A Hop and a Skip (and 12508.37 kilometers from home)



After eight months and hundreds of encounters with expats from all over the world, the question of why one would leave home to live in a foreign country still comes up, and the answers to that question are as varied as those providing them. It must be said, and indeed emphasized, that after a few minutes of discussion with an expat you will discover (most of the time) that the person you are talking to is happy to have made the leap and would do it again. Some have unpleasant experiences and others seem to be blessed by some magical sky wizard. I, luckily, fall into the latter category, although I must say that I believe there to be no magical sky wizard bestowing happiness upon me like confetti at an ill-fated wedding. I worked hard, I am lucky and I owe much to many people who have helped me get here. My expat experience can be described in four parts.



Part 1: Stepping Up

Some of the people I know had just finished college and were in search of an adventure, so a year long working holiday was just what they were looking for. Others simply wanted a change or to do something they would never forget. For me, mainly, my move to Korea was motivated by an innate loathing of everything that was my life. No job, few prospects, little experience with the world outside of South Africa, no money, and no way to hide my shame when a friend bought me dinner or paid for a drink. For me, leaving home and country was a necessity and it came with promises of fiscal freedom, fun, travel, and endless opportunities to improve my existence. I decided to get it done. I applied to a program to teach English in Korea and after months of documentation woes, begging, pleading, frustration, being told to piss off by a certain educational organisation known as the Vacation Club (they wouldn’t sign off on one of my important reference letters, the bastards), I received confirmation that I would be teaching in Daegu, in South Korea.

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Part 2: Leaving, Arriving, Getting Drunk with ‘Muricans!

Leaving my family at the departure gates of the airport was a lot less upsetting for me than I thought it would be. I wanted this more than anything. So I gave the hugs and said the goodbyes and was all smiles on my way to the plane. This happiness, I would discover eventually, would not last but for now I was on cloud nine, or some other poorly placed metaphor for happiness. I arrived in Korea thirty-four hours later where I was bused off to my orientation venue. I stepped off the bus in Jeonju and immediately gave a little squeak. It was cold. Like -5. For a Durbanite who has never seen snow I found the temperature to be wholly unacceptable and rushed inside the orientation venue. Orientation is exactly like O-week at any large university except instead of partying with bright eyed virgins (in more than one sense) you are surrounded by post-grads from all over the world. During the day we were forced to endure eight hours of lectures followed by five hours of hard drinking. Never been drunk with a Scot? Well now’s your chance! Never made out with an American girl? Stop throwing up and it just might happen! Orientation week was by far one of my favourite times in Korea. I made friends then that I see regularly and will hopefully keep for the rest of my life.

Part 3: OMG WTF BBQ
After orientation I arrived in my new home, Daegu. I found that my school was top-notch, my apartment larger than most, I had free cable and internet, new appliances and that I was probably one of the luckiest sods from my orientation group. The first week in Daegu was incredible. I met many other expats who had been here for six months or more. They told many stories, and all shared a common experience; the OMG WTF moment. I was told by a few people that eventually I would have my OMG WTF moment. This is when one freaks out and questions why they have moved away from all they hold dear, whilst sobbing in the fetal position in a pool of their own piss and tears. I was also told that this feeling would be fleeting. My OMG WTF moment happened after three weeks in Daegu. I found myself standing in my apartment when suddenly I felt ill at ease. A crushing feeling enveloped me as I realised that there was nobody to call, nobody to placate my fears, and nobody who cared. I felt a panic attack coming on. I got my breathing under control and repeated these words in my mind, “I AM A STRONG BLACK WOMAN AND I DON’T NEED NO MAN!” No, I’m kidding. I never said that. That would have been funny though. I reminded myself of the reasons why I left home, what I wanted to accomplish and of a promise I had made to someone I loved. After the emotional rollercoaster of the first few weeks I plateaued and settled into my new life. Oh yes, we eat a lot of barbeque here in Korea, in case you were wondering.

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Part 4: Appreciation
In August of this year I took myself on holiday to Thailand. This was paid for by me, the dude who, seven months previously, was asking for rollies from the founder of a certain risqué Durban-oriented blog. If you know who I am talking about then you know that’s a pretty low place to be. I saw and did great things and stayed in nice hotels, not rancid hostels that are inundated with commoners. I have made friends from all over the world, I earn REALLY good money, I have laughed, I have cried, I have kissed. I have smiled with Irish girls, sworn with Scottish lads, conversed with Americans (amazing people, don’t always believe what you see on TV, in the newspapers, movies, on the internet, in tweets, reports, articles, studies etc., a lot of them are brilliant), offended pretty much everyone and creeped on girls that don’t even know where Africa is. I have more now than I have had all the days of my life.
Sure, life is not perfect, but I am grateful, and that is something that I have not been in a long time. |