recently i discovered a slightly horrifying fact: the man for whom i've now worked for a full year thought i would enjoy pink wallpaper in my new apartment. pink wallpaper. as in, the entirety of the room covered in pink. he looked truly surprised when i blurted out a very serious "are you kidding?" it was slightly funny at the time, but it begged the question: does he know me at all?
doubtful.
in korea (seoul in particular), as i'm sure i've mentioned before, what's on the surface is very important. it's all about the image. your personal image, your family's image, whatever...everyone is concerned with others' perceptions of them.
this is something i struggled with when i first arrived. in fact, for the first several months that i was here, i cared more about what others thought than i ever have. then i realized what i was doing and stopped. i started dreadlocks two months ago, and i'm using those, given how concerned with the surface people are here, as a way to challenge myself and challenge those around me. my dreads looked like crap for a full month before they finally started to look a little bit nicer, a little bit more like dreads. at first i was a little self-conscious about them. the kids laughed at me every day and i knew every teacher in school was wondering when i would be done with this strange new hairstyle. but after a while, i didn't care. i wasn't doing them to look good or to fit in. i was doing them because i wanted to try it. and once i remembered that, i truly began to embrace it. i liked grossing out the people sitting behind me on the subway with my unwashed hair, and i enjoyed the stares. that's because my reasons for having dreads began to grow deeper. while i don't think i'll truly change anyone, i at least want to make them think. i want the people who stop and stare at me walking down the street to think about why they're staring. i want them to realize that they don't all have to be so much the same, to realize it's not all about appearance and what everyone else thinks, and to realize that there's so much more than the surface.
a friend of mine wrote a song about living here called "my city." the whole song is really good, but the last lines in particular stood out to me:
it's knowin this place, may never quite fit me
but at least in this moment, this is my city
those words are speaking to me so strongly these days. i have been here for exactly a year now, and i am leaving in just over two months. the following is my most recent journal entry:
“this place is my world right now. it's exponentially larger and yet infinitely smaller than worlds i've known in the past. at times it broadens my horizons and perspectives, and at times it shrinks around me.
this place is pain and joy, laughter and tears, brokenness and growth, discovery and being lost. it is everything i am and everything i'm not. it has made me who i am and reminds me who i don't want to be.
this place has changed me, and i am terrified of going home, because i don't know how i'll ever begin to explain that to people who can't truly understand.”
i should clarify that i am definitely excited to go back to the states and see everyone. there's a substantial amount of fear in me, though, as well. that journal entry is my best attempt at explaining korea and what it is to me now, but i don't know if those words are enough for those who used to know me best to understand.
and therein lies the irony of this place. the ones who understand all the little things—all the nuances and minor amusements of korea and what it's like to live here as a foreigner—they're the ones with whom it's nearly impossible to make deeper connections. there's often just not enough time because their places here are just as temporary as yours. that's what adds to the overwhelming feeling of superficiality i've continued to struggle with in korea. in addition to the appearance side of it, relationships are more of the same. it's so very rare to develop friendships here in which people truly know each other. and at the same time, you've removed yourself from the context where you used to exist and left it, and its familiarity and depth, behind. it's like this weird limbo-land in which the only person who truly knows you is you. that is why the potential for growth and maturity is so high when you move to a brand-new place that's miles from everything you used to know. i realized that several months ago and i took it and ran with it, and that is the reason i find myself in the place i do: with friends, but alone, and with no idea what the coming months are going to feel like.
on a lighter note, spring has finally come to seoul! the temperature is perfect, the sun is shining, and it's given me more energy to be out doing things. i'm also in a new apartment that is roughly a two minute walk from school, and i've got all next week off of work...nice-uh :) there are now eight weekends left before i get on a plane to the u.s., and ellie and i are trying to make sure we do everything we want to before heading out. some of those things include:
-getting silver suits and wearing them around seoul
-doing the dmz tour (i remember saying last year that we didn't want to save it till our last month here, but that that's what would probably happen...and it did)
-going hiking in jeollanamdo (south-easternmost province in south korea)
-going to everland (big amusement park outside of seoul)
-exploring islands off the western coast near incheon
-spending more sunday afternoons in olympic park
-going to our korean co-teacher's house in incheon and making korean food with her
miss you all a lot and hope this finds everyone well! i will be posting more photos from march and april to facebook soon.
love and hugs,
heather
