Travels with Kimchiwill give you a lighthearted view of an American who cannot speak or read any Korean but chooses to travel to volunteer and teach English for one month in the city of Gwangju in South Korea. The author returned the following year to volunteer in Seoul, at the Jogyesa Temple. This temple is the headquarters for the largest order of Korean Buddhism, the Jogye Order. Along with her struggles over the language, culture, and lifestyle, the author includes her findings on the achievements of today's South Korea.
After visiting South Korea twice, I felt that it was time to return. In October 2015, I booked a United Airlines flight from Portland, Oregon, to a connecting flight from China Southern Airlines in San Francisco to Seoul. Along my way, I kept wondering how this excursion was going to turn out. Each of my travels there before was incredibly adventurous and often funny. “Maybe this time,” I thought, “it will just be a nice, relaxing trip.” When I transferred flights in San Francisco, I stood waiting to be screened, removed my shoes, and tossed my backpack, waist pack, and money belt on the X-ray security scanner. As I was savoring these TSO women’s’ dialects while they quickly and securely could get all of us through check-in, I kicked myself for not taking any time to learn a bit more Chinese or Korean before I decided to return to Asia. The woman at the security scanner kept yelling at all of us to be sure we were not carrying any unchecked items. When I walked through the millimeter wave advanced imaging technology and walk-through metal detectors, I was stopped and pulled aside. I did not have anything on me, but one security woman kept waving her handheld camera over me. While I was being frisked, I suddenly realized that I had left my ChapStick in my pant pocket! As I was being pushed through the imaging camera, again, I pulled it out and waved it up high enough to be seen. The woman at the scanner began yelling, “You lie! You lie!” She then put her fist down on the scanner belt. She kept repeating, “You lie!” I stepped over towards her holding up my lip balm. She pointed at the scanner belt then at my open hand. I shrugged my shoulders, held it up again, but she sharply directed me to place the forbidden item on the security belt. As I stood in line watching my money, passport, and travel papers all stuffed in my gear just being slammed into the end of the scanner, I was not going to leave this airport without my ChapStick. As it rode through the scanner, I picked it up, grabbed my belongings, and went off to my flight.