I MOVED TO ASIA...

And at the time it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I must say, there is no feeling like the one I got the night before the flight. It was the epitome of that sinking emptiness we get in our stomach when it feels like something is terribly wrong. And it stuck with me for three days. I COULD NOT believe what I had just done. You know, that whole packing-up-my-belongings, leaving-everything-that-has-ever-been-familiar, and moving-to-a-foreign-country-that-is-VERY-VERY-far-away-from-everyone-who-knows-and-loves-me thing. It was quite difficult to stomach for a little while.

But I’m doing MUCH better now that the culture shock has worn off. I’m slowly starting to pick up tidbits of the language. I can navigate the subway system like a champ. I’ve taken several taxis, all by my big-ol’-self. I’ve been into downtown Seoul, gone shopping for groceries at the market, gone longboarding daily along the Han River, almost finished moving into my apartment, and eaten four traditional Korean dishes.

Which brings me to my next point. I hate to break it to ya folks, but kimchi and I did NOT get off to a good start. Here’s the problem: my apartment was VERY dirty when I came on Friday night (It took me FOUR DAYS to clean it! Yes, that means I JUST finished cleaning this evening). Everything was pretty gross, but the worst BY FAR was the refrigerator. I had been given fair warning by my recruiters that new teachers often find the stench of rotten kimchi inside their fridge... but I never imagined how bad it could get.

THERE WAS MOLD COLONY IN MINE. A giant family of rotten kimchi mold, and it wasn’t just a little village occupying the top shelf—IT WAS A GIANT KIMCHI-MOLD CITY. ALL OVER MY FRIDGE.

And when I opened the door for the first time I almost passed out from the huge kimchi-mold gas cloud that burst out of the fridge and into my face. It’s like the mold knew I was coming. Like the mold-city secreted as much of the smell as possible as a weapon to LAUNCH into my nasal passage upon our initial contact in an effort to defer me from ever coming back to destroy them... and I gotta tell ya, it almost worked. I steered clear of the fridge for a good 8 hours before I mustered enough courage to grab my weapons—rubber glove, sponge, bleach—and venture back into the battlefield for our last encounter...

Fear not, I won the war against the kimchi-mold city. My refrigerator is bleachy clean and currently contains several varieties of fruit. However, despite the full function of my nasal passages, the kimchi-mold has left me traumatized and now I cannot seem to get along with edible kimchi. It’s actually not too bad, considering it is rotten, fermented cabbage swimming in Korea’s version of Tabasco sauce, but THE SAME SMELL that was in my fridge hits you during the aftertaste, after you’ve already swallowed...

I tried some kimchi on Saturday night while at a Korean BBQ restaurant with some gals. I was looking forward to it, and was presently surprised there wasn’t any projectile vomiting when I ate it.

Then the aftertaste hit.

Memories of the battle against the kimchi-mold city hit me so hard that the world stopped spinning for a few seconds until I could regain composure and come back to reality. I know you think I’m crazy. Just trying to be funny, maybe. That I’m exaggerating. Or that this is just a cute story to entertain the both of us.

But I wish I could explain the stench to you, because then you would understand everything.