Ursus Travel Origins (Part 2)

From Honduras to South Korea: My Journey After the Coup

So, remember where we left off? Peace Corps, prostitutes, earthquake, military coup? Yeah, sounds about right. Once I finally got out of there, I knew my life abroad wasn’t finished. I just needed another way to make it work. The US economy was in the shitter after the crash in October 2008. Staying wasn’t really an option. I had built the idea of leaving America up in my soul so much that it would’ve meant spiritual death if I had stayed (I wholeheartedly believe that). My journey to living in South Korea actually had its roots in Latin America, of all places.

Guadalajara, Mexico: July/August 2007

The year before I graduated university, I lived in Guadalajara, Mexico. I did what’s called a TEFL certificate—Teaching English to Speakers of Foreign Languages. Back in those days (and even still today), if you had a university degree in anything (they don’t care what) and one of these certificates, you could go live and teach English in other countries. Little did I know that this experience and certificate would change the course of my life for the next 19 years. Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures from this time period because my digital camera (remember those?) was stolen!

Why South Korea?

The choice to move to South Korea was obvious for me. I had just left the Peace Corps, I had student loans to pay, jobs in South Korea pay a pretty decent salary, healthcare is included, and if you get a job as a foreigner in South Korea, your company must provide accommodation for you. I was going to make plenty of money while paying off my student loans and getting the experience of living in a foreign culture. Remember, the US economy was horrible at this time.

So, I ended up working for a company in a place called Pyeongtaek, South Korea. I flew 14 hours on a direct flight. Oh, I forgot to mention—the company paid for the flight to get me there. I had $600 cash in my pocket and about $400 in my Bank of America account. My instructions were clear: get on the plane, fly to South Korea, hop on a bus at the airport, arrive in this smaller city about an hour away, and someone would be there to pick me up and take me to my new apartment. Remember, this was before smartphones. I didn’t have a SIM card to make calls in South Korea, so I basically had to have faith someone would be there when I arrived. I had a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper in case of emergency.

The Surprise

Well, I arrived and… no one was there to pick me up. I was standing in this bus station in a town I’d never even heard of until I got the job offer, and no one was around to help me. Luckily, the bus station was in the middle of the town, and things in South Korea stay open pretty late. It was about 11 PM. I was jet-lagged, nervous, and now stranded in this bus station. I went out to the street to ask for help, but no one would assist me. Finally, an American, who was with his Korean wife, walked up to me and asked if I needed help. I guess it was pretty obvious I looked terrified. Thankfully, he offered his cell phone.

Mr. Kim was the man who picked me up. I had no idea this guy was also my boss at the time. He spoke almost no English, which I found surprising since he was the head of an English academy. We basically communicated with hand gestures and symbols. He really wanted to explain something to me but couldn’t get it out. Suddenly, we pulled into a hotel. I thought I was going to my apartment? Oh god. Am I being trafficked? Ha! Luckily, no. My apartment was brand new, and he had forgotten to pick up the key earlier in the day from the owner. We had to spend the night in a cheap roadside motel. We were separated by a folding divider. Completely jet-lagged and dazed, I was just thankful to see a bed.

The next morning, after surviving what I thought might be sex trafficking, we drove to the future school where I was to work. Then, we headed to my future home. He was right; it was brand new. When we walked in the door, the first thing I remember thinking was, “Where is all the furniture?” Apparently, the furniture wouldn’t be delivered until the following week, so I was given a Hello Kitty comforter and a pillow and told I would be sleeping on the floor until the furniture arrived. I was also informed I didn’t have to go to work until the following Tuesday (this was Saturday morning). Mr. Kim said his goodbyes and left. So, there I was, left alone for the rest of the weekend with my Hello Kitty blanket and a pillow. Then I decided to walk around my new town.

Camp Humphries

Walking around the town felt disorienting. I couldn’t believe I was actually in Asia. The town was very clean and nice (as with most things in South Korea). I was walking along, looking around, and then, to my surprise, I saw a bar called The Dixie Bar with a giant LED light sign that was a Confederate flag! WTF!? I kept walking, surprised at what I had just seen when I spotted some US soldiers in full camo gear eating a burrito at a Mexican restaurant!? Double WTF!? Well, it turns out my town was adjacent to the US Army base in South Korea—Camp Humphries. Did not see that coming. The town adjacent to my neighborhood was built with the soldiers in mind. Mexican food, Dixie Bar, hamburger joints… At least I wouldn’t be missing my favorite foods! Not to mention the eye candy of US soldiers.

The Job and the Most Typical English Teacher Story in South Korea

I reported to work on the first day expecting to teach. Well, the building wasn’t finished being constructed, so the government wouldn’t let the school open until the following month when all construction would be completed. The school was finished, but the rest of the building attached wasn’t. So, I was told to report every day for a month, open textbooks, and make and print flashcards based on the vocabulary of each English teaching unit. I spent six hours a day on Google images ripping images off the internet, printing them, and then laminating them. I wasn’t complaining. By the time the school actually opened, I had worked my way through countless textbooks.

When we finally started teaching, everything was going well. I worked from 3 PM to 8 PM every day after the children left school. That first month, around November 2009, was great. No complaints from me. I had learned to love Korean food and made friends with my coworkers. Things started to go south shortly thereafter.

Turns out, when you sign an employment contract in South Korea as a foreigner, there is a copy in English and a copy in Korean. They assure you they are the same. They are not. The recruiter who hired me told me I would be working from 3 PM to 8 PM—five classes of 55 minutes each with a five-minute break between classes. Not bad. Well, according to my Korean contract, the school could have me there as many hours as needed without paying any overtime until a ridiculous amount of hours had been taught. Not hours you’re there at the job, but hours that are taught.

The company began slowly introducing more and more work, including “Phone Class.” Let me just explain Phone Class. My students were five years old, yet they had cell phones. So, at the end of every day, I was expected to spend two extra hours calling five-year-olds on the phone to speak with them in English. They didn’t even speak English yet, so the conversation was basically me saying, “Repeat, HAPPY!” You would spend five minutes with each student repeating vocabulary words on the phone until 10 PM at night.

Then one day, we were informed that we were to report to the job at 9 AM every day so that the local public school kids could take a field trip to our school, and we would be teaching them from 9 AM to 12 PM… without extra pay. We also were no longer allowed to leave the school for lunch. So now I was expected to work from 9 AM in the morning until 10 PM at night, Monday through Friday! I felt deceived.

I bit my tongue and bore the ridiculousness of the situation I had gotten myself into, which felt very much like exploitation. I did this insane schedule for three months… until my boss opened her mouth.

This woman did NOTHING. NOTHING. Mr. Kim was the director of the school, but I reported to this woman, Lisa. Lisa literally would show up every day and look for recipes on the work computer to cook for her American husband. She had no real responsibilities. She just sat at her desk and pretended to work every day. I know this because my friend worked just behind her.

She had asked us to file reports on every student we had on top of all the other work we had to do. So, I did it. After working long hours, I went home and worked on them and finished the next day, turning them in. Well, when I went to leave that day, she informed me that I had used the wrong format and that all of them would have to be redone. No one informed me we were now using a different format. “Oh sorry, forgot to mention it. You’ll have to do all of them over again.” I went off on her. I’m working 9 AM to 10 PM every day, and you literally do nothing at the school. You have one job, lady. Not cool. Not cool at all. By this point, I was over it. I also brought up the fact that the contract in English that I signed said one thing, and what we were doing in practice was another.

She decided to hold a meeting with everyone at the company and told them that I had “attacked her,” playing the biggest fake victim you’ve ever seen. My coworkers immediately let me know what was going on, as I had formed a pretty good bond with them. “We know you didn’t attack her… we were there, we saw it. But this is South Korea. You’re not supposed to hold superiors accountable, even if they are full of shit. They will lose face. This is her trying to get revenge on you.” I knew my time in Korea was coming to an end soon. I decided even if they didn’t fire me, I was leaving. Screw this!

How I Escaped

This was a shit situation. I had read stories of teachers who put in two weeks' notice and then never got paid for work performed. If the school knows you’re leaving, they will invent lies that you have stolen from the school and get you arrested. They will call immigration and have them stop you at the airport when you try to leave. These were all tips I got from English Teacher Facebook groups back then. After assessing the situation, I decided to pull a runner.

Luckily, this was two weeks before Chinese New Year in January/February 2010. My coworkers and I already had tickets booked to Beijing for Chinese New Year. We had already talked about the trip in the break room, and everyone knew we were going.

In the end, I wasn’t fired. But I didn’t care. I was going. I just had to survive two weeks and sacrifice two weeks of work that I knew I wouldn’t be getting paid for. I just had to make it to China.

Simon and Katie from London, Ontario, were my coworkers. I showed up at about 6 AM at the bus stop with all my bags packed—not just a carry-on but a huge suitcase with EVERYTHING. They immediately knew what was happening. I was told to play it cool until I cleared immigration in China. Then I could write an email and explain the situation to the higher-ups in the company.

I just told them the truth. I’m not working these conditions anymore, and if you don’t want people running on their contracts, then stop misleading them when you hire them. And if you wanted a notice period, well, don’t accuse people of crimes they haven’t committed because they want to leave their job! Assholes.

I did enjoy that trip to Beijing quite a lot, actually. The relief of not having to go back to Korea was bliss. However, whatever relief I felt suddenly turned to anxiety when I realized I was on the other side of the planet, in China, with no job and no paycheck coming. I had about $3000 saved up, and it would have to last me until I found a new job, a place to live, and worked for a month to get another paycheck. It was February 2010. What was I gonna do?

What I Learned

• In Asia, hierarchy is everything, not just in Korea. Everyone knows when someone is full of shit, but you aren’t allowed to say anything if they are older or have a higher position. They could have the worst idea ever, but you’re supposed to just smile. Even constructive criticism is a big no-no. That is VERY western.

• Hire a translator. Don’t sign ANYTHING unless you know EXACTLY what it says.

• Build a support network of locals and fellow expats. They had my back and gave me the correct advice. Countless stories of teachers exploited and then falsely accused of crimes they didn’t commit.

• Always keep your cool. In Asia, if you just keep your cool no matter how stressful or crazy the situation, it will 9 times out of 10 work out in your favor.

  
  

To be continued in part 3...