turning point in my life

Today, I’d like to talk about a turning point in my life.

Back then, I didn’t realize it, but compared to now, the 1990s were a golden age for job seekers. As long as I passed the written test, I could get a drcent job almost anywhere. It was a truly fair time. I myself got into a major company just by passing that one test. I adapted well to the organization, was kind to customers, and got along with my colleagues. I worked there for five years.

 

But at some point, I started feeling empty every morning. I was in my late 20s, and I felt like I was wasting my youth. I didn’t want to just follow orders anymore. I wanted a break. So I boldly handed in my resignation. I was young then. I thought I could easily get another job if I wanted

 

After quitting, I practically lived in the library every day.

For someone as curious as I was, it was heaven. I mostly read literature and science. Literature felt like stories from neighbors I hadn’t met. Physics helped me understand the invisible flow of energy around me.

Then, in 1998, the IMF crisis hit Korea. Countless jobs vanished. The hiring system changed entirely. Getting a job again became nearly impossible.

 

So I asked myself, “What now?” That’s when I came across an ad for a university program that trained international trade specialists. No tuition for four years, and a one-year study abroad opportunity. I studied for six months and got top marks on the entrance exam. At 29, I entered that university. The curriculum was so good that many students who had already graduated elsewhere came back, just like me. One of them had even gone to Seoul National University.

I studied in Korea for three years and then spent a year in Shanghai at Fudan University, studying international cultural exchange. Knowing a neighboring country helped me understand my own even better. That year in China, in 2001, became a major turning point in my life.

 

Chinese universities were very different from Korean ones. Unlike international students, all Chinese students lived in dorms. Lights were turned off by force at midnight, and students had to run three laps around the track before 6 a.m.

The conditions were tough. No air conditioning in the summer, only two warm-water showers per week in the winter, and only 3 liters each time. Eight people in one room. The bathroom walls were so low that if you stood up, you could see the person next to you.

Chinese students studied incredibly hard—from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. non-stop.

There were many Korean students at Fudan, but they lived off-campus in rented apartments with comfortable conditions, similar to back home. Many of them partied, dated, or played games more than they studied. They often showed up late to class after drinking all night. Chinese professors didn’t think highly of them.

There were also some North Korean students. They were very smart—handpicked by the regime to study abroad. One professor once told me they thought I was North Korean because I was never late and always well-prepared.

 

The international student dorm I stayed in was an old building. I shared a room with a Taiwanese friend. Outside our window, the river was black from pollution. We called it the “Black River.” We couldn’t drink the tap water, and bottled water was about the same price as beer. So I drank Tsingtao beer instead—three bottles a day: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Without realizing it, I got hooked on it. I don’t drink anymore though. There are so many things in life more meaningful than alcohol.

In the shared kitchen of the dorm, there were rats. One day, a rat gave birth behind the fridge—about 20 babies. A Haitian student named Nicolai lived next door. He was a kind soul. He fed the baby rats every morning and evening. Rats are usually gross, but up close, the babies were kind of cute. Their squeaks even sounded like an orchestra. One day, the dorm manager got rid of them. I still remember how sad Nicolai looked.

In early 2002, I got very sick from something I ate. It felt like my insides were being stabbed with an ice pick every hour. The Chinese doctor told me to stop eating Chinese food entirely. I suffered for about two weeks. Nicolai took care of me with great kindness—he even spoon-fed me and comforted me. I wonder if I’ll ever meet someone that kind again.

 

I came back to Korea in the summer of 2002, right when the country reached the semifinals in the World Cup. Everyone was eating “World Cone” ice cream.

At 32, I finally graduated from college. I was older than most graduates, and the job market had become more competitive. Getting into a big company was no longer an option. Small companies didn’t feel stable. So I chose the next best thing—becoming a civil servant. I passed the civil service exam in 2004. At first, I didn’t think it was a job that matched my ambitions. I didn’t even tell my college friends where I worked. But now, it’s been 21 years. I’m in my mid-50s and just five years away from retirement.

 

In today’s world, just having a job at my age is a blessing. I can confidently say I’ve lived well and continue to do so. Every day, I remind myself of this quote:

“To be able to look back on one’s past life with satisfaction is to live twice.”