Five years ago, I was at crossroads in my life. High school was coming to a close and there were choices that needed to be made. What was I going to do next?
Go to university like my parents wanted me to do?
And study what exactly?
Take a gap year?
Travel the world?
Find a job?
A year earlier, my sister had been faced with some choices of her own - her university career was coming to a close and she could get a permanent job or take a gap year. She decided on the gap year option, and she looked at a number of different possibilities, including that of teaching abroad. Though I was never involved in the decision-making process, the prospect of teaching abroad was the one that appealed to me the most. It wasn't her final decision - she instead decided to work on cruise ships in the Caribbean - but the idea stuck in my head, and a year later when I was making decisions of my own, the idea was looking very very appealing. I didn't get very far with the planning of it at that stage, since my parents were pretty adament that I would go to university before anything else, but the idea stuck in the back of my mind.
Three years later, I was at another crossroads. I was about to finish my degree. I had applied to do a post-graduate diploma, but I was worried that I wouldn't get into the programme and I wanted to be prepared for that possibility. The idea of teaching abroad which had been at the back of my mind for three years came to the foreground when I got an e-mail from Teach Korea, a company based in Cape Town that looked for bright eyed and bushy tailed graduates to come and teach on this side of the world. I hadn't really considered Korea before then - I had been focussing my attention on Thailand, but had recently heard that it wasn't really the place to go. And then this opportunity fell into my lap. Teaching in Korea. It didn't sound too bad to me. I looked at the benefits, and almost responded to the e-mail right then and there saying "sign me up". But then I got a response from the journalism department. I had been accepted into the post-graduate diploma programme. I had been given an amazing opportunity, and I wasn't about to let that pass me by. Korea could wait, I decided.
I started my journalism course and got stuck into it. I put my heart and soul into the programme and loved it to pieces. But, on the sideline, I was still doing research. I looked into Thailand once more, and decided that it definitely wasn't the place for me. I looked into Japan, but the cost of living was too high and the benefits weren't even close to those that I would get in Korea. I looked into China, but found that they wouldn't accept me because I have no prior teaching experience. I looked into Taiwan, but the pay wasn't as good and and I would have to pay for my own apartment on top of the reduction in salary. My focus was always on Asia, since I wanted to go somewhere that was completely out of my comfort zone. I wanted an experience, and in my mind going somewhere completely removed from the Western world was the only way I could guarantee getting that. And so I went through my options and started gathering my paperwork and filling out applications.
Resumes.
Police Clearances.
Reference Letters.
Interviews.
Teaching course.
Though the teaching course wasn't compulsary, I had been told that it would help my cause a great deal and make it easier for me to get a job as a teacher in Korea and anywhere else in the world. So I went for it. By December I was told that I had been accepted for the February intake, and I couldn't have been happier. It was perfect - I would have two months to prepare myself, to save up some money and invest in some work-appropriate clothing, to say goodbye to my friends and family, and to come to terms with moving halfway across the world. I was told that I would have my contract by the beginning of January, and so I waited with baited breathe.
The beginning of January came and went. I had sent e-mails to the company asking what was happening, but got no response. I had been informed late in December that the contracts could arrive as far in the future as mid- to late January, but I started getting nervous. By the time the 20th came around, I was a nervous wreck. Screw it, I decided, I was phoning them. The call was one of the hardest I have ever been through. Being told that I had been shortlisted, rejected, that I could leave as late as August if then and trying not to cry while I was being told this was nightmarish. I hung up the phone and realised that I would have to find a job. A decent job, that is, rather than the one that I already had working for my aunt on a part-time basis. Three weeks, they said. They would give me three weeks of notice before I would have to leave.
I started the job hunt that I had seen Michael going through, and though I did better than him initially, getting lots of interviews and lots of praise, I couldn't find anything even vaguely decent. I slipped into a mild depression, feeling that everything in my life was going wrong. And then, one morning, while driving Michael to an interview, I got the call. My contract was on its way. They wanted me to leave in a week and a half. From there it was a rush of
getting contracts read and signed by various parties,
shopping,
booking plane tickets,
shopping,
getting contracts signed,
shopping,
quitting my part-time job and,
oh yeah,
SHOPPING!
I had to prepare for the cold winter that I would be facing. I had a week and a half to get ready, and somehow I managed. My contract arrived on the Monday after the phone call and was quickly scanned, signed, and sent off to Pretoria along with my visa application.
"It will be ready on Wednesday and we want you to leave on Thursday."
Tuesday morning came the call from the Korean embassy.
"You forgot to sign the last page."
Sending off another contract to Pretoria.
"It will be ready on Thursday and we want you to leave on Friday."
"It will be ready on Friday morning and we want you to pick it up at the airport."
"It will be ready on Friday afternoon and we want you to leave on Saturday."
"Perhaps it is best if you leave on Monday."
All of this came in the midst of hurried goodbyes and dealing with Catherine from Pangea Travels who insisted that I travel with them despite their plane tickets being R1000 more expensive than the airline was advertising for the same flight. Eventually the day arrived, and I left South Africa, a 21 year old recent graduate with no real work experiences who had never travelled on her own.
I arrived in Korea an inexperienced bundle of nerves, hardly prepared for what it would be like, and hardly prepared to be a role-model to teenage children. But that is what I have become, or at the very least what I am becoming. This is the story of my year in Korea - the ups, the downs, the happiness, the sadness and all the details of the things that happen in between. Enjoy.
Go to university like my parents wanted me to do?
And study what exactly?
Take a gap year?
Travel the world?
Find a job?
A year earlier, my sister had been faced with some choices of her own - her university career was coming to a close and she could get a permanent job or take a gap year. She decided on the gap year option, and she looked at a number of different possibilities, including that of teaching abroad. Though I was never involved in the decision-making process, the prospect of teaching abroad was the one that appealed to me the most. It wasn't her final decision - she instead decided to work on cruise ships in the Caribbean - but the idea stuck in my head, and a year later when I was making decisions of my own, the idea was looking very very appealing. I didn't get very far with the planning of it at that stage, since my parents were pretty adament that I would go to university before anything else, but the idea stuck in the back of my mind.
Three years later, I was at another crossroads. I was about to finish my degree. I had applied to do a post-graduate diploma, but I was worried that I wouldn't get into the programme and I wanted to be prepared for that possibility. The idea of teaching abroad which had been at the back of my mind for three years came to the foreground when I got an e-mail from Teach Korea, a company based in Cape Town that looked for bright eyed and bushy tailed graduates to come and teach on this side of the world. I hadn't really considered Korea before then - I had been focussing my attention on Thailand, but had recently heard that it wasn't really the place to go. And then this opportunity fell into my lap. Teaching in Korea. It didn't sound too bad to me. I looked at the benefits, and almost responded to the e-mail right then and there saying "sign me up". But then I got a response from the journalism department. I had been accepted into the post-graduate diploma programme. I had been given an amazing opportunity, and I wasn't about to let that pass me by. Korea could wait, I decided.
I started my journalism course and got stuck into it. I put my heart and soul into the programme and loved it to pieces. But, on the sideline, I was still doing research. I looked into Thailand once more, and decided that it definitely wasn't the place for me. I looked into Japan, but the cost of living was too high and the benefits weren't even close to those that I would get in Korea. I looked into China, but found that they wouldn't accept me because I have no prior teaching experience. I looked into Taiwan, but the pay wasn't as good and and I would have to pay for my own apartment on top of the reduction in salary. My focus was always on Asia, since I wanted to go somewhere that was completely out of my comfort zone. I wanted an experience, and in my mind going somewhere completely removed from the Western world was the only way I could guarantee getting that. And so I went through my options and started gathering my paperwork and filling out applications.
Resumes.
Police Clearances.
Reference Letters.
Interviews.
Teaching course.
Though the teaching course wasn't compulsary, I had been told that it would help my cause a great deal and make it easier for me to get a job as a teacher in Korea and anywhere else in the world. So I went for it. By December I was told that I had been accepted for the February intake, and I couldn't have been happier. It was perfect - I would have two months to prepare myself, to save up some money and invest in some work-appropriate clothing, to say goodbye to my friends and family, and to come to terms with moving halfway across the world. I was told that I would have my contract by the beginning of January, and so I waited with baited breathe.
The beginning of January came and went. I had sent e-mails to the company asking what was happening, but got no response. I had been informed late in December that the contracts could arrive as far in the future as mid- to late January, but I started getting nervous. By the time the 20th came around, I was a nervous wreck. Screw it, I decided, I was phoning them. The call was one of the hardest I have ever been through. Being told that I had been shortlisted, rejected, that I could leave as late as August if then and trying not to cry while I was being told this was nightmarish. I hung up the phone and realised that I would have to find a job. A decent job, that is, rather than the one that I already had working for my aunt on a part-time basis. Three weeks, they said. They would give me three weeks of notice before I would have to leave.
I started the job hunt that I had seen Michael going through, and though I did better than him initially, getting lots of interviews and lots of praise, I couldn't find anything even vaguely decent. I slipped into a mild depression, feeling that everything in my life was going wrong. And then, one morning, while driving Michael to an interview, I got the call. My contract was on its way. They wanted me to leave in a week and a half. From there it was a rush of
getting contracts read and signed by various parties,
shopping,
booking plane tickets,
shopping,
getting contracts signed,
shopping,
quitting my part-time job and,
oh yeah,
SHOPPING!
I had to prepare for the cold winter that I would be facing. I had a week and a half to get ready, and somehow I managed. My contract arrived on the Monday after the phone call and was quickly scanned, signed, and sent off to Pretoria along with my visa application.
"It will be ready on Wednesday and we want you to leave on Thursday."
Tuesday morning came the call from the Korean embassy.
"You forgot to sign the last page."
Sending off another contract to Pretoria.
"It will be ready on Thursday and we want you to leave on Friday."
"It will be ready on Friday morning and we want you to pick it up at the airport."
"It will be ready on Friday afternoon and we want you to leave on Saturday."
"Perhaps it is best if you leave on Monday."
All of this came in the midst of hurried goodbyes and dealing with Catherine from Pangea Travels who insisted that I travel with them despite their plane tickets being R1000 more expensive than the airline was advertising for the same flight. Eventually the day arrived, and I left South Africa, a 21 year old recent graduate with no real work experiences who had never travelled on her own.
I arrived in Korea an inexperienced bundle of nerves, hardly prepared for what it would be like, and hardly prepared to be a role-model to teenage children. But that is what I have become, or at the very least what I am becoming. This is the story of my year in Korea - the ups, the downs, the happiness, the sadness and all the details of the things that happen in between. Enjoy.
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