a breakthrough...maybe

At this point I must label myself "cautiously optimistic" (in the manner of a seasoned politician or similarly practiced equivocator), for I've been disappointed before, and am warned against further indiscretion.

THE STORY SO FAR: Things have gone rather rotten for me in the past few months. I had accepted a job in South Korea as an English teacher, but it fell through due to paperwork delays. (Totally unexpected and unfair paperwork delays, mind you.) In consequence, I lost my job, because I gave my notice too early. When I finally did get my paperwork, the job market in K-Land had dried up like a...like a...like a thing that dries up really fast. So there I was, in limbo: no job, no prospects, still stuck in my parents' house, bills to pay, and hope fading fast. Miss H was in the same boat, only ten times worse because her parents drive her up the wall.

THE BREAKTHROUGH: One of my friends (and a fellow Korea expatriate), whom I'll call Smithy, pointed out to me that, in the absence of a job offer from one recruiting agency, I should court several more and see if they could turn anything up. This I did, and was both genuinely surprised and ludicrously glad when a service called Longbridge Pacific e-mailed and told me they had a splendid couple's position available in Cheonan, Chungcheong-do, South Korea.

Cheonan!

If that name sounds familiar, there's a darn good reason: the ROKS Cheonan was the unfortunate Pohang-class corvette that made headlines back in March 2010 for being split in half and sunk by what North Korea assured the world was most definitely not a North Korean torpedo fired by a North Korean submarine.

Curious, I went online and looked it up (the city, not the ship). Cheonan, it seems, is the main transportation hub of western Korea, and serves as the gateway to the Seoul area. My interest was already piqued. Living on Geoje (the second-largest island in the R.O.K.) was nice and pastoral and everything, but a two-hour bus ride (or a bouncing ferry) was required just to get to civilization. It would be nice this time around if I lived someplace that was well-connected to the rest of the country by road and rail. And the location was perfect: central Korea, only 50 miles or so south of Seoul, and about as far north of major cities like Daejeon (where the Costco is).

This was looking really good. And it was looking that way before I noticed that the job offer paid each of us ₩2.2 million per month (about $2200); that we'd be working with no less than six other foreign teachers; that our apartment came fully furnished; and that all the usual goodies (paid rent and airfare) were in place.

Hot diggity damn.

So I jumped on it. I e-mailed Longbridge back and told them to sign us up. We're waiting on phone interviews, and then we'll send our documents off and get our visas. And then...we're gone. Like, in December. We don't have to wait around until flippin' February to get jobs! Halle-frickin'-lujah!

And then, ladies and gentlemen, we'll be having the time of our lives. Pigging out on kimchi and bulgogi and sannakji (you remember that, don't you?); taking in the majestic sights and sounds of the Korean countryside; reveling in the nation's proud history and cultural traditions; living it up with our fellow foreigners; and, of course, raking in the won. Why, by the time this little junket is over (two years, if I can talk Miss H into it), we'll have enough money to go anywhere in the States that we like, get a decent apartment, find jobs, pay off loans, maybe even get Miss H her master's degree and me my commercial pilot's license. Maybe even my instrument rating! Hot diggity damn!

Oh wait. I'm supposed to be cautiously optimistic, aren't I?