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Coming to Korea: Part One

Vanilla Ice in stars and stripes leather jacket and shades.

A pedestrianized street in central Seoul. Trees line each side of the street with banners attached to lamposts advertising events. Numerous shoppers, mostly women, stroll the street.

Coming to Korea: Part One, or

 

The Career-strewn Road to the Land of the Morning Chaos

BY JL COPELAND

 

The topic for this post is at the request of a reader who wanted to know:

 

Why South Korea? What’s it like teaching in Korea in 2026 ?

 

If any of you have any questions or similar curiosities about horror, writing, Korea, raising a family abroad, effective haemorrhoid treatment etc., hit me with a reply.

 

(I beg you. The barrel is starting to get well and truly scraped for these regular missives).

 

Back to the question. Well, two questions, really. I guess I should break it up over a few posts (you lot and your short attention spans).

 

In the first two, I will deal with how I ended up in this clean, crime-free utopia/kimchi-soaked hellhole.

 

In the last, I’ll deal with what it’s like teaching the cream of Korean youth/best not, some of them might be reading this 😉 .

 

Here’s this week’s backing music as you read. You’ll see why I chose this a little later.

 

I studied law at university. I’d liked the idea of being a lawyer since I was ten years old.

 

The alternatives were an underwater archaeologist or Vanilla Ice Part 2.

 

What can I say, I was grounded.

 

I still know Ice Ice Baby by heart.

 

As a special bonus for my readers (& just in case anyone from Universal Music is reading), I’ve recorded my own version, just for you.

 

Vanilla Ice in stars and stripes leather jacket and shades. He's wearing gold bracelets, necklaces and rings and raising his sunglasses to look sexily at the camera.
All I need are a pair of Ray-Bans, a stars and stripes leather jacket andabout three rounds of hair transplants and I’m all set.

 

Ears recovered yet? Not bleeding? Good, back to lawyers.

 

I didn’t exactly know what lawyers did, but my parents said they earned bags of moolah.

 

My heavy diet of American movies also told me that they were always impressive—usually—respected, & sometimes in league with the devil.

 

I liked what I saw.

 

I was definitely not respected.

 

Nor impressive.

 

In league with the devil? The jury was still out on that one.

 

By the time I was sixteen, I was a straight C student who’d almost failed his middle school exams, with a temperament closer to a high chair than high school.

 

In the last year of middle school, I told my form teacher I wanted to be a lawyer.

 

She laughed.

 

Not even kidding. Encouraging stuff.

 

Screw you, Mrs R.

 

But in high school, I pulled my finger out, avoided the girls (read: was avoided by the girls) kept my head down and did pretty good.

 

I scraped into university.

 

My college years were uneventful: I worked hard and didn’t get laid.

 

So essentially a repeat of high school—and the rest of my life.

 

I entered law school in Manchester, and then I discovered a certain band from Detroit, and the wheels kinda began to fall off.

 

The band was The White Stripes.

 

Because of them, I picked up a guitar for the first time, dyed my hair black and formed a tribute band with my youngest sister.

 

I know.

 

We were called The Shite Stripes.

 

I know.

 

If you want more, you can read my blog post: The Legend of The ShiteStripes, which is coming soon(ish), so I’m going to keep this part brief.

 

I didn’t drop out of law school or anything. It was a tribute band. I’m not that mental.

 

I passed my exams (top scored in one of them—suck on that, Mrs R) and then it was time to find a job.

 

After five years of grinding academic slog, what did I choose to specialize in?

 

I specialized in waiting tables and washing pots at the Cavendish Arms, Cartmel.

 

Outside the Cavendish Arms pub in Cartmel. There are a couple of empty summer tables on the cobbles bordering the pub. The outside of the pub is covered with hanging flowers and the street beyond the cobbles is quiet apart from a solitary pedestrian.
The Cavendish Arms: career graveyard, great gravy.

 

The band thing again.

 

My parents expected me to apply to law firms.

 

I didn’t.

 

The summer passed. Application deadlines loomed.

 

I stayed on at the pub.

 

I’d practice all hours when I wasn’t at work, plotting world domination. You couldn’t move in my room for drum kits, amplifiers, PA systems.

 

Six months passed.

 

A year.

 

The application forms for the law firms sat gathering dust beneath the piles of guitar tablature.

 

We did have loads of gigs.

 

People were into us.

 

But we were still a White Stripes tribute band.

 

When I reflect on that time, I wasn’t completely delulu (to borrowGeneration Z’s catchy lingo). It wasn’t like I thought we’d be the first tribute band to ‘make it,’ (well, maybe a little).

 

I was simply having the time of my life. I loved the music. I loved playing live. For the first time in my life, girls looked at me.

 

Girls!

 

I know!!!

 

But I was becoming a little anxious. My friends all either had jobs in the City or were travelling.

 

You know, productive/character-building crap.

 

I was broke and stuck in Cumbria.

 

What was I doing? Like the song atthe beginning of this newsletter, was I wasting my time?

 

Then Alison emailed me.

 

I didn’t know it then, but that email would change my life forever.

 

Yes, I am going to leave you hanging.

 

If a 7-nation army couldn’t hold you back, read a few of my other blog posts in the meantime, you’ll feel better. You might even laugh (might—no promises).

 

Speak soon.

JL

 

PS: Is your email promotions tab/spam folder screaming out to be stuffed with something less ‘problematic?’

 

Want regular tales from a chuckle-headed writer stuck in the neon hellscape of Korea and trying desperately to tunnel out, one word at a time?

 

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