So while I was sleeping last night, Jim went out to the store. He didn’t bother to lock the door, since we live in a private building, and he was only stepping out for a little while. Plus it was about 3am, the only people on the street are fellow foreigners calling their families and chatting, and some incapacitated drunk Koreans. Well, while Jim was out, and I was asleep, someone came into our apartment, stole my purse, dumped it out in the hallway, and made off with my wallet. Which had about $200 cash, my American drivers license (so I now can’t get a Korean one, not that I’d f&^%ing drive here), my Alien Registration Card, my American and Korean bank cards, my SS card, and what made me saddest of all since to me it makes me more of a resident than my ARC by my standards: my shiny new Kyobo card. (A chain of bookstores that sells English language books.)
Luckily my passport was hidden elsewhere.
It just keeps getting better and better.
One of the Korean teachers at the school graciously went down to the police station with me and filled out all the required forms in Korean. The cops were attentive and friendly, but basically said they couldn’t do a whole lot. I asked if they could knock door to door on our floor and ask if anyone saw anyone suspicious. They said that wasn’t within their authority. Well, what the fuck, what authority do they have? (To be quite honest, we’re pretty positive it was the crazy girl across the hall and her drunk, pilled-out boyfriend.) We knocked on her door this morning, pointed at my purse, and without even prompting the boyfriend said “You want money?” and then slammed the door in my face. The cops didn’t seem to think that was very compelling.
Although this has been an inconvenient set-back, for the most part things have been pretty positive. Even with the quarantine, even with a chauvinistic pig of a boss, even with someone walking in out of who knows where into my house while I’m sleeping, I have to say that the other teachers both Korean and foreign are awesome. I adore my students, even the ones that give me hell, and I’ve been amazed at how accommodating a lot of the shopkeepers are at my lack of learning any Korean aside from hello and thank you thus far. Korean restaurant staff and shopkeepers are masters of reading mime, and are usually full of smiles and good will.
So here’s to another week of not getting bombed by the Dong II master and my own series of unfortunate events.
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