All Things New

So on Friday I moved into my new apartment. Friday night and all day today (Saturday) I cleaned and ran errands to get the stuff I needed.

I count today as a success, because last night I slept with the sheets I'd brought from America, my flannel shirt as a pillow, and no blankets. But tonight I get to sleep in this:



This morning I took a shower with no shower curtain, but tomorrow I'll have this:



And today I had no way of heating up my leftovers, but tomorrow I'll have this:



I still need to sweep and mop some more, and then I need to finish unpacking all my stuff, but I think I got a lot done today and I feel good.

I've Been Here a Year

Wow. This year has just flown by.

Tonight I stayed up too late packing. Tomorrow is my last day at my current job. Monday I start work at my new academy. Everything's changing so fast.

This is my last night in this apartment, and already I feel homesick for it. I never realized how much I thought of it as home until I finally tried to sleep at 2 a.m. after packing far too long. Suddenly my bed's so comfortable, this apartment so familiar.

I knew I'd miss the kids, the other teachers...but I don't think that I ever realized how much I've come to feel at home right here.

As strange as it may sound, I almost feel like moving across the street this week is somehow harder than moving across the world last year.

Maybe I've finally found a place to settle down and stay a while.

A Doldrum-Themed Park

Did I mention the zoo in Jeonju has an amusement park attached?

Okay, so maybe there aren't even a dozen rides, and maybe it looks a little like a run-down carnival no one remembered to pack up, but my friend and I still managed to have fun.



We tried the Sky Cycle, where you pedal around an elevated track around the park, the carousel (which was by far my favorite), the swan boat ride, and the ferris wheel.

I wondered how the swan boat ride would work, since the water underneath was clearly frozen.

Well, as it turns out, the boats don't even touch the water, so its status was of no consequence:



I enjoyed the views from the ferris wheel, though. We had some great sights of the park...







...and beyond.

The Wild Side of Jeonbuk Province

The Tuesday after Seollal, my good friend and I went to the zoo in Jeonju.



Upon entering, we were greeted by this lovely peacock,



which was actually quite aesthetically impressive compared to some of the decorative constructions we saw later:



We also saw some real live angry birds (and others who might have just been numb from the icy cold):











There was a camel and a zebra,





and a tiger who seemed to roar a lot when we weren't near enough to see it:



No one ever recommends seeing this zoo. Why?

My Korean coworker told me that the huge theme park in Korea, Everland, has an attraction with wild animals. When the animals get sick or old, she said, they send them to the zoo in Jeonju.

My Canadian coworker went himself one day. When I asked if he'd go with me, he totally refused: “That place is just depressing!”

So when my friend and I saw this elephant, seeming to smile and dance for us, I resolved to tell my Canadian coworker about it:



“We saw at least one happy animal!” I said.

“It's not happy!” he replied. “It's just doing what it was trained to do, perform while people watch.”

Maybe he's right. But I still had a good time. It's a far cry from the zoo in Washington, DC, but I saw six tigers in Jeonju, and the tigers are never out when I go to DC. That's got to count for something!

Panda Cream: A Parting Gift

It's my last week at SLP, and today I came in to find a wonderful surprise on my desk:



Inside was a truly touching letter and a cute and fitting gift:



This adorable box contained an even more adorable panda, which contained soft-smelling hand cream.



Not too strong, not too greasy. Exactly what I need in sub-zero high-winds winter.

I'm gonna miss some of these kids!

A Most Satisfying Gift

This week a nice girl at my church gave me an extraordinary present.

She'd sewn it both with a machine and by hand, and stuffed it full of rice. She even offered it to me with an adorable little bow.



It functions much the same as my mother's rice-filled sock back home, which makes me wonder why on earth I didn't think to try it on my own, seeing as there's certainly no shortages of either socks or rice out here.

Just pop it in the microwave and bingo! Your own personal source of reusable heat.

I slept with it last night, and I have to say that it's the warmest sleep I've gotten here this winter. The weather's been at more than ten below freezing lately - and that's not counting windchill - so this is a really timely gift.

"I Go To, Too!"

It's a good thing my boss didn't ask me to sign a renewal contract before Christmas, because I would have said yes.  The stress of preparing for the Winter Festival, which made me not even want Christmas to come at all except that it would signify that all that work would end, and the realization that my life at work would always become busier still and never less, brought me to the recognition that I needed to find a different job.  I still love Gunsan, so I wanted to stay here, but I needed a healthier place to work.

As it happens, my church has an English school as well, and they were hoping I would work there.  For a couple weeks leading up to Christmas I'd begun to realize that that was the right decision to make, and my wonderful excursion with my pastor, his wife, and others on Christmas Sunday brought exactly the confirmation I needed to know it was the right decision.

So I'll be in Korea for at least another year (I hope for more), but I'll be starting work at a new school and soon I'll be moving to a new apartment.  I'm both nervous and excited, but I know it will work out, because I know this choice is right.

Today I broke the news to my kindergarten class, because my last day with them is the 10th.  And one of my favorite students, who used to be so bad but has become so good, looked up at me with his eyes all wide and serious, the way they get when he wants me to know (or think, in cases when he's done something wrong) that he means business.  His voice was shakier than usual and had that little waver in it like when I'm about to send him out of the classroom and he's suddenly remorseful for not listening.  And he asked me, "Suzanne teacher, where to going?"

I told him where, and said that I will stay in Gunsan, that maybe I will see him again in Lotte Mart (I have run into his mother there before, in fact).

And he said, his voice about to break from all his earnesty, "I go to, too.  I go to, too!"

And I was both sad and touched.  I'm grateful to have a student--even one who had been quite a terror at the start--who is so attached to me that he wants to follow me wherever I may go.  I'm sad that he's so sad that I will leave.  I knew it would be hard for some of them, because they are small and have become very affectionate, so I wanted them to have some time to get used to the idea that I will leave and someone else will come.  But then I felt a little bad, because now some of them are very sad.  I still think this is better, though, rather than telling them so suddenly when they have no chance to say goodbye.  I hope I do see some of them again.  I certainly will miss them.  They are wonderful children, even the troublemakers, and I love all of them.

I hope whatever impact I have made on them has been a good one, whether large or small.