the entirety of the football game, and couldn't look away from each other long enough to watch the movie. You were the first person outside of my family whose well-being was connected with my own. You were the first. I still think about you from time to time and worry whether you're doing well for yourself or not. You showed me what it meant to grow up and grow into love. But, as great as it was, you showed me that people can grow up and grow away from each other, too. Because of you I learned that it's okay to move on when the time is right. So, thank you, SHSR. For the gift of love.

To #2 AKA You Don't Want Me To Give You A Nickname

     What did I learn from a relationship this chaotic? You taught me how to love myself. And, yes, I know you loved me in the way that you knew how, but, you taught me that a caged bird can't be happy. Because of you I learned how to understand the kind of love that I wanted for myself. You showed me how the wrong kind of love can be suffocating. Dangerous, like a knife to the throat. You showed me what love looks like when it wants to keep you to itself. You taught me the importance of being your own person, as a whole, before you can be someone else's. You taught me how to break free. YDWMTGYAN, thanks for such an important lesson.

To #3 AKA Mr. Right For Now
   
      The recent one. The one who is slowly leaving my thoughts. The one filled with the sweetest words and the deepest promises. You are teaching me me how to find the balance between loving another and loving myself. It's a process. You are teaching me that I can't hold on to something that's struggling to be let go. I'm learning that just giving isn't enough. Thanks to you, I've begun to recognize that I deserve to receive the same amount of love that I can give. After #2, you were like a breath of fresh air. You were so incredibly perfect for me...at the time. But, as I had already learned, people grow, either together of apart. For us it was the latter. I'm not bitter because I'm not the one for you. But, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sad that I wasted so much time believing you were the one for me. But, all the same, MRFN, thank you so much. I'm glad I knew you, so that I could learn such a valuable lesson. Every day, I will remind myself of my worth. Because I deserve love without conditions, without compromises.

     So, exes...I celebrate the time I had with each of you, for better of for worse. I wish you all of the happiness in the world. You all contributed to the person that I am today, even though I'm still figuring that out. Thank you.

From your favorite ex,
Shawnelle
I've been thinking about how to put my current feelings into words for a long time now. After a long chat with a good friend, I was finally able to put words to how I'm feeling. In a nutshell, I'm ready to get the heck out of Korea. One month into my 2nd contract and I'm ready to call it quits. Honestly, I thought it was just a rut that I was going through, but it turns out that I'm just done. Let me tell you why.

Limited Access to Spices and Foods I Love
    I miss having access to the spices and ingredients that I enjoy cooking with. I've always liked cooking, but since I've been in Korea, I have been cooking much more than ever before. I'm pretty restricted in what I can cook because the ingredients I need are either wildly expensive or unavailable. I understand that I could just cook Korean foods with the ingredients that are widely available, but, if I'm eating in my house I'm usually in the mood for the comforting dishes from back home. For example, I've been craving mac and cheese for a week, but the 3 closest grocery stores to me don't have cheddar cheese. When I do find cheddar cheese it's about $11 for one block of cheese. I want to have a taco night, but I can't find hard shell tacos anywhere, I can't get cilantro without traveling over an hour, and one avocado is $3. It's frustrating to rarely satisfy my cravings, since I'm not willing or able to spend $30 on cooking a comfort food.

Dead End Career
    I may have joked around with people that I'm a glorified babysitter...but, in all honesty, I'm a glorified babysitter. I see my friends back home getting jobs in their fields, or doing the work that they want to do, and I'm sitting here with little to no responsibility, respect, or rewards. I plan a simple lesson for a 40 minute, weekly class that most of the students don't care about. Korean public school is often praised for its high completion rate. Yet, what they don't tell you is that ALL of the students move forward regardless of their effort. They take tests, but in Elementary school, they really don't matter. If the child has no desire to go to college, then they just float through until they graduate high school without any effort on their part. Since I can't scold them in their language, my "punishments" are a joke.
    What it really boils down to is that I'm getting itchy. I'm ready to make moves that will push me in the direction that I want to go. On a more positive note (AKA after some serious deep breathing) I realize that this is one step in the grand scheme of things. In order to go to grad school, I need to pay off a bit of my student as well as have the opportunity to save up money to pay for the program in full as well as to have a good nest egg for myself. This is a wonderful way to do that. Points for me for positive thinking!

Inflated expectations + Disappointing reality = WHAT.THE.HELL?!
    I did so much research about South Korea before I came here. Anyone who knows me knows that I can't even make a purchase over $20 without doing some serious research. I watched videos, read blogs, searched every forum and even connected with people already in the country or who had taught here before. I thought I was fully prepared for what my experience here would be like. But, I really wasn't. Now that I'm here, though, I feel like I've been lied to. No one was keeping it 100 with me. Making Korean friends isn't easy. Immersion-style language learning isn't working for me. Having time and energy for hobbies isn't happening. I guess this could be a personal problem. Maybe I'm too shy to make friends, period. I'm probably a bit to self-conscious to practice my Korean with Koreans. And, I guess I'm too lazy do do anything with my time. Who knows. Whatever it is, it bugs me.

Living in a bubble
    So, as it stands, I'm currently treading water in a pool of people furiously swimming laps around me. What I mean by this is it seems that everyone around me is making all of these life-changing decisions in their personal lives, while I'm just puttering around and doing the same thing everyday. I know that this can be contributed to the fact that people tend to only share the "best" moments of their life online. I get on Facebook and I see my friends doing great things, and I'm so happy for them, yet, I'm a bit sad as well because what am I doing? Everyone responds to this the same way. "OMG, you're in Korea, teaching children, that's amazing!" But, let's be real. Is it really? Like I mentioned before, it feels like a dead-end job to me. I like the same life as an unfulfilled person would back home. I don't wake up every morning and dive into Korea. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like I'm in Korea.
    Even in this country, the people around me are living amongst family and friends, and they are all making decisions that push their lives forward. They're getting married, having children, getting promotions and added responsibilities in their careers, graduating, moving, making changes. I'm just the decorative foreign teacher. That's it. And, don't get me started on the fact that I miss "breaking news" because it is in Korean. Unless a co-teacher decides to translate something to me, I'm pretty behind on things. My family will message me and ask, "did you hear about [that thing] with North Korea?" No. No, I did not. My response is usually, "oh, Koreans aren't really worried about it, so I won't be either." But, really? How do I know this? I don't. I just say it and hope for the best.

 At the end of the day, I'm not going to leave the ROK until my contract is up. It's unprofessional to leave without having a real, valid reason aside from "ugh feeeeeelingssss." Also, if I ever find myself strapped for cash, I can always come back to Korea and work for a year. So, I don't want to ruin that.
I'll continue to take each day as it comes, and know that this experience is an important step to achieving my dreams...whatever they may be.

























Learning a new language is hard. Ever since I finished with my Korean classes at UMBC, let's just say that my motivation to continue learning Korean definitely took a hit. With my focus shifted to finishing up my coursework so that I could graduate, and then head out to Korea two months later, Korean definitely got pushed to the back burner. After arriving in Korea, I was so busy with work, drinking socializing, and the like, that I rarely put my mind in study mode.

Cue the Talk To Me In Korean crew. I had listened to their lessons on occasion in the past, while working out, or cooking. But, I had never invested in any of their workbooks. I figured that now, in Korea, was the best time to grab some books, since shipping is much cheaper when you're in the same country. I grabbed a level 3 book, because although I took Korean to the 201 level, it had been a while since I had picked it up.

This was easily the best decision I could have made in my language-learning journey. I can listen to the lessons online when I finish my planning at work, and I can breeze through the workbook. If I ever have questions, one of my co-teachers are eager to help clear things up. Even when I don't have a co-teacher around, I can just rewind the lesson, and listen a little more thoroughly to find my answer. I've learned new vocabulary, and I'm able to get a more working knowledge of Korean. In school we learned standard, polite, and business Korean. And that isn't very useful if you're looking to make Korean friends that are your age.

All in all, the workbook cost me $16.00 including shipping to me here in Korea, but if I were at home, it would run about $3.00 more to ship to my US address. Not bad. If you don't live in Korea, Shipping is added to each individual item, which could be a bother if you're buying multiple items at once, but consider that the cost of broadening your horizons with language.

What's in the book?

 Actually, I'm glad you asked. Inside, you'll find many different activities that will keep you interested. They cycle through multiple choice questions, reading comprehension, fill in the blanks, conjugation charts, dictation, and much more. They have really thought their books through to give you the most of your learning experience. In fact, these workbooks are very similar to the ones I used in college. Here's a link that will take you to learn more about the Lesson 3 Workbook. This link will let you read more about their mission. You should definitely check them, and their easy-to-use site, out.

Good luck friends!