Sarah Angelica Caldwell



One by one, our names and placements were called out on the bus ride down to South Jeolla. Behind me, I could hear the continual whispers regarding others' placements as I awaited my own name to be announced. I got an English center in Yeosu! I'm placed in Gwangju and my school is in Damyang! Others sounded nervous as they learned of their placements: I have three schools on an island, all within walking distance from each other. I have one school in Gwangyang, but it's a 40-minute bus ride from my home. I listened to the murmurs and excited conversations coming from the rows behind me, knowing that the fate of my future was currently clasped, hidden from view, in the hands of the coordinator. Looking out the window at the mountains and valleys passing by, I imagined myself living and working in one of the tiny towns that flitted in and out of sight among the trees and hills.

And then the coordinator was standing over me with a clipboard, his bespectacled eyes darting up and down his list, searching for my name. "Sarah," he found me, "you're going to Hampyeong." The name sounded so insignificant and unfamiliar as he said it out loud. "You will be teaching at a middle school, and you have two travel schools-another middle school and a high school." I smiled; these were the age groups I had been dreading. He showed me a map of my new town on his phone, but I didn't know what I was looking at-ripples of green dotted with buildings here and there, and a lot of things named after butterflies. Before I knew it, I was in Gwangju, standing in a crowded immigration office with my new co-teacher, a young, soft-spoken man dressed all in black, as he helped me fill out paperwork. He drove me to Hampyeong that afternoon, where I was introduced to my new students and co-workers, all of whom greeted us with hugs and hellos, and many curious glances. Despite having nearly one hundred students to keep track of, my co-teacher was willing to help me out in any way he could. He was fairly new to the education world, and even newer to dealing with foreigner affairs. But he strove to provide me with everything I could possibly need, from opening a bank account to telling me the best hangout spots in Gwangju.



Life in Hampyeong has been smooth sailing thus far, despite the hecticness of my first day. Most days, I walk to school, and, on others, I take scenic bus routes to my travel schools in the beautiful countryside. My co-workers feed me endless snacks, and, oh, how their eyes light up when I speak to them in Korean! My students are wild some days, but they are also the most hilarious and caring kids I have ever met-the exact opposite of what I had expected of teenagers when I first arrived. Teaching has been a whirlwind of learning different textbook curriculums and admitting defeat in the face of games that end up too complicated. But it has also been the most fun work I have ever done, and I look forward to it every single day. After work and on weekends, I find that I have more free-time and energy than I've ever had, so I'm always willing to explore the wonderful province of South Jeolla with my newfound friends and colleagues. Within the first four months alone, I've traveled to green tea fields, beaches, bamboo forests, cable car rides over the ocean, and the very top of a mountain-and that's just within South Jeolla alone!

"Why did you choose South Jeolla and not a different province?" someone asked me. "Why not somewhere closer to Seoul?" Valid questions for someone who hadn't known what to expect when applying to teach in South Jeolla. But, these days, I always have the same answer: I came here to be immersed in Korean culture, to see the pieces and places of Korea that are rapidly fading with each passing year. The forests, mountains, and beaches, the fields that change from green to gold to white throughout the seasons. I came here to meet the generations that grow scarce with time, and to get to know the history of those who built these invisible towns like Hampyeong-the places most only ever pass by on trains or buses. There's a beauty and sincerity to this province that can't be found in places like Seoul or Busan, and I take pride in my placement because I get to experience a side of Korea that many will never have the chance to see.

Alex-Andrei Ungurenasu



When I moved to another country for the second time in my life, I asked myself if home is a place or a feeling. I wondered where and why I've felt at home before and whether I'll feel at home in Korea. Before I landed at Incheon Airport, I only knew that I'd be living in Gangwon State, Korea's least densely populated province. About a week later, the day before I'd move there, I found out that I was placed in Dunnae, a rural town nestled in Gangwon's never-ending mountains.



As soon as I arrived, I became friends with many of the teachers at my school, who generously showed me around Dunnae and the surrounding Hoengseong County. More importantly, the students immediately welcomed me, and they've been my highlight of living in Dunnae ever since. Whenever I leave my apartment to do groceries or just to get something from the convenience store, I always run into some of my students. As soon as they see me, their faces light up and they yell "Teacher Alex!" before they run up to me for high-fives. Or when I sit and write at one of my favorite cafes, I see many of them pass by and wave at me from the window. On my birthday, they even brought me a cake and a card that they all wrote short messages on, and they sang me "Happy Birthday." Each small interaction makes me feel like I'm in the right place and that my job has a direct impact on these kids.



When I'm not teaching, I spend the weekends traveling around Gangwon and other nearby places. From Dunnae's train station, it only takes me half an hour to reach Gangneung, a city on Korea's east coast, so I can easily go on a daytrip to the beach on sunny days. Then, in the opposite direction, I can also get to Seoul in just an hour and a half by train. Many of my teacher friends that I met at EPIK's orientation also live in other places in Gangwon, such as Wonju and Taebaek, and I often visit or meet up with them on weekends. When I don't feel like going to another town or city, I go hiking on any of the nearby mountains. I've spent more than a decade in Ontario, which is relatively flat, so I can never get enough of Gangwon's mountains sprawling well into the horizon, whether I'm hiking or taking the bus through the winding mountain roads. When I take a break from lesson-planning at school, I go to the window outside my office and I gaze at the mountains in the distance, admiring the wind turbines standing tall on proud Taegisan.



Wherever I travel to in Korea, however, the best part is always coming back to Dunnae in the evening. As soon as I step onto the train platform and I see the town from above, including the red neon cross on top of a church by my apartment building, I know that I'm home. And when the students greet me on the streets, I know that I've made the best decision to move to rural Korea, where I can truly feel like I'm part of a community and I'm surrounded by beautiful nature everywhere I look. I'm proud and grateful to live in Dunnae and in Gangwon State, and I hope more people can come visit and appreciate the beauty in simplicity.

Mae Ann Joy Jimenez



Nestled near the center of the historical and cultural province, Jeollabuk-do, is a small, magical land named Imsil. Imsil is where the farms stretch and sprawl, where lush mountains border lakes, and most importantly, where the giant cheese lords over its residents. When one lives in Imsil, cheese is always the answer. This, I've come to know very well.

"Where in the country do you live?" Koreans often ask.
"Imsil," I say. "You know..."
"The cheese," we both answer, laughing.
"It's very good," I tell them honestly. "I like it."
Usually they look up and sigh, and tell me that they haven't been to the Cheese Theme Park since they were an elementary school student. "I wish I could go again."



Then I smile to myself, because I can go. I can visit the cheese park whenever I want. I can climb up the stairs of the giant cheese and spy the pizza restaurants, specially-made ice cream, and cheese cafes in and near the park. I canclimb back down to visit the goats and pet them for a job well done.

And although this dairy craft is the pride of every Imsil inhabitant (many establishments across the country buy and sell our lovely "Imsil Cheese!"), there are many more treasures in this quiet town which is already, in itself, a gem of the nation.

Imsil is a sector of nature where each season blends beautifully into the next. Since there are no tall buildings crowding the sky, in their place are the Earth's natural buildings: Mountains. They're breathtaking and hikeable, for those who like to take walks and discover new sceneries. In the Winter, the mountain trees are dark and bare, but toward the tops they're perpetually white with ice and snow. In Spring, Imsil is dressed in pink. Blossoms float around like sprites from a Ghibli movie. In the Summer, the land grows intensely green on land and blue in the water?an unforgettable sight. Finally, in Fall, the trees flash red and yellow. You'll likely see them from your school window and walk through them around town.



But what touched me the most when I moved to Imsil almost two years ago was how continuously kind its people are. Many families have been living here for generations?to them, this tiny spot on the map is truly home, and it has been even before the giant cheese arrived. A true sense of community is felt from the grocery store aisles to the corners of every farm. You see the same faces every day?the elder who watches over the bus terminal, the man who sweeps the villa grounds, the grandmothers who make kimchi together. They see you, too. All four of your fifth grade students in the ice cream shop; the young woman who opened a cat sanctuary on the corner of your street; the couple who sits in the seats across from you on the bus to work. Nearly every day is a gift in Imsil. Truly. Coffee, bungeoppang, rice cakes, cheese sticks...the feeling of being welcomed in Imsil never ends. Soon you'll find yourself giving back. Mandarins, sweet potatoes, quiet hellos and see you soons...the constant, mutual warmth is something you can't experience just anywhere. It's what makes Imsil special.

Pit Wai Low

Hi everyone, my name is Wai and I'm from Sydney, Australia. I'm currently living the dream as an EPIK teacher on the stunning island of Geoje, nestled like a secret gem on the southern tip of Gyeongsangnam-do. Now, when I heard that I had been placed in "Gyeongsangnam-do," I did my due diligence. I Googled, I researched, I harassed family and friends with endless "what-ifs". Sure, I knew some parts were islands, but surely, I wouldn't be one of the "lucky" chosen few, right? Wrong! Smack bang in the middle of Geoje I landed, one of five newbies in my intake to call this island home.

My heart, let's just say, sank. Banished to an island? What on Earth did I do to deserve this? I mean, 'Geoje' in Korean literally means 'Great Rescue. Images of Tom Hanks and a volleyball named Wilson danced in my head. These were the thoughts swirling like kimchi in my brain during that Jeonju University orientation, surrounded by cheers of joy from my mainland-bound peers. Thankfully, my initial terror couldn't have been further from the truth. Geoje, my friends, is paradise.



Picture this: steep emerald hikes that eventually open up, revealing jaw-dropping viewpoints that stretch across turquoise waters. And the beaches? Pristine stretches of sand so soft, there were times I felt like I was back home. And if that wasn't enough, we also have the weather to be grateful for warm sunshine, cool breezes, and cloudless skies as far as the eye can see (well, most of the time!). But Geoje's magic isn't just the kind you capture in a photo. It's the people who make this island tick. They're the salt of the earth, warm smiles and generosity woven into their very being. My students at Samnyong Elementary, with their infectious laughter and excitement, are a daily dose of sunshine. My colleagues? Supportive, hilarious, and always willing to entertain my never-ending questions about the Korean language. The island also boasts an amazing expat community that has welcomed me with open arms.



So, if you're looking for an EPIK placement that's more than just a job, a place where breathtaking beauty meets genuine connection, and where the weather is second to none, then look no further than Geoje. Trust me, you won't feel banished, you'll feel embraced. Come see for yourself-hike a mountain, swim in the crystal-clear waters, and maybe, just maybe, you'll find your own little slice of paradise on Geoje Island. So, what are you waiting for?
See you soon!