Well it happened. It finally happened. After four years in Virginia (See blog post from June 2016), The Lord released me back into the air, and here I am, sitting on my Queen-ish size bed overlooking a sun closet, overlooking my new campus in Jeju, South Korea, where I am quarantined for the next 13 days.

I arrived at Seoul International Airport around 6:00 pm and had to get to Gimpo Airport in time for my 9:00 pm flight to Jeju. Flights are rare and expensive from Seoul to Jeju, so it takes a road trip to get to the other airport. It is a 40 minute ride. The process was just what you would expect as an international arrival during a pandemic. Lines. Paperwork. Lines. Paperwork. Masks. Sweat. No social distancing. None. Did I mention the paperwork? I filled out so many forms that I almost memorized my Korean address. Almost. 

I showed person after person my documents, one of which was on my phone because I forgot to print it, to help them understand that I really am permitted to self-quarantine in the residence I really do have on Korean soil. You see, short term visitors are required to complete their 14 day quarantine in a government facility. Most blonds don’t have a residence in Korea and aren’t long-term residents. They seemed to get it when I showed them my visa for special professionals with a stay of two years… the second or third time I showed it to them. They were confused though because I couldn’t present a residency card. Residency cards are issued after 30 days of residency.

It started at Dulles International Airport, where I had to promise the check-in staff that I really was supposed to self-quarantine and that I really did have a residence there. They made me sign a notice that I would be required to quarantine at a government facility anyway at my own cost ($100.00 per day) for 14 days but assured me that it would be ripped up once I got to Korea and presented my documents there. It was the first of many Korean documents I signed along the way that I couldn’t read.

Once I checked my luggage and it started moving up the conveyor belt, I noticed what looked like my mom’s black e-cigarette stuck to one of my bags (There were lots of straps and tape on that bag). The lady checked it and said it was part of the bag. I had just borrowed the bag from my nephew. I seem to remember this wilderness backpack having a drinking device, so I figured that was the straw end. Problem solved. On it went.

I had my first experience with TSA precheck. I didn’t even see a non TSA line. Or a line. I guess not many people are flying these days. I wonder why. 

I kept my shoes on. I didn’t remove my electronics or liquids, and the TSA staff made small talk with me along the way rather than grilling me about why I was traveling abroad — as is customary. They simply asked if I worked for the state department. Next time, I’ll give them a better answer other than “No, I’m an international teacher.” I’ll wink at them and say, “I just can’t tell you… it’s safer that way.” Why don’t I think of these things sooner?

Now to find my gate. It helped that the entire airline staff for my plane was in front of me the whole time.

I stopped at the Hudson shop to purchase a few bottles of water for the journey ahead… then I saw the candy and the lady said it was buy two get one free. Who needs three 26 ounce bags of candy? No, thank you. Then I remembered my fate. 14.5 hour flight. Followed by 14 days in self isolation. Naturally, I got four bags of candy and two large bottles of water. Gummy Bears and every kind of M&M.

While boarding, I noticed how wonderfully spread out everyone was. There was one person for every three seats, so EVERYONE got to lay out at will and sleep during the flight unless they were unfortunate enough to book a block of seats for a family. If you’ve ever flown international economy class, you know this is the dream situation! I never used to get swollen ankles when I flew, that is except for the few times I sat in my seat without getting up for the entire 15 or so hour flight to China (I was young and stupid!). Now, I can’t drive more than an hour without getting swollen ankles. 35 is very different 26, which is the difference between my first flight to China and my first flight to Korea. My ankles did swell a bit, but I was able to stretch out so much that I don’t remember my ankles being swollen when I got off the plane. I had a severe pain in my outer thigh though and worried about a blood clot the whole time since I have done a lot of driving lately, but when I looked in the mirror later, I saw a giant bruise. What a relief. Just another visible sign of my clumsiness. Or my Vitamin D deficiency. Or my Fibromyalgia. (Yes, I get some visible bruising. No, it’s not textbook. Yes, it’s been checked. Yes, they ARE clueless.)

Onward. 

Reread paragraph 2 for the lines. The sweat. The paperwork. The masks. The lack of social distancing. The lines. I never did see anyone rip up the original paperwork, but I did get self-quarantine letters (yes, plural) with an official looking red stamp on them.

Once I got through passport control, baggage claim, and customs, I exited the restricted part of the airport and entered the lobby where I stood dumbfounded, waiting for someone with a badge to shuffle me off somewhere. There is a sense of security for me in being obviously foreign. I showed them my paperwork. Again they were confused by my not having a residency card, but after I showed them my residency certification letter and stamped self-quarantine documents from the previous five lines, they directed me to a waiting area for a government van to drive me to Gimpo Airport. Along the way, a man asked me where my lanyard was. I remember reading a blog about international arrivals in Korea being given color-coded lanyards to quickly identify those who were to be led to a government facility. I told him I was a resident and going to Jeju via Gimpo Airport. He hesitantly backed off. I’d worked very hard to sound confident. 

I entered the semi-quarantined area and waited for the government quarantine van to take me to the next airport. The police officer let me out of quarantine to change money on the other side of the lobby. My luggage stayed, and this did not make me nervous or uncomfortable in any way. I ended up riding with another teacher from my school who had just returned from her summer in the states. We finally pulled out of the airport at 7:53 PM. My next flight was scheduled for 9:00 PM. I wasn’t sure if I would make it, and I since I didn’t have time to get a Korean SIM card because of my close connection, I used the WIFI signal as long as I could to keep my HR person informed. She said it would be a very difficult situation if I missed my flight and asked me if I had a lot of luggage to check. I couldn’t reply though because I lost my WIFI signal after the van pulled off. About ten minutes later, the driver pulled into another terminal and talked to us for about 10 minutes in Korean. A nice older Korean woman told us he wanted us to stop talking so we wouldn’t spread the virus. The rest of the 40 minute trip was mostly silent. 

When we got to the airport at 8:30 PM, it was the easiest check in EVER. Almost. I had to recheck my luggage and let them know I already paid for my extra bag at Dulles. I stood there for several minutes and was then asked to go through a set of restricted doors. That’s an odd way to the gate, I thought. I walked into a bleak room with a long conveyor belt and they asked to inspect my luggage. Nope. This was not the way to the gate. They asked if I had an e-cigarette. “No… I don’t smoke.” The lady pointed to the very item that I thought was an e-cigarette nearly 20 hours prior at Dulles. And so it was. My mom’s e-cigarette really had been stuck to my bag and made it through an international flight and two airports before being found. I was worried because there is quite a list of restricted items in Korea. Could I go to prison for this, I wondered. Yes, I actually wondered. She quickly answered my unspoken question by handing it to me and telling me I needed to carry it. “Oh. I don’t want it. Wait, I can just carry it? Okay. Thank you.” And off I went to the real gate. Explains why TSA searched my luggage in DC… but apparently couldn’t find the culprit!

Security was easy. I arrived at my gate in the middle of boarding and was moved to the back of the plane with all of the other international arrivals. (It’s safer if those of us infected with Corona walk through crowds of people and sit together in the back of the plane.) It worked out though because I met two other new international teachers and we quickly became friends.

This time through the airport, I had companions. We were the last to leave the plane and we were all shuffled to another station where we filled out more paperwork with the exact same information as the other paperwork we had filled out along the way. Then we got our luggage and carted it ten minutes across the airport, across the street, and into a parking lot where the Corona test site was set up under tents. Station one was paperwork. Again. Station two. The test. A person in full PPE gear was behind a glass wall with two arm openings. Long plastic gloves were placed through the holes for the person doing the testing and another staff member in full PPE was standing there to hold each person still during the test. Is that really necessary, I wondered. When it was my turn, I was told to open my mouth wide and go “Ahhhh.” But I didn’t know that because my eyes were closed and I don’t speak Korean. I figured it out and did it. No problem. They swabbed my throat. Unpleasant but quick. Then the nose. A device. A swab. A something was inserted into my nose (Again, I don’t know what because my eyes were closed.) and I immediately understood why someone was there to hold my head in place. Such a thing is not natural, and gravity or self-preservation pulled my head back to get away. The staff member was there to keep that from happening. It caused a sting and when it was over, it still felt like something was crawling around up in my nose and nasal cavity for several minutes. But it didn’t hurt and I didn’t get a headache. Off to the air conditioned bus that took all of to our new on campus housing.

The two other new teachers, Rhonda (and her son, Christian) and Jennifer, are quarantining in my building together with me, apart. If Jennifer and I both stick our heads out of our windows at the same time, we can talk. I’m thinking of developing a pulley system to send her notes. Just because. Rhonda lives on another floor and her windows face the opposite direction. I’m thinking a paper airplane would be more effective.

When I entered my apartment, I noticed it was the tiniest little space! Very much like a glorified college dorm room. The couch looks like a hospital bench, and I have sunroom which I now affectionately call the suncloset.

It was around 11:00 PM when I arrived and around 4:00 AM when I finally got to sleep. Before the residency staff left, they showed me how to punch in the code to get into my apartment and asked me not to wear shoes in the house. I don’t remember how to enter my apartment. I guess I’ll figure it out in two weeks when I’m allowed to leave for the first time. I’m reminded of my first attempt to return to my apartment in China nine years ago the day after I arrived. I went from building to building waving my key card at the entrance until one of the doors opened. Then I called the school to ask what floor I lived on. The good life. 🙂

And that’s day zero (Day zero crosses several time zones and possibly involves time travel).

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