The First of Many

Let me tell you, introductions have never been my strong suit. They are completely and utterly intimidating. In my five years at university I’ve always felt the pressure of writing the perfect introductory line to an essay, one that will do so many things at once: impress the reader, draw them in, and summarize the entire idea of an essay in a mere couple of phonemes strung together. For me, as the token eldest child with an A type personality, coming up with that perfect first line required at least an hour staring at the bright screen of my computer with my earplugs in and several cups of tea. So today, I’m breaking free from the pressure of the perfect first liner, and boy does it ever feel good.

Now that that one tiny confession is off my chest, I can start this blog for real this time. Ready?

For all of you who may not know me and those of you who may need reminding, my name is Alex. I am a recent university graduate and lost soul. Heavy I know, but it’s true. I have currently entered my quarter-life crisis and am questioning the ways of the world from inside my little basement apartment. Although I eventually want to have a career in the film industry as a cinematographer and plan on doing my Masters in that very concentration, I feel that I am currently at a crossroads. I could choose to continue with school and complete my Masters, or I could do something else, namely travel. I chose the latter for several reasons: I’ve been in school for almost my entire life and needed a mental hiatus, and most importantly, I feel that traveling will significantly influence my future film career. Film is a medium of communication, and an individual film can be regarded as an individual’s position or view of the world as they see it, or a view of the world that they want to portray (FYI this definition excludes most Hollywood blockbusters). Other times, a film can be seen as an extension of the author’s personality. With this thought in mind, it dawned on me: how on earth could I ever create a good film when in reality, I know so little about the world and all that it can offer? Plus, how much do I really know about myself if I have hardy seen the world? And thus, my existential crisis came full circle to rest with my decision to travel.

And so, next month I embark on my trip to South Korea to teach English through the government-funded EPIK program. I chose this route of traveling for several reasons. First, you can make loads of money because the program pays for flights, accommodation, and half your health care plus a decent salary. Second, I wanted to travel as more than just a tourist; I wanted to immerse myself in a culture rather than just skim its surface, and to my delight EPIK contracts last for at least a year. Last, I love kids, and the idea of being surrounded by several little Korean children makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

In summary, I’m terrified, nervous, and definitely going to be hyperventilating at the airport, but at the same time I’m thrilled, excited, and very impatient about venturing into the unknown. I want this to be a journey of discovery; of discovering new parts of the world and hopefully, discovering new parts of myself. I chose the name ‘A Spiral Staircase’ as my personal metaphor and constant reminder; even though it may be dizzying, laborious, and much more difficult than the elevator ride up I want to savour each step on the way to the top, and it will be all the more rewarding when I get there.