Current status of me (Back in the US, back in the US, back in the USSA!)
It's been a while since I wrote after I mentioned that I was going to be leaving South Korea. Things were really bad, and I wasn't going to continue going down that path anymore. At some point, you have to step up and do something about things, or you have no excuse to complain. I took my own advice, and I'm home now.
I thought I'd take a few moments to talk about the journey back. As I was getting ready to go home (the day before), my old boss tried contacting me by cell phone, telling me that I can't leave because the new boss will eventually pay me. Eventually. Kind of like he was going to eventually pay me. Even though he never did. I said, okay, and continued my preparations for going back to the USA.
The night before leaving, I was in the Seoul Incheon Airport, and I purchased a private room in the sauna they have in the basement of the airport. My plan was to get some sleep for the night before leaving in the morning. Unfortunately, my spidey senses were activated all night, and it was hard to get any sleep. Plus, the place was noisier than I thought it would be, and the room across from me kept turning the lights on and off, which kept waking me up from any potential slumber. So, I didn't get any sleep. But oh well.
The next day, I flew out of Seoul to Beijing. It was a pretty short flight. I had a four hour layover in Beijing, which was a good thing because my arrival started a drama that appeared like it was never going to end. I take medication, and for some reason that medication activated the "drug dealer" sensors on the Chinese drug detection equipment. So, I was escorted to another room where they kept running my bags of medication (Koreans put your medication in daily bags for your "convenience" rather than put the stuff in bottles like in the states). So, they kept running this slip of paper over my bags and then running it into the detection machine, and each time this big yellow light would go off, with a big, fun buzzer that indicated that I was definitely a Colombian drug lord trying to sneak through China for some drug deal in Vietnam or wherever it is Colombian drug lords do business these days (I stopped reading the memos from Colombian Drug Lord Headquarters some time ago). So, the interrogation continued. So after a couple of hours of waterboarding, they realized why I wasn't revealing what I knew: I didn't understand Chinese. Yeah, no one spoke English, nor Spanish, nor German, nor Japanese, nor Korean, so I was limited to making hand puppets and trying to convince them that my little pinky was a drug-free shadow representation. After a while of this, I started going through the chain of command of Chinese interrogation officials. In the beginning, I dealt with some guys that were obviously way low on the chain of command, because they had very little bit of information on their epaulets. Then each new person had more stuff on his or hers. Finally, I think I was dealing with the General of the Chinese Army, because everyone else in the place seemed to think he was the most important person who ever lived. As all of my stuff was laid out on his assistant's desk, I decided I was going to take a new tactic in this drama: I was going to make his assistant my very best friend. So I started talking to him, saying all sorts of friendly things. I looked up at the room to realize how unique the architecture was, and I indicated that I had never seen anything like it before. He took great pleasure in trying to tell me in broken English how the building was constructed, and that it was one in three great buildings. For the record, it was actually pretty impressive. And during our half hour conversation, he finally asked me what I did for a living. So I said I was a teacher, and I made a gesture to show that I taught little kids. He smiled and then went back to his paperwork. When the big boss came back in, the assistant turned to him and started speaking to him in rapid Chinese (I assume it was Chinese, although for the record it could have been Klingon and I wouldn't have known the difference). It was quite an animated conversation. Then I saw my new friend make the same gesture I did to show that I taught little kids. The big boss stopped talking for a second, turned and looked at me and then said, "You are through here. Thank you. Go to your flight." And then I was released into the waiting area for the next two hours to wait for my flight to San Francisco.
The flight back was pretty uneventful. I sat next to a Chinese woman who was immigrating to the United States. She asked me whether she should choose to live in San Francisco, Los Angeles, or New Jersey. Yeah, New Jersey. I thought about her options. Los Angeles, even though it's where I grew up, existed in my memory because during the Rodney King riots the African-American population targeted the Korean-American population to kill them. I thought that's probably not where they should go. As for New Jersey...the only thing I knew about New Jersey was that was where Tony Soprano and his gang worked. So, I didn't think that was a good idea. I love San Francisco, and I think it is one of those places where everyone can fit in, no matter how hard you try not to. So I said there. She seemed to be leaning towards Los Angeles, but I gave my two cents.
Since being back, I've been looking for both a place to stay and a job. Neither is secured yet. I'm foolishly spending money I don't have to spend, but I'm home, and that is a true sign of being a real American, isn't it?
Stumble It!
I thought I'd take a few moments to talk about the journey back. As I was getting ready to go home (the day before), my old boss tried contacting me by cell phone, telling me that I can't leave because the new boss will eventually pay me. Eventually. Kind of like he was going to eventually pay me. Even though he never did. I said, okay, and continued my preparations for going back to the USA.
The night before leaving, I was in the Seoul Incheon Airport, and I purchased a private room in the sauna they have in the basement of the airport. My plan was to get some sleep for the night before leaving in the morning. Unfortunately, my spidey senses were activated all night, and it was hard to get any sleep. Plus, the place was noisier than I thought it would be, and the room across from me kept turning the lights on and off, which kept waking me up from any potential slumber. So, I didn't get any sleep. But oh well.
The next day, I flew out of Seoul to Beijing. It was a pretty short flight. I had a four hour layover in Beijing, which was a good thing because my arrival started a drama that appeared like it was never going to end. I take medication, and for some reason that medication activated the "drug dealer" sensors on the Chinese drug detection equipment. So, I was escorted to another room where they kept running my bags of medication (Koreans put your medication in daily bags for your "convenience" rather than put the stuff in bottles like in the states). So, they kept running this slip of paper over my bags and then running it into the detection machine, and each time this big yellow light would go off, with a big, fun buzzer that indicated that I was definitely a Colombian drug lord trying to sneak through China for some drug deal in Vietnam or wherever it is Colombian drug lords do business these days (I stopped reading the memos from Colombian Drug Lord Headquarters some time ago). So, the interrogation continued. So after a couple of hours of waterboarding, they realized why I wasn't revealing what I knew: I didn't understand Chinese. Yeah, no one spoke English, nor Spanish, nor German, nor Japanese, nor Korean, so I was limited to making hand puppets and trying to convince them that my little pinky was a drug-free shadow representation. After a while of this, I started going through the chain of command of Chinese interrogation officials. In the beginning, I dealt with some guys that were obviously way low on the chain of command, because they had very little bit of information on their epaulets. Then each new person had more stuff on his or hers. Finally, I think I was dealing with the General of the Chinese Army, because everyone else in the place seemed to think he was the most important person who ever lived. As all of my stuff was laid out on his assistant's desk, I decided I was going to take a new tactic in this drama: I was going to make his assistant my very best friend. So I started talking to him, saying all sorts of friendly things. I looked up at the room to realize how unique the architecture was, and I indicated that I had never seen anything like it before. He took great pleasure in trying to tell me in broken English how the building was constructed, and that it was one in three great buildings. For the record, it was actually pretty impressive. And during our half hour conversation, he finally asked me what I did for a living. So I said I was a teacher, and I made a gesture to show that I taught little kids. He smiled and then went back to his paperwork. When the big boss came back in, the assistant turned to him and started speaking to him in rapid Chinese (I assume it was Chinese, although for the record it could have been Klingon and I wouldn't have known the difference). It was quite an animated conversation. Then I saw my new friend make the same gesture I did to show that I taught little kids. The big boss stopped talking for a second, turned and looked at me and then said, "You are through here. Thank you. Go to your flight." And then I was released into the waiting area for the next two hours to wait for my flight to San Francisco.
The flight back was pretty uneventful. I sat next to a Chinese woman who was immigrating to the United States. She asked me whether she should choose to live in San Francisco, Los Angeles, or New Jersey. Yeah, New Jersey. I thought about her options. Los Angeles, even though it's where I grew up, existed in my memory because during the Rodney King riots the African-American population targeted the Korean-American population to kill them. I thought that's probably not where they should go. As for New Jersey...the only thing I knew about New Jersey was that was where Tony Soprano and his gang worked. So, I didn't think that was a good idea. I love San Francisco, and I think it is one of those places where everyone can fit in, no matter how hard you try not to. So I said there. She seemed to be leaning towards Los Angeles, but I gave my two cents.
Since being back, I've been looking for both a place to stay and a job. Neither is secured yet. I'm foolishly spending money I don't have to spend, but I'm home, and that is a true sign of being a real American, isn't it?
Labels: Korea
Stumble It!
posted by Duane @ 7:03 PM
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