Finally Off the Boat

So I spent the last ten days in an amazing padded room of cultural squishiness--plenty of english with a sprinkle of korean. Schedule, food, comfort. Easy peasy. And apparently a few didn't even make it past the orientation before freaking out. They haven't come close to culture shock. But the past week where EPIK eased us into this place has been amazing. So many different, like-minded adventures, converging in one point. And then, in less than a day, they spat us out all over South Korea (puked is more like it, after all the soju). Talk about epic.
Well, as our quickly established bonds are being tested and stretched, we rush to make every possible connection(thank you facebook) and lock down everyone's location for future floors to crash (and how warm and cozy they are here).

Even though I don't allow myself disappointment, I was, I admit, giving into some doubts about this city in the middle of the mountains (goodbye, hopes of coast) that was only being described to me as "oh, there are many factories" (goodbye, hopes of nature).
We said our goodbyes, crammed onto a crunchy bus ride until we all met again at a rest stop. We said more epic goodbyes and headed for Gumi (the city I was destined for). We drove through the city that was looming dirtier and busier than ever, then suddenly cut over a dam to a lake in the mountains, little swan boats smiling at me. Bam. I was relieved that this, at least would be outside the city from me.
We eat our last bit of bibimbap in a traditional little mountain restaurant (that for some reason has a giant Kint Tut on the outside of it; still not getting the significance) and then, goodbyes again, load back onto the buses. Drive about 10feet and stop in a parking lot full of very scared looking Koreans waiting for us, names on signs (some, like mine, spelled wrong, some even upside down). Now we have arrived.

As if to reinforce our week's lesson, (Korea is dynamic) it is chaos. Where is the truck with our luggage, where is our coteacher, where are we going? My coteacher, June, a short spunky Korean woman was standing with Hank, another Korean teacher, much taller, under an umbrella. They met me, pointed across the parking lot (mountains, trees, lake, still in view) and said, "there is your school." Hot damn I about hugged her till her eyes burst, but remembering all lessons of social customs, bowed slightly, gave my best kamsahamida (still not sure about the romanization) and went about the business of getting my luggage.
Well, also remembering all of the emphasis on the importantance of first impressions in our training, I was mortified when they drove me over, freshly crumpled from the bus ride and an epic night of soju, to meet the Vice Principal. It went alright, I guess. hope. I met the rest of the English department, including Cara (the girl I'm replacing) and Woody (my savior and guide).
These first few introductions have me more excited by the minute. The highschool I was dreading is apparently the best possible placement. I am teaching with Woody, an American who's been there a year already. It's a foreign language high school (described here as geniuses), and it is very relaxed (in dress code, too, woot woot!) I went to a traditional Korean meal with June, Maryanne and Woody in a shack on the floor. We laugh easy.
I'm in a small, cozy-with-character apartment. It is loaded with stuff leftover from Cara and teachers-past (including 4 hair driers; no idea what I'm supposed to do with those). There is a close-knit Waego (foreigner) presence I have already been introduced to.
Last night we made it to the Waego bar. I played the hammer game (going around driving nails in with the wrong side of the hammer) and came out on top--shots shots shots for South Korea. It's going to be good.