adaptation

February's word is 적응, or "adaptation."

What does it mean to adapt to something? Dictionary.com says that adaptation is “the modification of individual and social activity in adjustment to cultural surroundings,” and that it's usually a slow and unconscious process. I believe that there's an alternative to the latter portion of that definition--that while often times it is an unconscious process, adaptation is also a learned skill.

I came to Korea almost four years ago with no expectations and not much clue as to what the culture would be like. I really believe that that was the best way for me to come here, but it has been a crazy journey. I've gone through more mental tug-of-wars, more challenges to who I am, and more lengthy thought processes than I ever could have imagined.

My Nana asked me during my first year here if I was feeling more comfortable here than I had at first. I told her that that “comfortable” was a hard thing to define, because while I had created (and still have) a good life here, Korea did not (and still doesn’t, in a lot of respects) fit with who I am. The values are different here than everything I grew up with, everything I was surrounded with at home and even at college, and I've had to decide what things to which I want to adapt and what things I don't. Among the latter is the fact that much behavior here, specifically among the younger generation, is driven by a need to have a perfect appearance and the right status in society. But that’s a topic that will get its own post.

Moving to a new culture and making a life in it is a weird challenge to who you are as a person. No one wants to change aspects of who they are that they like, but you have to be willing to adapt somewhat if you want to truly live as part of the culture in which you've placed yourself. Korea probably represents a love-hate relationship for a lot of foreigners. It’s a country and a life in which we meet awesome people, in which we have crazy, stupid, unforgettable adventures, and in which there are some truly beautiful places. I love Korea for all of that, and it is, and will always be, a huge part of who I am.

However, we still have days that drive us nuts. There are days in which every minute, microscopic cultural difference gets under our skin and establishes residency--in which we probably shouldn’t carry an umbrella around, even if it’s raining, because we might just smack someone with it.

My instinct is to say that days like that are frustrating because they’re not a true representation of our experience here. A more true statement, though, is that life has days like that. Being here is not a singular experience in our lives; these are our lives right now. And let’s be honest, everyone has “I hate life” days. Everyone has days in which they just need work to be done so they can go home for the day or in which every person they encounter somehow rubs them the wrong way, no matter what continent you live on. And I’ve been here long enough that I know how things work. Four years in a place seems like plenty of time to adapt to the differences. It seems like people pushing to get into the subway before people have gotten out of it, or my boss waiting until the last minute to tell me about something I’m required to attend, or the cashier at Paris Baguette telling me I can’t get a certain kind of dressing with my salad because “it doesn’t go with that salad”, should be things that I am now used to and can handle as a part of life here. But that’s not always the case.

When I’m having one of those days, the way I’ve coped is to push back. To give the ajumma crowding the subway door a little hip-check on my way out. To tell my boss that I already had plans, even if I didn’t. To stand in front of the Paris Baguette cashier until she relents and lets me get the dressing I wanted. They feel like small victories and they make me feel better about the situation, but doing them has allowed me to become slightly bitter toward Korea, especially as I continue to be here longer. So this month I gave myself the goal of being nice to everyone, even those who are rude to me. It has been challenging to say the least; I get pushed around at least four times a day just during the subway portion of my commute to work, and it’s so hard not to push back. But as I’ve been working on this, and thinking about adaptation, I am beginning to see an alternative method of coping.

The other night OJ and I had some friends over for dinner, and the group was mostly foreigners. At one point in the night, the conversation shifted to things that annoy us or that we don’t understand about Korea/Korean people. This is pretty much the norm when you get a bunch of foreigners together; as a collective group, we tend to talk a lot about the cultural differences that affect our everyday life. That night, however, I noticed something that I’ve noticed before but haven’t given a lot of thought to: while we complain about these things, it’s also a source of amusement. We have the ability to laugh at the absurdity that is entwined with the frustration. That to me is a sign of the ability to adapt. Adaptation is always a balancing act and is at times a difficult task. Here in Korea, it is a balance between acknowledging the differences and letting go of our frustration so that we can enjoy life, and pushing back enough so that we’re not giving up all of who we are. And for us as foreigners here, finding the humor in the disconnect between our culture and this one--whether it’s how strange we are here or how strange here is to us--is a necessary skill to have in order to live our lives contentedly.

I haven’t gotten around to going through my latest pictures yet, but I will post them with next month’s blog. I hope that you’ve all had a good month and that spring gets to wherever you are soon :)

Love and hugs,
Heather