For 1 month and 1 week I have been residing in the bustling city of Busan. A concrete jungle of 711's and plastic surgery clinics and men hawking socks on the sidewalk. It smells of fish and sewage and food. The distinct smell of Asia.
I arrived late on a Thursday night, and my recruiter, Su, swooped me up at the airport. She took me to my apartment straight away, and together we lugged my 70 pound suitcase up 5 flights of stairs. My place is nice and new, but I question the quality as there is mold growing above my window and the walls seem to be made of rice paper. Yup, that's right. I can hear my neighbors pee. However, I do have a balcony AND my kitchen has a door which is more than most people can claim. I live a 3 minute walk to the subway, and my stop has access to 2 different lines.
I hop on the brown line at 12:53 pm everyday and head to Sajik. 7 stops and a 15 minute walk later, I am at my school. I am the only foreign teacher which has been challenging, but my 3 Korean co-teachers - Benny, Alexa and Helenna - are fantastic gals who have been incredibly helpful. My director, Mr. Jo, has made the transition very easy. He took me to get my physical, he took me to the immigration office, he took me to open a bank account, and then he got me a fancy new android.... which, at the moment, is lost somewhere in Saha-gu. I blame the soju.
Initially, I was overwhelmed. I teetered between wanting to high-five everyone that passed me to having a complete meltdown. I was lonely. I was vulnerable. I was excited. I was learning so many new things. Was this a mistake? Or was this the best decision of my life?
Good news is that all that anxiety is slowly melting away, and I'm really beginning to love this city.
I'm home.
