DAEGU, South Korea — A 2019 Ole Miss graduate had just moved to South Korea to teach English in the wake of the country’s first wave of COVID-19 cases.
Pierce Morrison, a Nashville native, arrived in Seoul on Feb. 19 as the story of the mass infection at the Shincheonji Church was just unfolding.
“Everyone was being very cautious,” Morrison said. “We all had to stand in line for immigration as they took everybody’s temperature. If you had a spiked temperature, they were going to quarantine us and take a test.”
Morrison stayed in Seoul for a week and a half after deeming it too dangerous to move to Daegu, where he had arranged living space.
“It sparked a lot of paranoia, but not panic,” he said. “The government was very transparent with the numbers and the broadcasts. If you turned on the TV, you could see the numbers.”
The scene displayed a country taking action against a quickly spreading virus. Preventative tactics were immediately initiated, including drive-thru testing, enforced mask-wearing, and sanitizing bottles tied to railings, chairs, and subway stations.
For a city with a population of nearly 10 million people, the scene Morrison encountered upon his arrival in South Korea was much different than he anticipated.
“It was a surreal experience,” he said. “It’s one of the busiest places in the world, and the streets of Seoul and the metro were relatively empty.”
Morrison works at a private academy, but the liability cost is too high to begin classes. After over a month without pay, Morrison said he is well into his emergency fund.
“I expected to be able to work and get paid,” he said. “But I brought enough to live for a month and a half without pay. It wasn’t what I wanted to have to prepare for, but here I am.”
School in South Korea was set to start on March 1, yet schools remain closed amid the global pandemic. Morrison said the schools plan to test an online format this week, and hope to launch fully online at a date in the near future.
“We’re working our tails off to get them up and running in the next couple weeks,” he said. “Us foreign teachers at private schools are dependent on the school opening.”
The South Korean government is subsidizing the pay of foreign teachers at public schools, but has only left guidelines on how to run private schools. The closure of the private schools, known as hagwons, can not be mandated – or else the government would have to subsidize the lost earnings of the hagwons.
But if the parents are not comfortable with starting school back online and the hagwons begin classes without them, parents will likely pull their children from the school.
“It’s a delicate balance we work in,” Morrison said. “Other than trying to get parents on board with online classes, we don’t have a strong plan on how to ride out this storm.”
Though finances are thin, Morrison said the most difficult challenge has been the lack of social community in a foreign country where a virus is limiting social interaction.
“I have two co-teachers, and they live in the same apartment building as me,” he said. “Besides them, I don’t have any community or connection with other people.”
A Tennessee native, he anticipated the difficulties of shifting from an overtly extroverted culture to one that typically doesn’t engage in small talk. And now, due to the virus, most are very wary of meeting anyone they don’t know well.
“There’s still a lot of fear,” he said. “If you’re not in a family circle, they’re probably not going to meet with you.”
Despite the fear, the country continues to operate many coffee shops and restaurants, and even small gatherings continue to occur in parks and public spaces. Many of the places on lockdown are due to the presence of known cases.
“A starbucks down the road just reopened after being closed for a few weeks after a COVID case was reported there,” Morrison said. “The government comes in and cleans everything, tests, and then waits.”
Many public buildings remain open, though business is slow. Markets and grocery stores welcome mask-donning customers, who cautiously navigate stocked food aisles. Morrison said he has only waited in line once since he’s been in Korea.
In contrast to many western countries, the South Korean government immediately urged its citizens to wear masks, increasing the demand for masks in a country that already has a culture of wearing them.
Morrison said he wears a mask everywhere he goes. If someone is not wearing a mask in a public building, they will be asked to leave.
“That was definitely a shock to me,” he said. “You will wear the mask. No if’s, and’s or but’s about it.”
Due to the growing demand over the last two months, the government continues to regulate how many masks go to healthcare and how many go to the public.
“We’re limited to two reusable masks per week,” he said. “It limits people’s exposure to the outdoors by making them not go outside without a mask.”
The process of obtaining a mask operates on a rationing basis. The last digit of a person’s year of birth decides what days masks are available for individual purchase.
“If the last digit of your birth year is a one or a six, you buy your mask on Mondays,” he said. “If it’s a two or a seven, you buy on Tuesdays, and so on.”
Despite being out of work for the last month, Morrison’s days stay busy with work preparation and studying Korean.
Among those in South Korea, Morrison said the morale is shifting toward the positive as the weather changes.
“I’m hoping we’re seeing the end of it in Korea,” he said. “We’re ready to go outside and breath. We’re ready to meet friends. We’re ready to go out for dinner. As the Koreans are saying, ‘힘내요’ – you can do it!”