Turn Your World Upside Down

Hello everyone! So my life has been quickly overturned by a recent turn of events that means I will have to move out of my homestay family. As you can imagine, this has been very difficult for me, because my homestay has been my #1 favorite thing about my experience thus far. However, I'm trying to stay positive, and know that even though I have to move, I will still remain the close connection that I have already built.

In order to explain my situation, I'd like to share a post made by the beautiful Julie Garner from  http://someday-on-the-avenue.blogspot.kr/. This is completely and 100% her work and her blog is wonderful (and much more updated than mine :P). You should check it out! I hope her post helps you to understand our situation.

Even If It Breaks Your Heart

Keep on dreamin', even if it breaks your heart.

Keep on dreamin'

Don't let it break your heart.

-Eli Young Band

I wrote this letter on Monday night. Although things have changed, and I am not going back home to America. The sentiments remain the same. My heart is broken and my feelings toward Korea and Hwacheon have been forever changed.

 Dear Hwacheon,

I have a few things to say before I go. Yes, I am going. Finally. This is what you always wanted though isn’t it? From starvation and dehydration to being forcibly removed by the South Korean military from my home. You threw everything you had at me, and I took it. I had a little help from my friends, but I know within my heart that I was strong. But now, I have come to realize that you are not worth it. I am going home for me, not for you. I am going home because I do not waste my already short life in a country that finds me repugnant. I do not want all those could-be glorious moments of happiness, crying my eyes out over being kicked down a million times. You are not worth it, Hwacheon. I am worth it, though.

You may see me walking down the street and think I am the bad-dressed foreigner with yellow hair. But my name is Julie. I am a teacher, and that is my life’s profession. I am also a world traveler. Korea makes it 22 on my life of countries I have visited. I came to Korea through Fulbright because I wanted to stay with a homestay. I wanted to add to my international family: I have 5 mom’s, 5 dad’s, and 14 brothers and sisters spanning around the world from Japan to America to France. I graduated university at the top of my class, summa cum laude with a 3.9 in Honors. I came to Korea to teach English and learn about this fascinating country. I am leaving Korea wondering why I came and why this country is unfriendly. I am leaving Korea knowing that the only people that have accommodating and kind to me in Korea had to suffer because of my existence.

I came to Korea to teach your children English and honestly, you have paid me in tears, vicious rumors, and harmful warnings to people that care about me.

This past weekend, I spent a glorious few days in Daejeon. I discovered what is sure to become my new favorite city in all of Korea, found out just how much my host family cares for me, and got to see one of favorite people in the world. Seriously, from the moment we left Hwacheon on Friday, I felt that already I was headed for what was sure to be ana amzing weekend. And sure enough it was.

Why is everything in the country too good to be true?

On Monday, I came into work for the first time in a week. Yes, I had all of last week off. Immediately, I was taken a back from the work that had piled on my desk, but more so by the secretive nature of my co-teachers. After several minutes of hearing Korean thrown back and forth with a mix of "Julie... Fulbright contract... Homestay," I finally worked up the courage to ask my co-teacher what was happening. One of my co-teachers shyed off and said she was not allowed to talk about it, while the other co-teacher asked me to see her in the hallway. Her English is not that great but she explained to me something along of the lines of the military stepping into our homestay situation. She said something about people complaining and how there is a problem in the current military complex, but that I should not worry about it or anything. What made me realize there was a seirous problem is when she told me not to inform the other ETA's because the Education office said we were not allowed to know. My co-teacher was breaking a promise even telling me.

Well, I never made any promises. I immediately messaged Gabrielle and Chelsea, as well as Andrew in the Fulbright office. Both Gabrielle and Chelsea  live in the same South Korean military complex that I live in with our host families. I thik at first they did not believe me, but Gabrielle promised to ask her co-teacher about it. Andrew did not know what I was talking about but promised to follow through. From there, the whole situation blew up.

Every time I would return to the teacher's room after teaching a class, new information would be given to me. After lunch, my co-teachers informed me that my worst nightmare had indeed come true: the South Korean military had formally evicted us from the apartments.

My first thought went to my host family as it has been for the month. I am not sure that I have conveyed this as much as I should, but I absolutely adore my host family. This is the first situation where neither party can speak the other language. In France, I loved my host mom, Leonie, but she was fluent in English. Captain Jack in Japan has enough English to form that initial bond. Eunsong Yang (yes- I finally figured out her name in Daejeon) does not speak a word English, neither do the Seo kids. Yet, there is some serious love between me and that family. I am reminded yet again that often the importance of family and friends transcends language barriers.

At 5, a meeting was arranged between the military, the education office, and our homestay families. Until then, I spent time I the teacher room crying my eyes out as new information trickled in. It came from a call from the Fulbright office as well as my limited understanding of Korean in the teacher's room:

• Some families in the military complex had complained about the foreign teachers. Although I thought that they would complain because of having Americans living in the complex, it was not the case. Instead, the complained out of jealousy. They thought it was unfair that our families were making "a lot of extra money" to take us in, our families were getting free English tutoring, and, in the case of Chelsea and my family, they were getting free babysitting. In fact some families said that they complained "out of the kindness of their hearts" because they worried about us.
• The military has some rule in their files that says that military housing is only for blood relatives, and so even though this rule is NEVER EVER enforced EVER, there was a way for us to be kicked out.
• Enough families complained that the military finally did something about it. They sent eviction letters to the county office, our home stay families, and our schools warning that if we were not out of these buildings by the end of the month, our host families would be kicked out.
• The county tried to fight the rule. It ended with a threat from the South Korean military that funding in the area would be pulled. 
• The case was considered closed even before it was opened for discussion.

After several frantic text messages to Gabrielle and Chelsea, two classes that I taught on the verge of tears, Fulbright finally called me. The thing I wanted to hear for the past two months came straight from the coordinators mouth: We support you 120% and if you want to go home, we support your decision. From the moment my co-teacher told me I had no choice but to leave my apartment and my precious homestay, my heart booked a plane ticket home and readied the passport. How could people be so cruel? Why is my luck so terrible? Why does it feel like my life is spinning out of control, yet again? WHY?

The worst was yet to come.

I trudged to the Hwacheon Elementary School, where Gabrielle and Chelsea waited for me. We all instantly embraced each other and all agreed that what we were most scared about was seeing our host mothers. On my walk to the school I sent a message to my host mom apoligizing for this fiasco and her responce made me burst into tears. "No, Julie, you never be sorry. It is we. We sorry. We sorry as Koreans. Korea is sorry." I did not even make it through the threshold of the county building, when I burst into tears. We had all said that we were going to remain as we are: Gabrielle, the strong energetic faith-based ball of energy that believes everything is part of God's plan. Chelsea, the eternal optimist and loveable girl that always knows how to make you feel better. And me, the comic relief with a strong sense of dignity and a stubborn attitude, more or less the backbone of our group. I was the first to crack, followed in suite by Chelsea and Gabrielle.

The county officials brought us into this incredibly intimidating room and seated us with an interpretor. From the moment we walked in the room, I was hysterical. When my host mother walked in, I hid my face in my hands. I did not want her to see me. The host mother's were seated across us with several representatives from the military.

The details are a little hazy because I was so hysterical and the interpetor could not interprate all that happened that quickly. The military officer laid down our eviction papers and said that we would be out of the apartments by October 31st. The fool made the mistake of saying, "Only intimate family members of the military can live in these apartments."

Chelsea's host mother took this opportunity to scream, "these girls are our family!" This comment started a whirlwind of back and forth banter between our host mother's and this slightly terrifying military officer. The three of us sat quietly listening, taking the occasion opportunity to hug each other and/ or sniffle loudly.

The officer explained that there is a rule that military families are not allowed to receive additional income from any sources. They receive $500 a month to house us. Chelsea's host mom was the first to angrily shout, "Then don't pay us!" And all of our host mom's quickly agreed with her.

The officer then said that it was unfair to the other families that they got the opportunity to get free English tutoring, a check every month, and free babysitting. My host mother was the first to say that I have never given free English tutoring, they have never asked, and frankly, don't want free English tutoring. Yes, I do some babysitting but that is because I absolutely love the kids and they love me. It is not really babysititng when I am playing with the kids and having a fun time. It is not babysitting when I am bonding with the only people in the damn country that have actually shown a little bit of care for me! And as far as free English lessons go, the only thing I have taught those kids is how to have a thumb war, a tickle fights, and to say, "good-bye, see you later." The officer said nothing other than, "Well the families that complained said they did not think it was fair and some of them felt they were doing this [complaining] out of the kindness of their hearts." When this last part was explained to us later, it was Gabrielle who almost went off the deep end in anger.

What ended breaking everyone's heart was when Chelsea's mom asked if we could spend winter break with our families.  It was a question of much interest for me, because I was absolutely the most excited about spending the month of January with my host family. The Hwacheon Winter Festival will be going on and I do not have work the entire month (I am traveling in February.) The officer said, in what I interpreted to be the most condescending thing ever, as "Absolutely not. They can not spend the night. They are not supposed to be at the apartments at all."

The banter continued, while I just sobbed. I will not pretend I was not a mess. Gabrielle took this opportunity to say that the point of the Fulbright was program was to bring American ambassadors and goodwill to areas of the world. And, good job South Korean military! She also mentioned how terrible this was going to look when she and Chelsea were homeless, and I was on a plane headed home.

Hold the phone.

Everyone turned to look at me at this point. "You're going home?" the interpretor stuttered.

Holding back tears, I said, "Why should I stay? Give me one good reason. This town hates me. Hates us. I come to Korea to teach English and I have been treated like garbage from Day 1." After the interpretor translated, I added, "And let me say this. There are only a few people in this town that have been nice to me. There are only 3 families that have treated us like humans and have shown us any sense of care." I pointed to the three host mom's, and said, "This town is the most unwelcoming place I have ever been except for those 3 families, and now you're telling the three of us we are not welcome anymore."

My quote silenced everyone. It made Chelsea squeeze my hand. It made my host mom tear up. It made Chelsea's host mom nod furiously while tears fell from her eyes. It made the military office look uncomfortable and for a brief fleeting second sympathetic, which was a nice change from his rude condescending look earlier.

We ended the meeting there. The military closing it down by saying that if anyone continued to fight they would be punished. The three of us were in a hug as soon as we could find the strength to stand up. Our host mom's found a corner to discuss things in. The next thing we knew, we were headed back to the apartment buildings that we were being evicted from. Chelsea's host mom wanted to get us pizza and make sure all of us talked things through and calmed down.

After what ended up being a wonderful "host mom, host daughter" dinner, my host mom and I walked back to the apartment. She told that she did not plan to tell the kids until things were more final. I mean, they were final in the sense that I was leaving, but since I was screaming about how I wanted to go home, she wanted to wait for things to be more final. When I got back to my room, I called my Dad at home. As I expected, he insistently declared it was time for me to come home.

So there you have it, Hwacheon: a play-by-play of Monday's events. Are you happy? I really do think this is what you have always wanted from the moment I got here.

You. Are. Not. Worth. This.