Sometimes, I truly believe the best way for someone to overcome fears and anxiety is by simply tossing yourself straight into them. As my best friend put it, “It’s just straight up shock therapy.” Once you realize what is going on around you, comfort zones expand at a rapid pace and you’ll find yourself acing situations you had nightmares about. Of course, this isn’t the case for everything–and you can trust your gut to tell you whether or not it is–but wouldn’t you rather live a life full of stories to tell and lessons learned than a life full of regret because of missed opportunities?
When I first began my study abroad process with TEAN and my home university, I wanted to pull out several times. First, I hid behind the excuse of the cost, but once that was taken care of, I realized it was my own mind holding me back. My own thoughts running at a million miles per minute, thinking of every embarrassing situation possible while abroad, you name it. Upon the realization, it felt like I was grieving for a loved one’s death that hasn’t happened, like I was preparing for a presentation that I was never assigned. Why am I worrying about what could happen when I don’t even know what’s out there? I’d never left the U.S. before now and who knew what I would find halfway across the world. Anything I imagined wouldn’t become reality, simply based on the fact that this is my first experience putting myself out there in the world. So, I pushed away the overthinking and got on that plane. And it’s nowhere near as terrifying as I led myself to believe.
Getting Up
No one from my home university came with me to Seoul, so when I touched down and got with the TEAN group at the airport, I knew absolutely no one. Everyone else looked like they had already made friends and were chatting away with each other, and there I was, standing awkwardly with my large suitcases and backpack. One of my suitcases was unbalanced and kept falling over, which did not help with how I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb among the others. Itching to get away for a moment, I went to the convenience store at the airport: a very convenient indeed GS25 loaded with fun new snacks and drinks. It was fun exploring all the aisles and seeing every product on the shelves. It sounds mundane, but I seriously implore anyone who takes a trip to South Korea to visit the convenience stores. They’re at almost every corner and are essential to the busy goers like students. Once I bought a water, we loaded the shuttle bus from the airport and headed off to the dorms. Everything was fine and dandy until I remembered that I did not bring any body wash with me. I needed to make a run to the nearest drugstore, and quickly. The jet lag was setting in and all I wanted to do was take a shower and sleep. I put the destination, the nearest Olive Young, into Naver Maps and headed off.
On my way out of the dormitory, some people from TEAN that were also in Seoul announced that they were going out to get dinner along with stopping at Daiso and Olive Young, and invited anyone to come with them. I ignored it initially–I had places to be, and that place was my bed with my eyes closed. But then it hit me: I was in another country I’d never been to before, and I should be seeing what’s out there. FOMO hits hard when you’re studying abroad–you’ll learn that quickly. Pushing aside the hesitation, I went with the group. And wouldn’t you know it, I had an amazing time.
Within that group, I made my first friends while being here–friends I would not have made otherwise. We stopped for dinner at a place called 인생 설렁탕 (insaeng seolleongtang) where they served ox bone soup as their main dish, along with other Korean soups and dishes. We ended up ordering five servings of dumplings to split between the ten of us, and the waitress was quite confused to see a huge group of foreigners all ordering the same thing. I was the only one that spoke Korean among us, so I was the designated spokesperson for the night, and it was rough. Although I had been learning Korean for years at this point, it was my first time conversing with a stranger that was a native speaker, and my mind completely blanked. Dun dun dun, the overthinking from before the trip came true. None of the right words came out of my mouth, and surely I ended up sounding like a 2-year-old trying to order food. Those million-miles-a-minute thoughts came back.
But the waitress understood. I stumbled over my words trying to explain that we weren’t that hungry, so we were going to split the dumplings and share them with the person next to us. Once she confirmed that yes, we were going to pay for five servings of dumplings, she got right on it, and the nightmare was over. That was it. She wasn’t mean or condescending; she was just trying to make sure that this is what we were really ordering. After all, we were an odd group with an odd order. This is a lesson, I made sure to remind myself. It’ll get better with time and experience. The lights on the busy street seemed to shine just a little brighter after the realization.
And as it turns out, the dumplings were delicious. They were steamed northern-style dumplings with a little bit of a kick to them, filled with tofu, rice noodles, and various vegetables. I highly recommend trying these if you ever find yourself in Korea.
However, conversing with cashiers has proven to be an ongoing issue, even as I get better at Korean. We went to Olive Young, and when I messed up trying to ask for a bag, she started responding to me in perfect English. In later days, I would come back to Olive Young and converse with other cashiers that gave me dirty stares for asking them to speak slower. At the self-checkout at Daiso, the employee only knew Korean and figured I didn’t speak Korean, so she just took my card out of my hands to insert it for me before switching the machine to English. When ordering bubble tea at Amasvin, the cashier spoke English to me when I spoke to her in Korean, seemingly unaware that I was speaking Korean. This became my next roadblock, and it drove me to the self-checkout kiosks and away from dine-in restaurants. I could feel myself reverting back to the fearful mindset from pre-departure. It was like my world was only what I saw right in front of me, too scared to think of anything else beyond.
My first weekend here after classes started, I barely left the dorm even when I didn’t have any convenience store meals left to eat. Everything was so hard here. I made mistakes in everything I did, from trying to communicate to putting an un-cracked egg in my boiling ramen to cook (I don’t even know what I was thinking there). On top of that, homesickness was hitting hard, and everyone else was off doing other things while I stayed locked indoors. It was miserable really, moping around and wallowing in fear. It felt like I would never do anything right, so why should I even try?
Getting Out There
Okay, the first attempt at getting up didn’t end up the way my ambitious mind pictured it, considering how pathetic I felt that weekend. Momentum never stays forever, and if you’re a sensitive person like me that feels big emotions, it can disappear at the drop of a hat. My mind shut down and it felt like there wasn’t even a sliver of light at the end of the tunnel for being here. It sounds dramatic, but really, that is what I wrote in my journal for that day.
But situations like these are what make you realize that you are the only one in charge of how your life looks. Once I got out of the dorm for Monday’s classes and away from the bottomless pit of self-pity that was my dorm room, the sunshine brightened up my thoughts enough to make me realize that things would be okay. Nothing had changed, and the Earth still turned, even though I had some embarrassing moments with a couple cashiers. The rain came and went, figuratively and literally (the summer rainy season is nothing to joke about here), but I was the one in charge of the downpour. I could choose to drown in negative thoughts and anxieties, or I could at least try to make it better for myself. No one else was going to do it but me. Like earlier, each mistake is a lesson to be learned. And in a completely different country, everyone is bound to be making mistakes.
After that, life got easier again, and I made sure to go outside every day, even if just for a quick walk to the nearest convenience store. I did some things I never thought I’d get to do–like meeting a friend from the internet! My friend Jay is a South Korean native who I met on a messaging site almost four years ago, and we had been inseparable ever since. Of course, if you’re going to do this, take every caution possible–there are bad people out there!
Next, during a TEAN activity, the students went to Lotte World Mall and we got to stop by the Studio Ghibli Store and go to Seoul Sky Tower.
Seoul Sky Tower was packed full of TEAN students, tourists, and Koreans alike. They take you on an elevator ride that takes about a minute, and as you go up the 123 floors, your ears pop a couple times! At the top of the elevator is an observation desk, complete with gift shops and cafes. The view from the windows is truly breathtaking, and I couldn’t stop saying “wow” as I looked over all of Seoul.
As you can see, I would have missed out on all of these if I shut myself away from the world. And my journey here has just started. Classes just began and even as I’m writing this, I feel like I’m just now beginning to settle into a familiar routine and environment. ‘Nothing worth doing will ever be easy’ is a hard lesson to learn. I never truly understood it until I experienced it firsthand, and I know I’m not alone in that. We are all still learning from our experiences, getting better every day, and the best way to do so is to challenge yourself. Even if that is just getting out of bed in the morning. Cliché life lessons are the worst, I know, but they’re life lessons for a reason. Go get yourself out there, and you’ll soon learn that although the world can be harsh and life can be difficult, you are the only one that can make a difference for yourself.
Grey Hampsmire, University of Iowa, is studying abroad in South Korea with TEAN.
