Time to face the strange....

No idea how to use the buckets...

I knew that when I moved to Korea, I'd have some pretty big cultural differences to overcome.  I came here fully understanding that some things would just be different than what I was used to back home.  I had been warned of a few of these things and some of them took me totally by surprise.  One example is that there is no basin for my shower area.  The only time that I've seen this type of set up is in a mass public shower inside a gym or campground.  Basically means you have to bring two towels to shower... one for you and one for the entire floor.  I can live with that.  Other differences have not been as easy.

  

Where the magic happens!!

I think the most painful has been the style of the Korean bed.  The best way for me to convey what a Korean bed feels like is to have you start by removing the mattress from your current bed. 
Now put a large, cushion-less heating pad over your box springs, a thin sheet and you have a Korean bed.  So, it basically feels like a set of box springs with no mattress.  I believe the floor would be more comfortable.  But considering I don't have enough floor space to actually lie down, I can't really be sure.

Working on the construction of yet another Korean bed

That brings me to Major Cultural Difference Number Two.  My room makes my dorm room from Boomer III look immaculate.  I'm currently living in a studio apartment that is smaller than the bathroom in some homes.  I have an armoire-style closet, a small oven top (no stove), a sink and a bathroom with shower.  I also have a washing machine for clothes, but nowhere to hang them to dry.  (Notice the random wet clothes hanging throughout my room?)  And, of course, I also have the aforementioned twin-sized bed.  Unfortunately, this means that I don't really have room for an actual chair (forget a couch).  The apartment did come with a small desk that I equate to the one I used in Mrs. Karcher's 2nd grade class.... minus the gum.  I think the small wooden chair is closer to the one from 5th or 6th grade, though.  Unfortunately, this leaves that damnable bed as the only real lounging area in the apartment.  My back is twisted in more knots than I can count.  I keep hoping that its hurting in the same way that my hamstring hurt after that first drunken night of Wii bowling... like a muscle that doesn't get used enough.  I'm not really holding my breath on this hope, though.

One huge aspect of teaching English in Korea is the agreement that the employer will pay for the apartment of native speakers.  It's in all of the contracts.  Perhaps the worst part of this particular situation: this is an apartment that my boss built onto his home specifically for the native teacher in his school.  I am the first to live here and everything is brand new.  To complain would be a direct insult to him.  This is a Confucian society; complaining is a lot more tricky than it is back home.  To make matters worse, you can see in his eyes that he's very proud of his decision to add this on to his home.  I'm sure it was a huge investment up front that he figures to make back in saved rent payments over several years.  Creates a bit of a conundrum for me as both a tenant and an employee.

No TV, no books, a spotty internet signal, and no other form of entertainment keeps me bored to tears if I stay in the room for too long.  If I have nothing loaded up media-wise on my laptop, I'll go to one of the many Wifi hotspots around the city and leech a few torrents or dl a podcast or two.  At that point, I'll go home to fill in some of the boredom with some good old fashion stolen entertainment.  That's when I realize that, because my walls are made up of little more than papier-mâché, I can hear every conversation that my next door neighbors have with each other.  (I've thought I had thin walls in previous homes; turns out I just had loud neighbors.  Now, I can honestly hear the sizzle from the skillet when the neighbors make a meal.)  So, at this point, I just self-consciously don my earphones, lay back on the slab of concrete called a bed and catch up on all the shitty American TV that I've missed in the last few years.

No, that's not my fridge

Or I drink.  And, luckily, there's plenty to drink.....