Journal: Coming and Going

I am now safely back in the United States for a month. I have had ten days "rest," though some of it was lest than restful. How do I feel about it? Well, the jury is out. Some very tragic things have happened since I came home, but there have been benefits as well.

A day after I arrived home, the news reached me that a very dear former coworker had suddenly died of cancer. She was the very first person to welcome me to MIlpitas High School when I began working there in 2002, something I really appreciated. I attended her wake and funeral; her "thousand-watt smile" and cheerful attitude will be sorely missed. She was a very caring and maternal "earth mother" type; a coronet of flowers adorned her still beautiful fair hair, and under her rosary and in her hands someone had placed her favorite treat, a Hershey bar. She would have gotten a kick out of all of it, especially the Janis Joplin exit music.

The good news is that I have cleared a lot of debt. Considering the state I was in when I left, I have done very well, or at least I try to believe that I have. I will not, as I previously hoped, be able (on my lower salary) to clear ALL of my debt, as I had originally planned; this is distressing, but a long drive this evening cleared my head and I feel a little better.

I have finally secured a job at the University of Suwon; the salary is less than stellar, in fact, it is quite laughable given the qualifications they were looking for. Even so, I look at it as a resume builder. I will gain experience in a smaller Korean town teaching adults and university students (nevr confuse the two in Korea!).
But the Korean system is based, after all, on bringing in people who cannot or will not function the way a "normal" person should in their own society; some of the people I have met along the way have given me pause to say, "Whoa! Am I really like that?" Certainly I fit this in that I have never needed the fancy car, the house, or the money. The irony is that I cannot even get what I do want - a modest condo or apartment in the coastal area...But I am very sane compared to some of the characters I have met, or at least I flatter myself that this is so.

When I got in the taxi to leave Seoul, I immediately knew my trip was going to be interesting. It had been pouring rain for several days, and parts of the freeway system were flooded. The taxi driver darted in and out of the city several times in order to avoid the floods. It took so long that my bladder gave out, and we had to stop at a gas station. I left everything in the taxi except my plane ticket and my purse. When I came out, we got on the freeway again. Then, I realized that I had left my e-ticket in the bathroom. The driver was kind enough to turn around; fortunately, it was still there.

We finally arrived at Incheon, and the journey through immigration went smoothly. The ticket given to me was "Economy Plus," so I felt very lucky (5 inches extra leg room). The first plane took off, and we had a very bumpy ride to Nippon (Japan). I managed to sleep most of the time, in spite of stomach churning turbulence. Once on the ground, I tried to get some money changed. After several consultations with a very inconvenient computer map, I found the currency exchange. They would not, however, exchange my won for dollars, even though they said they were full service.

I boarded the next plane, which proved to be a vintage Boeing 747 built sometime in the 1970s by the looks and sounds of it. Every twist and bump caused the plane to creak. To my horror, I discovered that I had been placed in a "sandwich seat" between two male passangers. The window seat passenger was a good-looking and entertaining Korean American grad student (UCLA) who was also, alas for me, very tall and leggy. On the aisle sat an Army reservist fire chief from Santa Fe; he was in his fifties and had quite a bit of trouble with his knee on the flight. Both companions were pleasant; I wish I had gotten the grad student's phone number!

I arrived in LAX with about two hours to spare. As this was considered the point of entry, the plane had to unload the luggage so we could carry it to customs. I had two very large and heavy bags to deal with, so I took advantage of the free baggage carts. Unfortunately, the baggage carousel broke down. Two more international flights came in, and they were being unloaded onto the same carousel. Throught fits and starts, the baggage was unloaded. An hour later, I heave-hoed my massive baggage off. I fought valiantly with the baggage cart and finally won. I knew I was in America because not one person offered to help me get my luggage on the cart, though I was swearing, huffing, and puffing. In Korea, I would have had at least three people try to help.

I then got into the long line through customs and went through pretty smoothly. I put my baggage on another carousel and pulled out my ticket. I asked an airport security guard for directions; she was very pleasant, and indicated that the terminal was a "two minute walk" from the international terminal. Actually, it was fifteen minutes in scorching heat. I got there just in time to be harassed by security. When I left America, security was only doing selective screening of shoes, laptops, etc. The rude guard gave me attitude when I expressed confusion about taking off my hiking boots and taking my laptop out of its case. He then got squiffy when I took a long time to do it (there was no one else in line), hiking boots not being an easy item to remove in a hurry. Both he and the technician then laughed at me because I was not wearing socks (long story there) and I was being very delicate about putting my bare feet on the filthy floor (in Asian countries, they give you temporary slippers).

The puddle jumper flight was uneventful; I had a nice chat with my seatmate about living abroad. My family was at the airport to meet me, as well as two of my friends.