When I landed in Korea, I couldn’t see anything until seconds before the wheels on the plane touched the tarmac, too dark and too foggy.
When I landed in Korea, a little man in a little van picked me up and drove me to my little 10×10 room.
When I landed in Korea, I saw dozens and dozens and dozens and dozens of cement colored apartments, all looking the same, all scattered in pockets between the mountains.
When I landed in Korea, I could say thank you and hello and yes and no in Korean, but that’s it.
I didn’t have an Internet connection, didn’t know anyone, and didn’t know what to do.
So why am I writing this now? I’m writing this now because with all the amazingness I’ve experienced since landing, I’m afraid I’ll forget how I felt when I first landed.
