Up, up and away!

Do you see that child to the right there? Little Clarence there, the one who looks like someone just plopped him down in front of a rock and walked off (to the left of course since he seems to be glaring suspiciously in that direction). Sure he's lookin' mighty good in his gorgeous dress, smart little cardi, and charming side part...BUT he's still been left all alone in front of some random roughage, and, quite understandably, he looks more than a bit apprehensive. That, my friends (and soon to be loyal readers *crosses fingers, eyes, toes and legs*)is exactly how I've been feeling as of late as I prepared to leave that land-mass we so affectionately refer to as Canada for no less than ONE WHOLE YEAR! I'm lookin' good and all, but g.d. it, I am SO FREAKIN' SCARED! Not to be a whiner of anything, I mean, I think that anyone would be scared if they were left in the wilderness in a dress, just like I think anyone who says they aren't scared to embark on a long-term stay in a whole other country they've never been to before is LYING! PANTS ON FIRE! I think the extent of my "freaking out" is best exemplified by an ongoing "panic attack" count throughout this post.

I'll write more later about my insatiable need for "stuff", but let's just say now that packing was the opposite of a picnic (completely lacking in delicious potato salad or supahfun foot races or what have you, and chock full of LOTS OF PINS IN MY EYES which is about as far away as you can get from the funsploit known as a picnic). I've never been to Korea before, nor have I been a real-type teacher (just the fake-type), so OF COURSE I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO PACK! In the end I ended up with two HUGE oversize bags and one slightly smaller "normal sized" bag, which really was not a great deal lighter. My bags are even far too fat for Pete's sake! I hardly think this is my fault though, as I have decided that Air Canada's luggage regulations are in no way designed for people leaving to go anywhere for an extended period of time. Although I can't imagine anyone needing anything remotely resembling 100lbs of "stuff" for a two week vacation to Cancun, you can bet your boopy that I'll need 186lbs of stuff for a year long stay in a country where I'm far too fat to purchase any clothing!

Panic attack #1-5 occurred throughout the week as I stared at the selection of my possessions I'd chosen as "potentials" strewn across my grandparent's living room and desperately tried to imagine fitting any of it in to two 50lb suitcases in some sort of o

rderly fashion.

Getting through security, which is usually the most nerve wracking part of flying (at least in my opinion), was relatively pain free. We actually got a security dude who was kind and helpful (instead of beyond terrifying and suspicious), and while I had to

mostly unpack my carry ons due to the high volume of electronics and metal based jewelry I seem to have insisted on putting in them, we were all the way through and ready to go in under 10 minutes.

Panic attack #6 had less to do with airport security itself than it did to the fact that I'm a giant blubbering baby and started missing my family the second they were out of eyesight. Luckily I found some beef jerky to distract myself, and Bryan was kind enough to spill coffee all over himself which provided an excellent diversion.

The flight was long, but after a certain point, I think you just come to accept the fact that you're going to be TRAPPED FOREVER (or at least 16 hours) and move on with life in your new and cramped little home. I mean, it comes complete with a t.v. screen, hand delivered meals, and your very own blankie and pillow, so who wouldn't want to live there I ask you? The flight was altogether uneventful, and provided the opportunity to watch The Fantastic Mr.Fox, The Imaginarium of Dr.Parnasus (Serioulsy Terry Gilliam, what is wrong with you?)and The Lovely Bones (creepy,S

tanley Tucci, very very very creepy...), as well as to read part of Miranda July's No One Belongs Here More Than You. So overall I think it could even be referred to as a productive flight...I mean aside from my slight meltdown over Russia mid-flight (Panic attack #7..."BRYAN I'M SCARED! I CAN'T DO THIS...I NEED TO GET OFF THIS PLANE...NOW! *fiddles with seat belt* I'm gonna get right back on a plane when we get there and come back!") In any case, here is a lovely photo of me in Vancouver...please note that apparently I'm "Thinking Canada" as per the sign over my head (who names a store that anyway? Really Canada, really?)

Once we finally landed in Incheon, I was positive that getting on the bus to Jeonju was going to be the source of panic attack #8, but it actually went rather smoothly. Getting off the plane can only be referred to as irritating...and a bit painful. For some reason people were a bit pushy...maybe it was the sitting still for 11 hours, but it really was reminiscent of "line-up time" in grade school...just more disorderly). We chose to avoid cramming into the first high-speed train from the terminal to the baggage claim/customs/immigration (that's right everyone there was an actual high speed train running INSIDE the airport), and ended up riding over on the second with a rather large group of Korean war veterans from across the Commonwealth. Apparently they were having some sort of giant-type reunion and the Canadian military had sent several uniformed soldiers to pick them all up from the airport. It seemed kind of strange to me that they felt that it was necessary to guide the whole lot of them through the airport...I mean I'm sure they could all read just fine...and besides, it's hard to get lost when you're in a giant swarm of people all wearing similar green coats! Going through immigration was super quick (even more so than when I went to the UK...which now that I think of it might have had something to do with the pack of veterans we seemed to be part of), and we were steering our overloaded luggage carts through customs in no time!

Bryan wasn't entirely sure whether or not someone from our teaching placement company would be there to meet us at the airport, but when we got through customs, there was Mr.Kang with a little "Bryan and Sarah" sign. Until I saw him standing there, I was

pretty sure that this was the part of the journey where I'd start looking like a complete idiot as I tried to negotiate buying our tickets on the bus to Jeonju. Mr. Kang took charge though, even to the extent of helping us to push the overloaded luggage carts containing our multitude of "stuff", and 15 minutes later we bid him adieu and of we went.

We tried hard to stay awake, but even with our valiant efforts, after about 20 minutes on the bus, neither of us could manage to keep our eyes open and we both slept (with our heads awkwardly tilted to the front and side, and our mouths hanging open, as most people do on public transit...attractive!) The bus driver stopped once at a rest station and I'm pretty sure he said "be back in 20 minutes", but since neither of us could be sure how long the bus would be staying put, we decided it was the best plan to do so ourselves...

although I kind of did have to pee and the man across the aisle from us came back with these really delicious looking pancake thingies and the chick in front of us had some really delicious looking popsicle like thing that I'm pretty sure was coffee flavoured and that I'm probably going to have to hunt down as soon as I get up the courage to venture out on my own.

We both woke up as the bus came into Jeonju, and tried to figure out exactly where it was that we were supposed to get off. Panic attack #8 reared its ugly head when we got off the bus and couldn't find a cab big enough to take us and all of our items to the Jeonju Tourist Hotel where Bryan had made reservations. After about ten minutes of standing in the rain surrounded by our five giant bags, we decided that maybe it would be best to just stay put at the Core Hotel where the bus had dropped us off and set off to find the entrance. Even though neither of the front desk staff seemed to speak English very well, and Bryan can in no way speak Korean (yet?!), he somehow managed to communicate our need for a room and the two men helped us cart all of our junk up to the room. At this point I was definitely on the verge of tears, and so when they opened the door on two twin beds, I was in no condition to argue with them! Apparently they'd taken Bryan's request for a "double bed" a little differently than he'd intended it...