Ann Arbor with Kimchi

That's what my mom said to think of Seoul as.

"It's just like Ann Arbor with kimchi."

Well, it's not Ann Arbor, that's for sure. I haven't had much of an impression yet. It's not what I imagined.

My boss and the administrator took me and two of my new roommates out for a traditional Korean feast. We took off our shoes and sat on the floor and ate czap cze and bulgogi and kimchi and seaweed and so much more. My stomach, which had been been desperately roaring for the mere thought of food when I landed suddenly flipped on me and stubbornly refused to enjoy the food I was shoveling into it. Whether that's a dangerous sign that I'm not that into Korean cuisine or just a symptom of unimaginably-long-flight-itis I don't know.

Everyone is so incredibly nice. It even came out as nice when I was told repeatedly that they had actually wanted to hire someone else because my visa was so late in coming. How's that for starting off on the right foot?

As it turns out I don't actually start teaching until Monday. I'll admit I panicked slightly when I heard that. Sure, the idea of starting to teach kindergartners the day after I stepped off the plane was terrifying but even more terrifying was the thought of having 4 full weekdays utterly alone in a strange country.
Haha, that doesn't sound scary to me at all, now that I think about it. Let me rephrase: 4 full weekdays utterly alone in a strange country I will not be able to leave for another year. Wow. So much time to drive myself crazy.

My mission for tomorrow is to try to make this alien little room a proper sanctuary. Then the parents suggested I take advantage of the free time and go sightseeing. Which sounds like the best idea I've ever heard.

I'm discovering the presents Evan left for me in my luggage. What would I do without this boy and his green post-it notes?

I don't think I like kimchi.