Currently, I’m at Incheon International Airport, officially checked in and awaiting takeoff. Only 34 minutes until boarding time!

The next time I write, I’ll be in 31°C weather and working on my suntan. Now, tell me you’re not jealous! xx

The snowfall has continued all day. And though not much has accumulated on the ground, it’s another reminder that this year’s winter season isn’t ready to leave us just yet.

Since late December, the country’s uncharacteristically snowy season has caused quite a stir. The white stuff is making an appearance everywhere. It’s all over the news. It’s in everyone’s conversations. And when central Korea was hit with a record snowfall of nearly 26 cm. in early January, the natives went nuts. “Ann, have you ever seen so much snow?!” they exclaimed. (Although I, in fact, have, witnessing a seasonal high of more than 100 in. two years ago in Madison, I pretended to be just as astounded as they were.)  ”Korea has such a strong winter, don’t you think?!” the vice principal asked me at school one day, after half of my English camp kids had failed to show up for class. (And though I remember snow days to be a seasonal regularity in my elementary and middle school days, I smiled and nodded with enthusiasm.) “Such craziness!” my Korean co-teacher beamed. (I didn’t think it was that crazy, but agreed anyway.)

But in some ways it is crazy. As a native Wisconsinite, quite accustomed to heavy snowfall, it’s crazy to see how Korea handles, or rather, doesn’t handle, the snow. On that record-breaking day in early January, I saw buses stall, cars stall, and people, unable to figure out what to do, stall, too. Roadways looked like ski trails. Unable to see the road lines, drivers were going every which way, some sideways, some backwards. And without a single plow in sight, the snow just kept accumulating higher and higher. Bus schedules were obliterated. My route to school, which normally takes just 10 minutes, ended up taking an hour and a half. Cars were getting stuck in snowbanks, while turning corners, while going up hills, while doing just about anything. And flustered drivers, who had never before experienced such snowy road conditions, weren’t able to do anything but dig themselves deeper into the mess. Every man, woman and child was flummoxed. And I watched as the entire city of Suwon succumbed to mass confusion and chaos.

My first winter in Korea witnessed little snow, maybe three or four light snowfalls at the most. This winter was one of the snowiest in the country’s history. I’m not sure what the next winter holds in store. But if weather patterns continue to follow this season’s trend, I’d suggest that Korea invest in the development of some snow removal procedures! In the meantime, though, I’m just hoping the snow stops and winter is on its way out.

I was shocked by it. It wasn’t that those six or so pounds snuck up on me. It was the idea of weighing more in Korea than in the United States, the verifiable Fast Food Nation. Weighing more in a country with a 2005 obesity rate of just 3.2 percent than in the fattest country on the planet? What?! It didn’t make sense.

And from what I’ve seen and heard, plenty of other foreigners deal with this very same problem. They come to Asia expecting to lose weight but end up gaining it instead. It’s so prevalent, it’s managed to stop surprising me. But it’s still a little perplexing. Call it the phenomenon of the “Foreigner 15.”

But is it truly an enigma that Western expats would pack on the pounds in Korea, one of the world’s thinnest industrialized countries, with an obesity rate that’s nearly five times smaller than that of the United States? Not really. Maybe these expats always opt for the safest, most familiar foods that are calorie and carbo-loaded and deep-fried to boot. Maybe they sneak away to the nearest McDonalds, KFC or Dominos every chance they get to enjoy a fattening taste of home. Or maybe they actually like Korean foods, but develop an addiction to the unhealthiest variety.

The latter was my case. I loved the adventure of tasting new flavors. I loved the heat and spice. But I also loved some of the worst perpetrators of unhealthy eating: samgyeopsal (fatty pork galbi), ddeokbokki (glutinous rice cakes), donkkasu (fried pork cutlet), galbitang (oily beef rib soup), and, to top it all off, starchy rice with every meal. And it certainly didn’t help that my idea of being social was limited to drinking five nights a week and never going to the gym. Logically, I was bound to put on a few extra pounds. I suppose I’m fortunate not to have put on more.

These days I’m back down to my original weight. And I’m happy to report that it wasn’t all that difficult to do. I cut back on my beer consumption. I joined a gym and began to exercise regularly. I continued to eat all of my Korean favorites in moderation. And I discovered some healthier dishes to add to my list of favorites. All in all, pretty simple fixes that are proven tenets of any healthy lifestyle.

And that’s the key: to view Korea with the proper perspective. For a long time, I mistakenly thought of my time in Korea as an extended vacation, not as the way of life that it actually is. Vacations promote overindulgence, the disposal of habits, shortsightedness and the neglect of personal health, while lifestyles demand balance and moderation, good habits, long-term planning and responsibility for your own wellbeing. Korea isn’t a one or two or three-year vacation. It’s a way of life.

So, if you’re an expat concerned about gaining the Foreigner 15, my advice is to remain mindful of your mindset. Just because your world has been turned upside down doesn’t mean your healthy habits should too. Go ahead and explore as many new places as possible, meet as many new people as possible and try as many new foods as possible. But remember to keep some parts of your old routine, like working out and eating well. Good luck!

One of Korea’s top English newspapers, The Chosun Ilbo, reported the earthquake could be felt in regions surrounding Seoul within the Gyeonggi Province. But with Suwon located a good 20 miles south of the nation’s capital, residents of the “happy” city remained safe and sound and wholly unaware of what was shaking northward. I myself was unable to fall asleep until 5 a.m. but I blame that on my youtube marathon of The Amazing Race, not the earthquake!

Read the full Chosun Ilbo article here.

International travel is so standard to the foreign teacher’s lifestyle in Korea that I’ve forgotten just how extraordinary it really is. Despite the fact that I’ve lived nearly 20 years of my life without seeing a single thing beyond the United States’s borders, it’s now hard for me to imagine going for more than a year without a holiday abroad. Even my last international trip, to Taiwan just this past July, seems ages ago to me. Since arriving in Korea a year and a half ago, it’s the longest I’ve gone without a foreign vacation. But to think that I’ve become so accustomed to routine international adventure that I’m lamenting a six-month lapse is pretty mind-boggling and shows just how much my life has evolved. The small-town Wisconsin girl whose experience with ethnic diversity, cultural exchange and big-city living didn’t reach beyond Madison has become a world traveler! Wow.

So, you might be wondering, where will I be going next? (Drum roll, please …)

SINGAPORE!

My flight is booked and the countdown is on!

9 days to go …

But, of course, no matter how convenient public transport it, it’s never convenient enough. It doesn’t run late at night. It’s subject to occasional delays. It doesn’t stop at exactly the right place. Or it stops at all the wrong places and takes too much time. More likely, though, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it; there’s something wrong with me. On those days, the days that I can’t be bothered to wait because I’m too lazy, too hurried or too cold, I hail a taxi. And on those nights, the long and liquor-laden nights in Seoul, when there’s nothing I’d love more than to get home as soon as possible and pass out in my own bed, cabs are crucial.

Cabs in Korea are also pretty inexpensive, typically costing less than 10,000 KRW to get around Suwon or 30,000-40,000 KRW to get home from Seoul. But, still, on a teacher’s salary, paying a 1,000% mark-up on transport is not exactly smart.

Sometimes, though, I like cabs simply for the amusement they provide. When hailing a taxi, I come across as any other Korean trying to get from place to place. But when speaking my first words and explaining where I want to go, the drivers are always a little surprised. Cabbies come in all varieties and seem to me to be like a rudimentary cross-section of Korean mentalities toward Korean Americans like myself. Some drivers are eager to talk. Others would rather keep the conversation to a minimum. Some are interested in learning my story. Others seem offended by it.

When taking a cab, I can usually anticipate exactly how the conversation will go between myself and the cab driver within the first ten seconds of meeting him. Depending on how openminded and friendly he seems, it will unfold in one of three ways:

1. He’ll be eager to understand me. First he’ll ask if I’m a Chung-guk (Chinese person). Then he’ll ask if I’m an Ilbon (Japanese person). When I tell him I’m an American gyopo (ethnically Korean person who was raised abroad), he’ll smile and nod. He’ll ask me about my family and my home and my culture. He’ll want to know if I like Korea and whether I am comfortable here. He might give me a business card and tell me to call him if I’m ever lost. He’s interested in welcoming me to the country and making me feel at home. But he’s also respectful of my identity as a Westerner. He sees me for who I am, a Korean American.
2. He’ll be eager to make me understand him. Once he discovers I’m a gyopo, he’ll ask me if I have Korean parents, if I prefer Korean food, if I know the Korean language, if I plan on living in Korea forever. If I say no to any one of these queries, he’ll seem perplexed and want to know why. He might suggest I find my birth parents or insist on teaching me a few Korean words. He might talk on and on about the superiority of his country. He’s friendly, but borderline overbearing in his efforts to turn me on to my Korean identity. He’s interested in converting me from Korean American to just plain Korean. He sees me for who he wants me to be, a pure Korean.
3. He’ll refuse to understand at all. He’ll be angry that I can’t speak Korean fluently. He’ll be even angrier that I can’t understand his verbal censure. He’ll be rude and disrespectful. He’ll treat me as if I’m a major inconvenience to his day, and an even bigger burden to his country. He’ll act like my American citizenship is an insult to the Republic of Korea. He might give me a bad look or say something discriminatory. He might try to stiff me on the cab fare. He’s arrogant and ethnocentric and believes I have betrayed my heritage and ancestry. He sees me for who I am not, an anti-Korean American.

In these ways, my cab rides in Korea can be pleasantly friendly or uncomfortably not or anything in between. They can be lessons in cross-cultural understanding. They can be exercises in self-defense. They can be eye-opening. And they can make me wish I could blur out everything I see.

My cab-ride chronicles are a microcosmic reflection of my life experiences in Korea. Just like these three types of cab drivers, there seems to be three major types of Koreans: those who accept me, those who don’t, and those whose hatred makes it impossible. As a gyopo, I’ve encountered all sorts of interest, misunderstanding, question and pre-judgment about my identity. Sometimes it’s welcomed with curiosity. Sometimes it’s met with irritation. And sometimes it’s nothing short of offensive. But, in the end, I appreciate all of it. Because it has taught me so much about what I value and what I don’t, what I believe in and what I won’t, and how to hope for the best in a world that’s far from perfect.

Most days I follow the same general routine. I oversleep. I hurry to shower and dress. I skip breakfast. I go to work. I teach four morning classes and spend the afternoon lesson-planning, reading or writing. I leave work, have a quick workout at the gym and get ready for the night to begin. Usually it’s as simple as dinner or a movie with a friend. Sometimes it’s as mundane as grocery shopping or cleaning my apartment. And once in awhile, if I’m especially energetic, it’s a few drinks at Now Bar.

As creatures of habit, it’s all too easy to get caught up in the daily grind, without ever stopping to analyze what it is we’re really doing as we hurry from one time slot in our schedules to the next. Work. Home. Play. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. And so it goes from one weekday to the next.

But, luckily for me, as a resident of a foreign country, it’s also easy enough to snap out of it. Because every so often something happens that opens my eyes, jars my senses and reminds me of how wonderfuly strange, exciting, fascinating and confusing life can be, especially life abroad.

The trigger can be quite ordinary. Most times it is. Maybe it’s as simple as eating something new, learning a new Korean fact, or realizing you know hardly anything at all. Maybe it’s as frustrating as losing your way on public transportation, as annoying as struggling to figure out how to get the Internet repaired in your apartment, as frightening as being trampled by a group of over-aggressive ajummas (Korean for old women) in the street, or as awkward as feeling like absolutely everyone is staring at you. Maybe it’s as inspiring as swapping travel tales with a new pal, as hilarious as watching a Korean talk show on TV, as touching as hearing a student of yours tell you she loves you, or as heartwarming as being showered with piles of complimentary food, placed proudly on your table by the local restaurant owner, simply because you said you like Korean cuisine.

And that’s when you remember. You remember that life in Korea is nothing short of incredible.

CITIES IN KOREA VISITED: 13

MOUNTAINS CLIMBED: 3

BOOKS READ: 14

PICTURES TAKEN: 3,774

TRULY GOOD FRIENDS MADE: 5

APARTMENTS LIVED IN: 3

SONGS DOWNLOADED: 933

EMAILS SENT: 278

SCHOOLS OR ACADEMIES WORKED FULL OR PARTTIME AT: 4

IN-THEATER MOVIES SEEN: 9

BLOG POSTS WRITTEN: 38

PLANS TO ATTEND LAW SCHOOL CHANGED: 4

PAIRS OF SHOES BOUGHT: 8

BONES BROKEN: 1

HEARTS BROKEN: 1

MEMORIES MADE: COUNTLESS

So what does a homesick girl do to cheer herself up in times like these? Gather with good friends and celebrate! Celebrate what? Absolutely anything.

The Party Season.

November 14. Patrick & Elaine’s Engagement Party. On my second day in Korea, way back in August of 2008, I met an English-Canadian couple at Suwon Station who very graciously welcomed me to the country with galbi and soju. After months of lost contact, we got back in touch and just in time for their engagement! Patrick and Elaine’s friends gathered at a wine bar in Suwon to celebrate what we all think is the perfect culmination to a perfect match.

November 21. Connla’s Birthday Party. I have an Irish buddy named Connla, who I don’t think I’ve mentioned before, but who nonetheless is a close friend of mine. In celebration of his 27th birthday, a group of our friends shared some pre-bar drinks at his apartment before heading to Beomgye for a night of debaucherous dancing at Club Slang. To top the night off, the club’s special promotion, fifteen minutes of free tequila shots, came as a very welcome surprise to everyone. Because who needs cake when there’s tequila? Happy birthday, friend!

November 26. Thanksgiving Dinner with Ryan. Not about to half-heartedly celebrate the holiday with only a Korean meal and a comfortably full stomach, I made it my mission to cook as close to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner as possible and eat as much as I could. And even with limited resources and a tiny kitchen, I was able to stuff myself full with most of my holiday favorites. Ryan and I spent the evening eating piles of delicious food, watching good movies and engaging in even better conversation. And, in the end, the only nontraditional part of this Thanksgiving was the absence of turkey and the fact that my company was Canadian.

November 27. Byron’s Farewell Party. Where do Suwon expats go to celebrate their final night in Korea, to come together with their nearest and dearest friends and have that one last hurrah? For many, it’s the place where it all began, the place where they met their first real friends and first felt at home. It’s Now Bar. Ryan’s former coworker Byron did just that, gathering at everyone’s favorite foreigner hangout for a final round of drinks and memory making, before bidding farewell to the R.O.K. for what might be for good. We miss you, Byron!

November 28. Thanksgiving Potluck with Patrick & Elaine. In the true tradition of Thanksgiving, a big group of expats came together at Patrick and Elaine’s to share good food, good feelings and good fun.  I brought the sweet potatoes, which, for such a simple dish, turned out  to be surprisingly unedible. Luckily for everyone, there were plenty of other (properly made, delicious) foods to pass around, so not a person was left unsatisfied. After dinner we played a round of Cranium, substituting leftover mashed potatoes for the game’s misplaced clay component. A lot messier, but way more festive!

December 4. Luke’s Welcome-Back Gathering. Just as I was settling into life in Suwon, a Canadian named Luke had finished his tenure and was on his way out. Almost a year later, to everyone’s delight, Luke has come back to the country for another term of Korean fun. The lot of us gathered at Now Bar to welcome him back, and though I didn’t know him well to begin with, I was happy to join and become better acquainted with the person all my friends seemed to be talking about. 

December 11. My Apartment-Warming Party. After signing on for another year as a public school English teacher, this time at Gokban Elementary School, I moved off of my friend Sharon’s floor (where I was temporarily staying until I made the transition from parttime private tutoring to fulltime contracted job) and into my own snazzy loft-style apartment in Yeongtong, Suwon. This apartment, in the Seohyeon Officetel complex, is bigger, nicer and in a better location than my last. Thirty-five minutes southeast of my old place, Seohyeon Officetel is in a safer neighborhood, closer to my friends and within walking distance of Now Bar. Who could ask for more? And what better way to celebrate than to break the place in with a dozen good friends and a couple dozen bottles of almost-good wine?

December 12. Luke’s Apartment-Warming Party. The day after my own apartment-warming party, Luke hosted one of his own. This time the gang headed to the Jamsil/Sincheon area of Seoul to check out his new place before going to Hongdae for the night. I was in pretty rough shape, having spent the entire day feeling hungover, but somehow I managed to power through the nausea and occasional urges to vomit and end up enjoying more than my fair share of drinks for the second night in a row.

December 19. Jeremy’s Birthday Party. My South African friend Jeremy rang in his 26th year in the night clubs of Hongdae, stopping first at Go-Go’s and next at Jane’s Groove. We drank. We danced. We laughed. And though we can’t honestly say we remember all that much of the night, we can assure you it was birthday-worthy.

December 23. Potluck Dinner Party. Because I’ve been working to become a better cook and friend, I decided to invite some people over for a small dinner party, potluck style. This time around, my dish (recipe courtesy of the Food Network web site) was a bonafide hit! Along with my  yummy Spanish chicken empanadas, among the scrumptious smorgasbord of random recipes were Connla’s Irish mushroom mashed potatoes and Brian’s Canadian-Chinese stir-fried rice. It was an international feast, and I can’t wait to host another!

December 24. Dave’s X-Mas Eve Get-Together. Despite having to work on Christmas Eve, I found the day to be surprisingly bearable with my friend Dave’s holiday party to look forward to. With a gift exchange offering and bottle of red wine in tow, I showed up at Dave’s ready for whatever the night had in store. Immediately I was welcomed by a festively decorated apartment, the delicious smell of Dave’s speciality stew bubbling on the stovetop and a half a dozen cheerful hello’s, and I knew it was going to be a very merry Christmas Eve indeed.

December 25. Christmas Dinner & Drinks at Now Bar. After spending the day opening Christmas gifts and drinking egg nog, Ryan and I made our way to Now Bar for a big holiday feast with our Suwon family of friends. We shared a scrumptious meal of turkey and sides, along with the customary couple of pitchers of cheap Cass, which wasn’t so bad after we were too drunk to notice how bad it was. And, honestly, with so much Christmas cheer in the air and our very own Santa Clause (a.k.a. Connla), I don’t believe anyone really remembered what they expected to be missing.

December 31. New Year’s Eve Bash in Seoul. Ryan and I began our evening with a fancy dinner at Aioli, one of only a handful of good Italian restaurants in the area. A few plates of good food and a bottle of wine later, we met up with our friends Will and Karin to catch the bus to Seoul and go to Luke’s place for the pre-bar festivities. Just before midnight we moved the party to a local nightclub to officially count down the New Year. As it turned out, there was no official countdown and most of us, including me, missed the moment altogether. But however anticlimactic the New Year’s was, I’d still say it was among the best I’ve ever had.◊