181023 Daesung at First Army Command ( 제1야전군) Music Event, Hoengseong | do not remove credit

181023 Daesung at First Army Command ( 제1야전군) Music Event, Hoengseong | do not remove credit

Far too many months have passed since I last wrote. I blame life for handing me a 2015 that didn’t quite match the one I had in mind for me. It’s actually developed quite the habit of changing my plans without my consent, since it started its shenanigans in February. But, to be fair, my year started on a rather perfect note.

January brought David to Korea. He came with me to my winter camp, had dinners with my favourite Korean colleagues, climbed my mountain (twice), and explored all the nearby waterfalls, valleys and historical buildings on his own while I taught. I’d come home from school to new pieces of furniture, dark chocolate on my bed, and cuddles from my favourite hairy arms. Then, when I finally had a bit of a break, we flew to the Philippines for a breath-taking six days. What a raw, unspoilt space. I loved the tropical fruit, the temperature of the water, the fact that we could ask for directions in English. I loved that we went to watch the dolphins at sunrise on a hand-made boat, and that the only way to get around on land in Bohol, my favourite spot, was by clutching onto a local for dear life as he weaved us through the streets on his scooter. I loved that the beachside restaurants all became food markets at night, and that we chose our dinner raw before it was tossed onto a nearby fire. And I especially loved that we slept in a tiny reed hut, kitted with gorgeous batik robes that made wearing clothes somewhat redundant, especially when we had powerful, practiced hands pushing the knots out of our shoulders.

But when January ended and I kissed David goodbye at the top of the long escalators that lead him home, I was kissing my Korean life as I’d always known it goodbye too.

Smack bang in the middle of my first two intensive Masters courses which commenced two days later, I received a friendly message from Damien, one of the five foreign teachers I met on my first day in Korea, welcoming me to his home, Hoengseong. Not only was this the first time I’d heard the news of my impending move, I’d also never officially requested to transfer towns. Long story short: the provincial office of education under-estimated the job cuts in Cheorwon, the paperwork never arrived, I messed up the timing for expressing my concerns, and my district coordinator failed to forward me the information that my job no longer existed in March, and that I was required to relocate three and a half hours (and a bus transfer) away, two months shy of the end of my contract.

But the cherry blossoms I dreamed of the night before my move were quite telling of the magic in all the madness. Get this, my new co-teacher not only has a conscience, she actually jumps to translate my bills, she happily fights with Korea Post for my delayed international parcels, she gives me lifts to the city nearby without me having to ask, she stuffs food down my throat when I’m a sickly human, and, on May 22, she threw me a surprise birthday party at work, because “your family is not here, so we are your family”. And none of my new students resemble the stuck-up sixth graders who swallowed my soul last year. Instead, they beam at me when they bump into me on the street, and they fight over Dani-hugs in the school corridors between classes. But the best bit: I actually manage to finish my lesson planning during working hours.

And it’s not just the job that makes Hoengseong a delightful space in which to live: ‘Danakada’ exists here. Damien, Naomi, Karol and I cook for each other, we explore our surroundings together, we have experimental meditation evenings, and we visit each other's apartments simply for non-lonely spaces to cry when the world expects too much. Plus, it doesn’t hurt living in a town that’s only twenty minutes away from a decent grocery store. When August arrives, and I’m more than halfway through my Masters courses, maybe I can dedicate more time to wandering into unassuming restaurants, attending more Market Days for locally-grown vegetable purchases, and walking along the Hoengseong River at sunset.