August and September’s word is 기억해요, or “remember.”
It’s 10:30 on Saturday night, and I’m Starchild from Kiss, sitting on a couch in my favorite bar. The Demon is next to me taking a quick nap. Our friends Catman and Spaceman are wandering around talking to ajummas, ninja turtles, and the cast of the “Hot Cheetos and Takis” video, among others. I am exhausted; several hours of scavenger hunting around Busan taking pictures and videos of ourselves doing random things like playing leap-frog with ajosshis and leading some college kids in the “Gangnam Style” dance have got me feeling like I’m too old for this. We’ve been here for four hours and we have another half hour to go until winners are announced, and all I want is to go home and sleep. But we’re staying because we know we’ve got the Best Costume prize wrapped up, and hearing our names announced is going to make the exhaustion worth it.
Fast forward to 10:30 on Monday morning. I’m laying in bed because Typhoon Sanba has given us the day off of work. Mandu is curled up under the covers between OJ and I because his two favorite things are snuggling in soft blankets and being wherever we are. I’m thinking back to Saturday night, bothered by how it was all I could do to stay awake on the couch (let alone wander around and be social). I’m remembering a similar event that I participated in when I lived in Seoul, and thinking about how different I felt at the same point in the evening back then.
I was, of course, three years younger and in my first year in Korea. In the span of most lifetimes, three years isn’t so much. But in the span of my four years here, it’s huge. And understanding both of those things is what has made me think about the importance of remembering.
Remember why you came.
Everyone here has a story of how they came to be in this place. For me, it started with a feeling of needing to get out of Harrisonburg--a town that had been my home for five years, a town that I loved, but a town that was starting to close in on me--and ended five weeks later when I got off of a plane in Incheon with Ellie. She said, “Hey, let’s go to Korea!” one night during a conversation in the living room. I got up, got a glass of water from the kitchen, and came back to say, “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Sounds simple, but even though I reached that decision after about twenty seconds of contemplation, it was the best decision I’ve ever made. I can’t honestly remember what went through my head in that short time. But it felt like the right response to Ellie, and it turned out that there were several reasons to make glad I didn’t change my mind. Everyone has their reasons for coming here: the adventure of the unknown, the possibility of travel, the money to help pay off student loans, and the freedom offered by a brand-new place. OJ came to take the place of a fellow Marine who would have been separated from his family for a year. Some friends from EMU came after they heard Ellie’s and my stories and thought they’d like a similar experience. These, and a hundred others I might never hear, are why we came.
Remember why you stayed.
The reasons that bring us here are usually the same ones that keep us: the adventures we realize we can have, the knowledge that tons of amazing countries are just a few hours’ flight away, the image of student loan balances dropping thousands in a couple of months, and the freedom we come to enjoy.
Other times, what makes us stay is what we discover in the course of daily life: the little kids that launch themselves at us as soon we walk in the classroom door, laughing with Korean co-teachers at things that are funny in any language, smiles shared with the Family Mart cashier whose store we pass every day.
And still other times, we stay for the special things that Korea gives us: family on the other side of the world, sunsets over mountains and beaches in the same city, and the hundreds of people you pass on streets and sit next to on subways whose stories you’ll never know that remind you how big the world is.
Remember that you’re leaving.
This is the one that inspires the others. A realization that time is limited can push anyone to change or to action, or at least to a shift in perspective. I don’t have any specific statistics, but I can say fairly confidently that the vast majority of foreigners who come here don’t make it their permanent home. Whether we stay for a year or four or ten, at some point we head back to where we came from, or head on to a new place. The end result is the same--we leave.
There have been so many times in the past several weeks when I’ve felt like I’m just ready to go. Whether it’s feeling like I’m exhausted all the time, or being frustrated yet again at something I can’t change about the culture, I want to move on. But I’ve been making myself stop and think about that desire and realize that I will be moving on in just six short months. In the span of my four years here, that’s a small amount of time. Understanding this is what pushed me to think about why I came and why I stayed, to keep remembering the things that I tend to forget, and to be thankful for every good thing, big or small, that has been added to my life by coming to Korea.
Remembering that there will be goodbyes is, I think, the most crucial part to being present. The other morning I was looking through old stuff on Facebook and found this status I posted when I left two Octobers ago:
“could not have asked for a better send-off. busan chingus, i love you all to death and i can’t wait till our paths cross again, whether it’s back here in january or whenever life feels like it’s time. thank you so, so much for one of the best years of my life. until next time~ 사랑해요. america, see you in a few...”
When I posted that, I was headed to the States for a few months and then coming back to a new job here. It was only a temporary absence, but it was so bittersweet to go. I was going home to friends and family I hadn’t seen in a year and who I missed a lot, but I was leaving people who had, as I wrote, made that year one of the best of my life. The knowledge that I want to have the same feeling when I leave for good, with OJ and Mandu and four years of growth, love, and memories and headed to a new adventure, instills in my mind the perspective I need.
I hope this finds you all enjoying some beautiful fall weather like we are in Korea. Below are links to photos from my parents' visit to Korea :)
Love and miss you all,
Heather
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.550521834159.2028046.148800130&type=1&l=c4284d9fe0
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.550531559669.2028047.148800130&type=1&l=68c6e8877f
