Life of a Road Warrior

Working in an international-facing role at a Korean company for the last 3 years has not only forced me into a lot of late night and early morning conference calls, but also has put me on the road a fair bit. I also have had a long-distance relationship with a lady in Vietnam for over a year — Skype cannot fully bridge the gap between us. And, living as an expat in Asia means I am tempted by the many travel opportunities.

The pride of Incheon Airport — Korean Air

This entry will not reveal anything unusual for someone with a career in consulting or sales, but for me moving to Samsung in 2012 has kicked my life into travel overdrive. Every expat I know here has developed his own system for coping with the physical torment of overseas travel. This is my story.

Unlike for consultants, Samsung flies its employees below director level in economy class on all international travel (except for Brazil, which requires 23 hours flying time and is about as far away from Korea as you can get). Thankfully, we are usually (although not always) flying one of the two Korean carriers (Asiana or Korean Air) which offer more leg room and better service than most airlines (especially United and American … yuck!). Yet, flying 13 hours to reach New York or 11 hours to reach London is still quite a chore. There is only so much you can do when your seat bends just 10 degrees and you are trying to catch some sleep.

My glasses go on before a long flight

On top of that, I have walked off the airplane at JFK Airport in New York and traveled straight to a meeting — my counterpart looked at me like I was a zombie about to collapse. Alternatively, on my last business trip to the UK the Samsung Korean dispatchers insisted on taking us out for Korean food and drinking the night we landed at London Heathrow. My body did not know where it was and the soju shots compounded my narcolepsy.

Trying to mix business and personal travel can prove even more problematic. In late March, I flew from Germany to South Korea, leaving Saturday evening and arriving Sunday afternoon. Then, straight back to the office on Monday, jet-lagged and having lost much of my weekend to transit. I already had a trip planned to Singapore with my girlfriend departing Wednesday night — I unpacked, re-packed, ran out of the Samsung office in Suwon at 4:30pm to get to Incheon Airport (10 minute taxi ride + 70 minutes by bus from Suwon). Needless to say I was exhausted when I finally saw my girlfriend at 1:30am in Singapore’s Changi Airport. I enjoyed 4 days with her, then back to Seoul on a Monday morning red-eye. One can only push his body like this when he is young.

Everyone has their own coping tactics and I am no exception. For long intercontinental flights, I prefer the aisle seat on the inside of the plane — I like having the flexibility to walk around whenever I want, and by sitting inside you are less likely to have someone next to you. However, on red-eye flights from Southeast Asia I want the window — please don’t bother me! I put on my eye mask and headphones in my ears to block out the noise … if I do this right I maybe get a 4-hour nap before landing at Incheon Airport. Then, I head to the airport sauna — yes, Incheon Airport has a sauna in the basement! — take a shower and head straight to the bus for Suwon. I can usually take another 1-hour nap before arriving in Suwon, catch a taxi and plow through a workday… with plenty of coffee, of course.

For jet lag ... well, I still have not unlocked the secret to beating that. A couple things I try ... no napping when I arrive at my destination — this usually allows me to sleep well, at least the first night. I have tried taking a sleeping pill in the airplane but did not like it, it did not settle well in my stomach and actually prevented me from sleeping effectively on the plane. Some expats here swear by Ambien on the airplane, but that has some scary side-effects (Google it). I usually carry melatonin and feel safe taking that for a couple days after landing.

I curse United, but the Tokyo Narita to Washington Dulles flight is not bad

Traveling in Asia is certainly easier than in the USA — better airports, better airlines, fewer nerve-wracking flight delays and connecting flights, fewer strict cabin baggage policies, less crowded planes, and looser security policies. Nevertheless, I still yearn for the day when I can fly business class, or at least figure out the frequent-flyer game enough to get upgraded once in awhile :)

MERS and My Experience with Korean Health Care

As MERS (Middle East Respiratory Syndrome) cases continue to be reported in South Korea — at last count, 9 deaths and 108 cases — the community here is on high alert. Masks are flying off the shelves and schools have closed. Citizens are avoiding malls, sports arenas, and other public places. Some of the emergency policies enacted border on ridiculous — for instance, my colleague’s 2-week forced exile from the office for visiting Egypt (a MERS-free country) recently — but as you would expect the C.Y.A. policies come out in times of mild panic. My home country’s response to Ebola last year was similar.

People here are asking the natural questions: How did this happen? Will it get worse? The most important question to be asked is: What went wrong? In a country still stained by the Sewol ferry tragedy last year, local citizens are rightfully questioning the farcical initial response of government officials (which thankfully is improving).

I was comfortable when there was no MERS in the ER

In my opinion, the reason South Korea now has the largest MERS-infected population outside of Saudi Arabia is partly down to bad luck, bad management by the health system, and a bit of Korean culture. First, bad luck: unlike the Middle Eastern countries, South Korea is densely populated, making it easier for a virus to spread to new hosts. However, this doesn’t explain why the initial carrier went misdiagnosed for a week and visited 4 clinics in the meantime, or why a disease which only spreads in hospitals has found its way into so many (29 at last count).

The initial lack of transparency was appalling and certainly contributes to the spread of the virus. South Korea failed to learn the lessons of SARS, a far more transmittable but less deadly disease, by practicing the same censorship as the Chinese authorities did back in 2003. For two weeks, the hospitals were not named, creating a vacuum filled by all sorts of crazy rumors. In my 3 years of working for a Korean company, I have also often seen knowledge withheld between groups and by executives, leading to all kinds of false information.

In the meantime, many people unnecessarily and unwittingly visited hospitals carrying the disease, which brings me to my next point about Korean culture. In Korea, family members are far more involved in the care of a hospital patient than in Western countries, often sitting for days on end as their lived ones recover. In most cases, this is a rather pleasant practice — the community helps to heal its sick, so to speak. But when a deadly and unannounced virus is plaguing hospital emergency rooms, this leads many of these caring visitors to become afflicted with the disease. Also with proper infection-prevention practices failing to be applied, such as isolating the MERS patients, this has led to many more cases.

I personally had a rough spring this year with my health and spent more time in Korean hospitals than I certainly wanted, thankfully before the arrival of MERS. In late February, I gashed my shin after failing to complete a “box jump” at the gym, which I unwisely treated alone for a couple weeks. Finally during a business trip in March in Europe I visited a local clinic and received a cream, which did not work particularly well … so I started with the Korean medical system.

Fortunately Samsung has an on-site health clinic where I could see a general practitioner that referred me to a specialist at the local hospital. The level of English was not great for the doctor or the staff, but between their broken English and my broken Korean, and a helpful staff member on my team, I was able to schedule my next appointment.

I visited Ajou University Hospital in Suwon, a nice-looking and modern facility. Fortunately this hospital had an “international help desk” where people like me could call in advance for appointments, show up and be guided to the right place. The help desk also facilitated payment, and their English skills were quite good — I was happy to interact with them. With the doctors themselves, communication was definitely a mixed bag. The specialist doctor, an older man, was good at communicating with me and put me at ease. However, I interacted mostly with his group of younger staff, probably interns, who surprisingly could not communicate well with me. For instance, one of these interns instructed me that I would need to clean the wound daily on my own for 5 days before my next appointment. When I asked him for instructions on how to do this, rather than speaking to me he just typed them into his computer, and seemed surprised when I asked him to write down the names of the over-the-counter items in Korean. Bear in mind that these are some of the most highly-educated members of Korean society, and people who were in school learning English not so long ago. A sad reflection on the state of English-language education in Korea…

The treatment at Ajou, though, ended up being quite good, and inexpensive compared with the crazy American health care system. I only have a small scar on my shin which is fading over time.

Soonchunhyang Hospital, a well-known facility within walking distance from my house

Shortly after completing treatment for my shin, I noticed swelling in my foot. It was a Friday night and I panicked, so I limped over to the emergency room at Soonchunhyang (SCH) Hospital, walking distance from my apartment. Like most emergency rooms, it was not a pleasant place — I could hear a lot of crying from one room, and despite feeling fine except for my foot I was given an I.V. needle, which seemed excessive. A blood test was conducted, which thankfully found no infection in my blood, though I did have an infection in my foot, and I was prescribed antibiotics. The ER doc communicated very clearly with me, but left me with a huge wrap over my entire lower leg, leaving me unable to clean the shin wound that still needed some ointment.

I returned on Saturday and same drill as Ajou — see the international desk, speak to someone in English, then was directed to see a specialist. Like Ajou, SCH hospital was also very crowded, but I was able to get a few minutes with a guy who didn’t speak much English. He cut off the leg wrap, took a look at everything and told me to return on Monday, but didn’t do anything to clean my shin wound as I had asked. On Monday I returned, and he told me I was okay to walk with little explanation. Given his lack of communication, I wasn’t confident in his diagnosis, but thankfully it was the right one.

In short, for foreigners visiting a hospital in South Korea, you will probably be fine once this nasty MERS virus clears. But for those with children or anxious about your ability to communicate freely with doctors in a language you understand, research your options carefully in advance if you can. From talking with my expat colleagues, I have observed that Korean doctors tend to prescribe pills and treatments with little explanation, so tread with caution. In my experience, these treatments have generally worked, but others’ experiences vary. Korean doctors are not accustomed to being questioned by patients, and transparency about your treatment may be less than what you are used to. I think MERS will pass over the next 2 weeks, and I am hopeful that Korea can take the lessons learned from this episode to improve its health care system further.