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“Just start driving south please.” I tell the driver.

“Miss, do you not know where you are going?” 

I ask him if he knows any cheap hotels in Seoul. 

“There are a few cubicle hotels exclusively for girls.  A lot of girls with low wage jobs stay there until they save enough money for a studio or an apartment.  Many of them recently moved to Seoul from the countryside.” 

I let out a big sigh of relief.  “That sounds perfect.  Could you take me to the closest one?”  

Cheap and safe—that’s what I need right now.  I have a little less than 800 dollars in my debit card and I need to get a job before I run out of money.   I take out my notebook to jot down a few thoughts and a list of things I need to do right away.  

Call Brian; Look for a job (waitress, hostess, bartender, or English teacher); Buy shampoo, soap, toothpaste, and multivitamin; Can I rent a studio for six months? How much would it cost?; Where can I make friends?  Gym? Church? Club?; “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do” --Mark Twain

While I'm thinking about my game plan, the taxi driver pulls over in front of a dilapidated building.  The first floor is a restaurant that sells beef stew; the third floor is a gym with the advisement “OPEN 24 HOURS.  $30/MONTH FOR MEMBERSHIP” written in neon green.  Turns out, the second floor is the hotel where I will be staying.  A bit stunned but realizing that I’m not in a position to be picky, I thank the driver and take my luggage out of the trunk.  

The driver rolls down the window and waves his hand.

“Have a good night, Miss.”  With these words, he quickly drives away to pick up another customer. 

*        *        *

Luckily there is a room available for 9 dollars.  The hallway is dimly lit, with all the walls painted white.  I walk past a few girls in cute, animal-print pajamas.  Seems like they are going to the bathroom to brush their teeth.  They look so young, probably in their late teens.  I wonder what they do for a living. 

When I get to my room, I’m surprised to find out there is no pillow, no sheets, no fridge.  Nothing but a tiny desk on top of a tiny bed.  Not even an inch of extra floor space for anything else.  This is the most austere and sterile looking room I’ve ever seen.  It’s literally one tenth the size of my dorm room, which all my college friends complained was too small.  I then realize that I don’t have a towel and I can’t shower.  Did I even bring my pajamas? 

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