Now, gentle readers, apropos many requests, a few photos. There aren't any of the actual streets outside because I feel conspicuous enough without pulling out a camera. But I'll get over that eventually, I guess. 

People keep giving me random beverages at work, so I'm building up quite a collection. Ramen is good, and those cookie things are absolute rubbish unless you dip them in coffee. 

Mike: "If we can't read the warning labels, does that mean they're not bad for us?"

Warning: Don't fall down the elevator shaft. 

The shower, which is not as weird as it looks like it would be, other than soaking the toilet seat. 

Desk, at home.

Bed, close to the floor just like I like 'em. 

Everything I own is red and black. 

Tiny fridge. 

Out my kitchen window.



Ah. I don't want to be foreign today. A little tired of going into shops and having absolutely no idea what's going on. Everyone is so nice about it though. 

Mike asked me last night if I thought it was harder to be a foreign woman or man in S. Korea. I said, woman, without a doubt. He said he thought so too, but wanted my opinion. The thing is, all of the women at my work are really kind, but they are all married with kids and I don't have much in common with them. There is a group of younger men who seem to be more my speed, but they won't say a word to me. Even the lunch room is segregated -- men at one table, women at the other. And as far as either Mike or I know, I am the only woman in Incheon who smokes. And everyone is really, really, really confused that Mike and I are just friends. 

"You come with your boyfriend?"

"No. Friend." 


"Yes, he's my friend."

".... He? ...Friend?"



Mike said he has a younger male coworker who asked him to go out sometime, and so he'll ask him if he and some of his friends want to come out next weekend. I'm really not one for actively making friends, but I can't have regular contact with my friends in other places for a while, and I think it would help with the overall feeling of being out of place. A little. 



likethenina said...

It says that smoking is good for your health, unless you're too young or you're pregnant.
-_ -

cherry garcia said...

hooray for some photos.

all of that looks quite nice, kid. and very bright/clean.

although i'm not going to lie when i say i'm confused about the groceries and of course the shower...haha!

pity the cookies are crap.

anyway, keep the photos a-comin.


Gary said...

I spot Liverpool on your fridge,which is good. Less impressive are the contents. Lettuce and fucking tomatoes? They need shifting OUT to be replaced by a six-pack of Coke if you think I'm braving a fuck-knows-how-long flight to visit you. Also how about some fucking address details? I'm not into writing letters to myself. If I wanted to do that I'd go into fucking therapy. BOOM BOOM!


ross said...


good to see you made it. I tell everyone living abroad to wait 3 months before you judge anything! It takes that long to recognize if you've made yourself a "home" yet. So hang in there and see each day as a new experience! Looking forward to reading more...

I'm no Picasso said...

Wan - funny. That's perfect.

Stepho - confused is my new middle name. But I'm getting used to it.

G Man - I don't think you can fit too much coke in there. But it's alright. There's a shop up the road. And leave my tomatoes alone. They're fucking gorgeous. The address thing is complicated. Just like everything else. But I'll let you know soon. Oh. And you can't see it, but I've got pasta in my cabinet. You fucking love it. Almost as much as you love me.

Ross - Thank you. Yeah, they say three months is when culture shock hits the hardest and then after that you'll have some idea of what your actual situation is. For now I'm just trying not to take the extreme ups and downs too much to heart. But hey, this is what I'm here for. I hope you guys are doing well on the road. The machine gun festival looks amazing.

xxxx to all.