In recent weeks I have struggled quite a bit lately with Korea, with who she is and who she is to me. There are several things which have annoyed, frustrated, and offended me, and I’ve found it hard to get past these things. I think this is only natural--Korea on the surface as a lifestyle for foreign English teachers is fairly blissful; however, the things you find underneath if you’re open to understanding this culture and society are of a flavor that’s rather unsavory to a Western-bred palate. As I’ve now been here for two-plus years, during which time I’ve tried to get to know Korea and to understand this place I’m calling home, I’ve gotten to the under-layers and I’ve not liked everything I’ve seen. This has caused some anger within me, not in the least because of how said under-layers have been demonstrated repeatedly, sometimes on a daily basis. All I’ve wanted to do lately is give my director a piece of my mind, push back at every Korean who elbows me out of the way, and scream “Who ARE you people??” at the top of my lungs...this is no way to live but it’s how I’ve felt and I haven’t been able to get past it.
Then three things happened to force me into a mental shift:
1. I saw a link my friend posted to an essay called “The Awakening.” As I read through it, I felt like the author was speaking directly to me in several places, penning sentences that I need to hear now more than ever and countering every one of my angry thoughts with a “but have you thought about it this way?” Because I’ve come to feel like Korea is my home, I’ve started to take the things that bother me about it as personal offenses. This isn’t right--while I don’t understand the why of things here sometimes, I know the how of things, the way things are. I know that things are never done in what my mind considers to be a logical manner. I know that things I see as simple are very rarely seen the same way by those with whom I interact. And I know these two things to be true: that accepting these things makes life flow much more smoothly and that I can only compromise so much. The latter is the issue preceding all the others--that the longer I am here learning and getting to know what “here” is, the more I’ve had to compromise my feelings and perspective to keep the peace, with little to no compromise from what I’ve viewed as “the other side.” To view it as “the other side,” however, is not the way I want to view it. Yes, there are cultural and societal differences, but at the base we are all humans.
2. I had some ridiculously amazing times with my friends here that more than cancelled out the mess that’s been my school lately. I may not ever have gotten any compromise from my director in return for all the concessions I’ve made for her, but balance does exist. And it exists in the happiest form here, with some of the most awesome people I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. They have truly made this a year that I won’t forget anytime soon.
3. I was reminded by a friend back home during a conversation about me coming back to Korea that “sometimes things do go well.” This is something that I’ve not been able to accept given how thoroughly cynical I’m feeling after a year under an extremely incompetent and disrespectful boss. But life’s looking up--I’ve almost officially (waiting for immi to come through with a visa for me...fingers crossed!) been hired at a school that I think will be the exact opposite of my current school in several ways. I’ll be working with two awesome guy friends and living around the corner from the school in an area that’s closer to everything I want in my life here. I’m also waiting to see if my director has paid up on the nine or so months worth of pension she owes. Two days till I hear about that. I’m trying to think positively about both of these things instead of worrying that things won’t work out. I’ve spent 11 months worrying about job issues; my last week here should be free from that kind of thing.
All that said, as I sit here--a week from being on a plane back to the States for a bit--there are a few letters I’ve been meaning to write...
Dear certain Korean hagwon directors,
I wish there was a course which you were required to take before being allowed to open an academy here, one that included the most basic of information on how to run a business and how to interact with people. So many of you are so painfully uninformed on these things and it makes it very, very hard to a) trust you as a boss and b) stay motivated to do our jobs.
Yes, we make a choice to come here, but that choice exists because you’ve created it by inviting us. We come to provide instruction as native speakers of English; that’s the cover story, anyway. We all know full well (or we learn rather quickly) that we’re really here to be a pretty face for your academy and to keep the parents happy and the money coming in. We get that, and we come here accepting it. Although there’s a huge variance in how involved we get in the culture and in society once we’re here, at the very least we come to work, do what you ask of us, and go home. Some of us go well beyond that into studying Korean, making Korean friends, and trying to understand the way things are here. Whatever our degree of involvement, however, we compromise a lot of who we are as Westerners and the way we are used to doing things in the name of avoiding tension.
We adjust to fit your culture and your hierarchical social system--we defer to ajummas and ajosshis because they’re older, we acquiesce to you as directors because you’re “right” even when you’re not...and for what? In return you often treat us like dirt, you decline to give us the smallest shred of respect, you make no effort whatsoever to understand a little bit about who we are. I’m not sure you’re aware even in the tiniest regard how many of us are turned to cynics and how many of us leave hating you (and not entirely sold on Korea as a country) due to our interactions with you. In a place where so much is different from what we know, we want our job to be the one consistent thing--the one piece of stability in our otherwise crazy lives. When it instead is the thing that causes the most stress in our lives, well, that definitely doesn’t make us very motivated. If you’d make the smallest effort to understand us, or at least show that you’re willing to try, it’d have a bigger impact than you could know. And maybe you honestly don’t realize this--I’m willing to accept that as being the case, as we often don’t realize how you work either--but foreign teachers have been coming here for years, we’re going to be here awhile longer, and there needs to be a shift in the mentality toward us if we’re all to coexist. Can we break the vicious cycle?
Dear Koreans who have understood me, stood up for me, and been a breath of fresh air from the issues I’ve encountered here this year, and everyone at home who’s supported me across 7000 miles,
Thank you. It has meant more than you can know.
Dear Busan,
당신 내 도시 이에요--사랑해요. 내가 곧 다시 올 거에요.
Dear Hadan family, Gwangali volleyball crew, and everyone in between,
You are truly fantastic people who have made my life here the best that it could be. I am so glad to have met each of you, and know that our paths will cross again in life, if not when I return in January. I have some of the best memories ever from time spent with you all this past year and wish you all the most happiness possible along whatever path you’re traveling. I love you guys.
And some links to recent photo albums before I sign off for the (temporary) last time in Korea:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2020217&id=148800130&l=0b9169e802
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2020387&id=148800130&l=b91239cde9
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2020422&id=148800130&l=15c27f8d1f
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2020423&id=148800130&l=1872f172ab
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2020541&id=148800130&l=1a30c9ab03
Chau for now,
Heather
13 October 2010
11 August 2010
the things that follow
I spent the last week of July on vacation in China; it was the first time since returning to Korea in October that I'd left the peninsula, and it was good. I knew I needed out of my Korean life for a bit--I'd needed out of it for several weeks--but the escape ended up pushing me into thought rather than, as I’d expected, allowing me to just zone out. The things that I’d been dealing with and working through back in Busan went and followed me to Beijing. I realized this and thought, “No. I'm going to just be here and enjoy here, because who knows if I'll make it back to China?” Easier said than done, however, so I found myself thinking and processing on top of the Great Wall...in a corridor in the Forbidden City...by a lake in the Summer Palace...
The truth of travel, which I understand more fully the longer I do it, is that it more often than not ends up bringing us deeper into ourselves. The new things, the absurdities and differences (big and small) that I encounter while away from what I know...they contrast with how I am who I am regardless of my environment to force me into facing myself. Annoying? A bit. Challenging? Usually. Necessary? Absolutely. And I think all of that is why I love traveling so much--it gives me the changes in surroundings that I need in order to grow while allowing me a home base for the continuity that I need in order to relate that growth back to something.
That week, while it wasn’t an escape from thoughts, was still an escape. A change in environment is what I needed, and Beijing was that. It looks and feels different from Busan in many ways; between all the smog and chaotic traffic lies a certain feeling (“international” is the word that comes to mind, but I’m not sure that’s entirely correct) that is noticeably less existent in Korea. It hit me soon after arriving in Beijing--foreign residents and tourists everywhere, tapas restaurants and hookah bars lining an old street around the corner from the Forbidden City, and a visible lack of conformity to what is “right” or “proper” or “expected.” At the same time, though, China felt much more Asian to me than Korea really has. By that I mean that there is an undercurrent of history and identity running below all the modern buildings and the millions of people going about their lives. China is a country who knows who it is (for better or worse), and that is something with which Korea struggles. To go from a country that is like a rebellious teenager, having been in existence for such a short time and wanting desperately to become like all the cooler older people around it, to a country that is more like a grandmother, having had a long life and knowing and accepting herself...it provided a lot of food for thought about my own identity and the things that (I allow to) shape it, and for how I live my life.
I have struggled lately with truly being where I am. The other day I found myself wishing that it was a couple weeks from now so that I could know what was happening next and so that a few situations bothering me would no longer be relevant. I heard myself saying that, though, and had to take a step back. I’m repeatedly getting smacked in the face with the fact that I need to work on being. here. now. It’s a lesson I’ve been trying to learn since I got back to Korea in October, one that I know is necessary but somehow have failed to let fully sink in and put into practice the way I’d like to. Life is nothing if not continually moving, though, and I want to continue to move with it and keep learning. I’m less than three months from the end of my contract, and these last few months have the potential to be amazing. This is probably the best possible time I could have been reminded (yet again) of this lesson; I want life here to be as great as it can be right now, and I’m the only thing that’s going to stand in the way of that. My reactions to situations, my feelings about life and about uncertainty...I need to get past those to a place where I just live.
At the moment I am entirely unsure where I will be when my contract ends in ten weeks. I was going to do another year in Korea, and maybe I still will, but I am thinking long and hard about whether or not this is the best place for me right now. I’m waiting to hear about jobs as well, and probably won’t know about those until sometime in September. That’s frustrating, but I can’t change it. What’s there to do, then, but soak in everything I can about life here and be as present as possible? Said in terms of weeks, the time I know for sure that I have left here feels like nothing. There are reasons for everything we feel, everything we go through--I’m realizing over again as I write this that the crazy amounts of “meh”ness I’ve felt toward life and its seeming inability to get itself sorted in the time frame I think it should were partly based on there being no limit to it, no set end point. The way I was feeling was indefinite in that I didn’t have something to motivate me out of feeling that way. There was nothing that made me smack myself in the face instead of waiting for life to do it for me. Now I’ve got that motivation, and I’m beginning to actually understand the importance of truly being present rather than just seeing it and thinking it looks like a nice way to live. What I now see is the contrast, and that makes me appreciate the change so much more.
This post has been in process from the day I returned from China until now, and has gone through several edits in that time. As I read back over it, I see that I’ve come full circle from where I wanted to be mentally while in China to where I actually am now mentally back in Busan. The fact that traveling and returning has given me the insight I needed only proves to me again the necessity of flowing with life and being present on the journey--there is much to be learned and appreciated in every place to which we take off, every base to which we return, and everywhere in between.
I hope this finds you all well and in places that are considerably less typhoon-y than Busan is at the moment. Links to my recent photos, including those from my trip to China, are below (sorry, there are a lot). Enjoy!
Annyeong,
Heather
Apparently I've taken a lot of pictures lately...
From the neighborhood:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017405&id=148800130&l=d9f86ffc99
Fun around Busan and elsewhere on the weekends and in between:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017693&id=148800130&l=20d3392977
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017715&id=148800130&l=b51f1300aa
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017716&id=148800130&l=5f1de8234c
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017958&id=148800130&l=ca8493c43a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017959&id=148800130&l=6389c89972
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017961&id=148800130&l=1edc7a21bc
Mudfest:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018081&id=148800130&l=b427594ac4
China:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018253&id=148800130&l=e3e66c2958
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018258&id=148800130&l=e722f6d7d2
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018259&id=148800130&l=1f76fb44c8
The truth of travel, which I understand more fully the longer I do it, is that it more often than not ends up bringing us deeper into ourselves. The new things, the absurdities and differences (big and small) that I encounter while away from what I know...they contrast with how I am who I am regardless of my environment to force me into facing myself. Annoying? A bit. Challenging? Usually. Necessary? Absolutely. And I think all of that is why I love traveling so much--it gives me the changes in surroundings that I need in order to grow while allowing me a home base for the continuity that I need in order to relate that growth back to something.
That week, while it wasn’t an escape from thoughts, was still an escape. A change in environment is what I needed, and Beijing was that. It looks and feels different from Busan in many ways; between all the smog and chaotic traffic lies a certain feeling (“international” is the word that comes to mind, but I’m not sure that’s entirely correct) that is noticeably less existent in Korea. It hit me soon after arriving in Beijing--foreign residents and tourists everywhere, tapas restaurants and hookah bars lining an old street around the corner from the Forbidden City, and a visible lack of conformity to what is “right” or “proper” or “expected.” At the same time, though, China felt much more Asian to me than Korea really has. By that I mean that there is an undercurrent of history and identity running below all the modern buildings and the millions of people going about their lives. China is a country who knows who it is (for better or worse), and that is something with which Korea struggles. To go from a country that is like a rebellious teenager, having been in existence for such a short time and wanting desperately to become like all the cooler older people around it, to a country that is more like a grandmother, having had a long life and knowing and accepting herself...it provided a lot of food for thought about my own identity and the things that (I allow to) shape it, and for how I live my life.
I have struggled lately with truly being where I am. The other day I found myself wishing that it was a couple weeks from now so that I could know what was happening next and so that a few situations bothering me would no longer be relevant. I heard myself saying that, though, and had to take a step back. I’m repeatedly getting smacked in the face with the fact that I need to work on being. here. now. It’s a lesson I’ve been trying to learn since I got back to Korea in October, one that I know is necessary but somehow have failed to let fully sink in and put into practice the way I’d like to. Life is nothing if not continually moving, though, and I want to continue to move with it and keep learning. I’m less than three months from the end of my contract, and these last few months have the potential to be amazing. This is probably the best possible time I could have been reminded (yet again) of this lesson; I want life here to be as great as it can be right now, and I’m the only thing that’s going to stand in the way of that. My reactions to situations, my feelings about life and about uncertainty...I need to get past those to a place where I just live.
At the moment I am entirely unsure where I will be when my contract ends in ten weeks. I was going to do another year in Korea, and maybe I still will, but I am thinking long and hard about whether or not this is the best place for me right now. I’m waiting to hear about jobs as well, and probably won’t know about those until sometime in September. That’s frustrating, but I can’t change it. What’s there to do, then, but soak in everything I can about life here and be as present as possible? Said in terms of weeks, the time I know for sure that I have left here feels like nothing. There are reasons for everything we feel, everything we go through--I’m realizing over again as I write this that the crazy amounts of “meh”ness I’ve felt toward life and its seeming inability to get itself sorted in the time frame I think it should were partly based on there being no limit to it, no set end point. The way I was feeling was indefinite in that I didn’t have something to motivate me out of feeling that way. There was nothing that made me smack myself in the face instead of waiting for life to do it for me. Now I’ve got that motivation, and I’m beginning to actually understand the importance of truly being present rather than just seeing it and thinking it looks like a nice way to live. What I now see is the contrast, and that makes me appreciate the change so much more.
This post has been in process from the day I returned from China until now, and has gone through several edits in that time. As I read back over it, I see that I’ve come full circle from where I wanted to be mentally while in China to where I actually am now mentally back in Busan. The fact that traveling and returning has given me the insight I needed only proves to me again the necessity of flowing with life and being present on the journey--there is much to be learned and appreciated in every place to which we take off, every base to which we return, and everywhere in between.
I hope this finds you all well and in places that are considerably less typhoon-y than Busan is at the moment. Links to my recent photos, including those from my trip to China, are below (sorry, there are a lot). Enjoy!
Annyeong,
Heather
Apparently I've taken a lot of pictures lately...
From the neighborhood:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017405&id=148800130&l=d9f86ffc99
Fun around Busan and elsewhere on the weekends and in between:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017693&id=148800130&l=20d3392977
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017715&id=148800130&l=b51f1300aa
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017716&id=148800130&l=5f1de8234c
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017958&id=148800130&l=ca8493c43a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017959&id=148800130&l=6389c89972
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017961&id=148800130&l=1edc7a21bc
Mudfest:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018081&id=148800130&l=b427594ac4
China:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018253&id=148800130&l=e3e66c2958
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018258&id=148800130&l=e722f6d7d2
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018259&id=148800130&l=1f76fb44c8
08 June 2010
the ninth cloud
There's been a warmth in the air and in my soul lately, and I can't help but feel like I've finally arrived...arrived in Busan, at my happy place in Korea, in the life that I've needed to find. It's been, as my good friend Alex called it, "springtime of the soul," and it feels so good. This is what I've been waiting for, what I think I expected to have way back in October when I physically arrived here. It's now seven and a half months from then and I don't even care that it's taken so long. This feeling was worth the wait. This is true happiness and a sense of life in its purest form--in which I am experiencing, feeling, processing everything--and a deep gratitude for having arrived at this place extends to the very core of me.
This feeling is a product of more than one thing for sure: the longest winter ever (in a literal and metaphorical sense) and its subsequent coming to an end, an open mind to the reasons for the way things are, finally learning to accept what I can't change. When I came back to Korea, I knew there was a possibility that the crap I dealt with the first time would come up again, and I wanted to know if I could handle it better if that was the case. It did, and I have. I'm still figuring out exactly what that looks like, but it feels good to know that I am able to see all the stupid stuff here as something other than ridiculous; as, instead, a chance to practice cross-cultural understanding and interpersonal relations. Don't get me wrong--there are definitely moments in which I'd really love to throw up my hands and get on a plane back to what I used to know as normal. But those are just moments now, instead of the days (or sometimes weeks) that they were last year, and they're coming fewer and farther between. And that realization proves to me that coming back here was a good choice...a realization I needed to have which makes the processing of the first several months back here settle more quickly. I know that even if I hadn't arrived at this amazing place mentally/physically/emotionally, I'd still be able to find value in the struggles of the past seven months. But I think it would have been much slower in coming. Last time, a lot of the processing I did that allowed me to find value in my experiences (both good and bad) in Seoul happened well after I'd returned to the States. Some even took until this return to Korea to occur. This time around I'm doing so much more of it while I'm here, and it's such a good feeling because I know I'm growing here, and as I do that I know that it's in more ways than I ever could have hoped.
Life isn't perfect here, of course. Nowhere is that the case, and there will always be a little bit more that we wish for. But here it's finally gotten pretty darn close. My past six weekends have been spent almost entirely on Gwangali Beach, playing volleyball with a group of awesome people, under gloriously blue skies filled with sunshine...a routine I've been waiting for since I got here in October. My first and closest friend in Busan, Carly, has returned for a second contract after being gone for six weeks. The kids have been off the wall but I haven't cared. My new good friend Candace and I have been having hilariously awesome times while settling into our beach bum routines. If the only things I could really ask for are pension and a pay stub, I think life's pretty good.
If I could bottle up this feeling and send everyone a little taste of it, I would. It's sunshine and sandy toes and warm breezes and pint-sized smiles. There is a beautiful contentment in my soul and I am happy.
So may your worries, may your worries never fall too loud
May you stay here, may you stay here
Happy in your own skin, on the ninth cloud
Oh, to every warning
where these ships had passed through, years before
Bolder now, than a brand new morning
the sun on your face, the bruise and the breaks of these careless arms
...So hold your body, hold your body strong in these winds of life
This life'll move you with every step outside...
This life'll move you as graceful as a tide
Oh it's alright it's alright
Loosen the fears that bind you, loosen the fears that bind you
-a few lines from "cloud nine" by ben howard
I'm now only four and a half months from the end of my contract, and what to do next has been on my mind a lot recently. The first two decisions I made regarding Korea (the initial choice to come, and the subsequent one to come back) were made completely on what felt right, and this one is no different. I have felt more than ever lately that Busan is where I am supposed to be right now. This place, through everything it's been for me over these past seven and a half months, has affected my perspective on myself and everything around me and has pushed me to step outside of who I thought I was into who I am becoming. And this is not where I'm going to be forever, but it's where I want to be for awhile longer. That idea scared me a bit when I came back for the second time, because I was very aware that life in Korea doesn't just flow through time like in the States, where you have a job, you have a life, and you just live it until you change things. Here, by default, is broken up into sections that you have to string together if you want to create some semblance of what used to be normal. It's a connecting process that happens on a mental and emotional level to transcend the twelve-month contracts and temporary friends, and it's something that is difficult to do. But I feel like I am finally learning how to settle into that flow; it's a good thing that I am not ready to disrupt. And so here I sit looking at a third year in Korea, completely surprised and yet, somehow, entirely not.
Despite how great things are here, I do miss you all and want to remind you that the door to my apartment is always open for overseas visitors :) Below are links to my recent photo albums; more should be coming within the next few weeks as well. Love and hugs to everyone!
Annyeong,
Heather
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016971&id=148800130&l=6c4d383c7a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017288&id=148800130&l=1cc25523a4
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017290&id=148800130&l=285b6548fb
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017405&id=148800130&l=d9f86ffc99
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017471&id=148800130&l=8c90d321df
This feeling is a product of more than one thing for sure: the longest winter ever (in a literal and metaphorical sense) and its subsequent coming to an end, an open mind to the reasons for the way things are, finally learning to accept what I can't change. When I came back to Korea, I knew there was a possibility that the crap I dealt with the first time would come up again, and I wanted to know if I could handle it better if that was the case. It did, and I have. I'm still figuring out exactly what that looks like, but it feels good to know that I am able to see all the stupid stuff here as something other than ridiculous; as, instead, a chance to practice cross-cultural understanding and interpersonal relations. Don't get me wrong--there are definitely moments in which I'd really love to throw up my hands and get on a plane back to what I used to know as normal. But those are just moments now, instead of the days (or sometimes weeks) that they were last year, and they're coming fewer and farther between. And that realization proves to me that coming back here was a good choice...a realization I needed to have which makes the processing of the first several months back here settle more quickly. I know that even if I hadn't arrived at this amazing place mentally/physically/emotionally, I'd still be able to find value in the struggles of the past seven months. But I think it would have been much slower in coming. Last time, a lot of the processing I did that allowed me to find value in my experiences (both good and bad) in Seoul happened well after I'd returned to the States. Some even took until this return to Korea to occur. This time around I'm doing so much more of it while I'm here, and it's such a good feeling because I know I'm growing here, and as I do that I know that it's in more ways than I ever could have hoped.
Life isn't perfect here, of course. Nowhere is that the case, and there will always be a little bit more that we wish for. But here it's finally gotten pretty darn close. My past six weekends have been spent almost entirely on Gwangali Beach, playing volleyball with a group of awesome people, under gloriously blue skies filled with sunshine...a routine I've been waiting for since I got here in October. My first and closest friend in Busan, Carly, has returned for a second contract after being gone for six weeks. The kids have been off the wall but I haven't cared. My new good friend Candace and I have been having hilariously awesome times while settling into our beach bum routines. If the only things I could really ask for are pension and a pay stub, I think life's pretty good.
If I could bottle up this feeling and send everyone a little taste of it, I would. It's sunshine and sandy toes and warm breezes and pint-sized smiles. There is a beautiful contentment in my soul and I am happy.
So may your worries, may your worries never fall too loud
May you stay here, may you stay here
Happy in your own skin, on the ninth cloud
Oh, to every warning
where these ships had passed through, years before
Bolder now, than a brand new morning
the sun on your face, the bruise and the breaks of these careless arms
...So hold your body, hold your body strong in these winds of life
This life'll move you with every step outside...
This life'll move you as graceful as a tide
Oh it's alright it's alright
Loosen the fears that bind you, loosen the fears that bind you
-a few lines from "cloud nine" by ben howard
I'm now only four and a half months from the end of my contract, and what to do next has been on my mind a lot recently. The first two decisions I made regarding Korea (the initial choice to come, and the subsequent one to come back) were made completely on what felt right, and this one is no different. I have felt more than ever lately that Busan is where I am supposed to be right now. This place, through everything it's been for me over these past seven and a half months, has affected my perspective on myself and everything around me and has pushed me to step outside of who I thought I was into who I am becoming. And this is not where I'm going to be forever, but it's where I want to be for awhile longer. That idea scared me a bit when I came back for the second time, because I was very aware that life in Korea doesn't just flow through time like in the States, where you have a job, you have a life, and you just live it until you change things. Here, by default, is broken up into sections that you have to string together if you want to create some semblance of what used to be normal. It's a connecting process that happens on a mental and emotional level to transcend the twelve-month contracts and temporary friends, and it's something that is difficult to do. But I feel like I am finally learning how to settle into that flow; it's a good thing that I am not ready to disrupt. And so here I sit looking at a third year in Korea, completely surprised and yet, somehow, entirely not.
Despite how great things are here, I do miss you all and want to remind you that the door to my apartment is always open for overseas visitors :) Below are links to my recent photo albums; more should be coming within the next few weeks as well. Love and hugs to everyone!
Annyeong,
Heather
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016971&id=148800130&l=6c4d383c7a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017288&id=148800130&l=1cc25523a4
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017290&id=148800130&l=285b6548fb
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017405&id=148800130&l=d9f86ffc99
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2017471&id=148800130&l=8c90d321df
19 April 2010
sacrifices and senses of entitlement
Anyone who's ever lived in or been to a foreign country will tell you that a lot of challenges arise when you step into something unfamiliar. Anyone who's been to the same foreign country more than once will also tell you that these challenges don't necessarily go away the more you are there, regardless of how less unfamiliar a place grows to you. They may change or they may stay the same, but they definitely don't leave.
This has been true on the deepest levels for me as I've returned to this strange land they call South Korea. One thing in particular I've been thinking about a lot lately came up because of 아줌마, or ajummas, and 아저씨, or ajosshis...aka the older women and men that wander the busses and subways, pushing people out of the way like they have no right to be in their path. The first several times I got elbowed by one, my immediate reaction was of anger and disbelief ("What the...? Who does she think she is?? Just because she's old doesn't mean she gets to treat people like that!" and so on). I didn't think it was right that older people in this country had such a sense of entitlement in regards to how they could act, based solely on their age. The challenge for me then was to control how I reacted to their actions by just brushing it off and not letting it get to me. The longer I was here, though, the more I began to understand the reasons behind their behavior and its relation to the behavior of those around them who were younger. And as I better understood that, the challenge for me was to try to see myself from their point of view: younger by a lot, and a foreigner to boot--someone who in many of their eyes didn't belong in their country. Now, at the midpoint of my second year here, I have begun to react in a different manner; to not just understand their behavior and my own but to think about what both mean in allowing us to coexist. The challenge I face now (or rather have given myself) is to take a closer look at myself and see my own sense of entitlement that I, as a foreigner, have carried around.
Talk to almost any new (or, occasionally, not so new) expat in Korea and you'll see it right away. We step off the planes from our respective countries expecting, in varying degrees, that things will continue as they always have for us. Yes, we know there will be differences, but I think we expect that in most cases they will be only little changes in our daily life. And, in most cases, we will be right. But what we don't necessarily anticipate is that some of these little things will end up being bigger frustrations than we'd planned for. The pushiness of elderly people on the subway, the sea of similar faces around us, the difficulties in communicating...things that cause us to realize there's a lot we took for granted back home. To me that is such a blessing in disguise, though--the things that frustrate us are also the things through which we can learn the most if we're open to it.
The sense of entitlement that foreigners carry with them here comes in the form of walking in here like we own the place, expecting things to be how we think they should, expecting that the Koreans around us will understand that we're different and why and that people will be accommodating. All this in order for us to have the time of our lives in this crazy new country, making good money and traveling and having cool new adventures. And those things do happen, in large part due to the effort that we put in to making them. But that confident attitude and a desire to live life to the fullest can also be our downfall if it becomes overconfidence or cockiness, and a desire for things to go the way we plan for them to go. If we're not able to stay open to the possibility of things sometimes honestly just sucking, and to the inevitabilities of being embarrassed, committing a cultural faux pas or several, and realizing it's not always as easy here as we thought it was going to be.
All of us learn pretty early on that our sense of entitlement is a false one. There's not much we really can expect to be handed here, and even less ways in which we can expect to be accommodated. We find that out the day we arrive, or at least our first day at work. The thing is, though, we're not entitled to feel entitled anyway. In making the choice to be here, we've be default also chosen to accept whatever "here" means.
That's theoretical, of course :) It's not easy nor is it always possible to accept what frustrates us about the situations in which we wanted to be. But there is a subsequent choice, one that's not by default, and it's the one that turns theoretical into practical and practical into valuable. There is a lot that we sacrifice by entering a place and a life different (to any extent) from what we've always known and what is familiar to us. For me, in Korea, the biggest sacrifice has been the community that I've always had around me--first with church and family as I grew up and later with friends and some extended family at EMU. This was the case last time and I knew it would be again this time, but I thought I would welcome it as an opportunity to get to know myself better and rely on myself more, to become stronger as a person. Instead, although I continued to enjoy myself, I became lonely and threw myself into whatever connections were easiest, regardless of whether or not they were solid. There are a few people close to me who bore the brunt of that; for some, it's meant relying more heavily than I probably should have on their friendship, and for others, it's meant an inability to stay in touch as I hoped to. To those people (I hope you know who you are), I both thank you and apologize if my doing either the former or the latter has created any strain. I feel like I've learned so much in the past months, yet I have so much further to go. I am only just now, at the halfway point of this second contract, coming to truly appreciate where I find myself for what it is to me: a time in my life in which I can discover what it means to create my own happiness. See what it looks like to do the things I love and really feel alive while also finding a balance in my relationships with those around me. And feel what it is to make the choice (and this is the one that makes all the difference) to take the sacrifices that come with living in Korea and turn them into opportunities for growth and challenge.
This is not something that's going to be particularly easy for me. As I read over those last few sentences, I know this is an adjustment in perspective that will require more awareness than I've had so far. But it's something that I know I need to do and which I know I will emerge from stronger and more confident in who I am and where I'm going.
As always, I hope this finds you all well and happy. I can't believe that I've already been here six months; the time has dragged at times but ultimately flown by, and I fully expect the next six months to fly even faster as I settle in for a good summer in Busan. Please continue to comment on my writing and photos if you like--I really do appreciate the feedback and your thoughts. There are links to Facebook photo albums from the past couple weeks below (sorry, I know there are a lot since I haven't posted in two months...oops).
Much love and hugs to everyone,
Heather :)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016483&id=148800130&l=93e9ecd8ed
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016504&id=148800130&l=8b8440b56c
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015574&id=148800130&l=e53cb45170
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016900&id=148800130&l=f7bbb1e55b
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016901&id=148800130&l=75b53db9c1 http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016930&id=148800130&l=342f82df20
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016931&id=148800130&l=d6aad9ef3a
23 February 2010
constellations
We are not defined by singular actions we take, experiences we have, or decisions we make. As individual things, they are only pieces of who we are; they become, like all things we encounter, parts of a whole. Some of these things stay with us more intensely than others—they persist in sticking out from the rest, in refusing to blend in with everything that, combined, makes us who we are. But they always amalgamate themselves eventually, regardless of how much they do or not fade into the woodwork. There's a line in a Jack Johnson song that talks about drawing our own constellations—that to me is such a good analogy for the way we define ourselves, for how we develop our identities. Each of the decisions we make and the consequences that result, each of the experiences we have, each of the actions we take...they are merely lights in the sky, points in the greater landscape. One on its own cannot fully define us, even if it stands out as a being a bit brighter than those that surround it. And we, not those who look at us, are the ones who get to connect the dots to say “This is who I am.” People will see what they want to see, but in the end what matters is what we see when we look in the mirror. What matters is which dots we give greatest importance to in defining who we are.
That said (and I do believe in the truth of all that I just wrote), there is a question that I have been struggling with lately: Is it okay to allow where we are at a certain point in our lives to define us if doing so is the best way to truly live?
I've been so concerned lately with a few specific things I've been going through to do any processing of life as a bigger picture, but thinking about the grander scheme of things is something I value and need to do. I turn 25 tomorrow and that's got me doing some reflecting for sure...I never ever thought that I'd be in Korea at this point in my life, much less that I'd reach this age and still have absolutely no clue what I want to do with my life. I'm not saying that being here is a bad thing—there is a lot you learn about yourself by jumping headfirst into life in a country as different from what you've always known as Korea is, and that is part of the reason I came back. I knew I'd do a lot of figuring out who I am and who I want to be. But there is a difference between the initial experience and the second time around. I need to remember why I came if I want to avoid getting sucked into the attitude (one that is quite prevalent here) that it's okay to put life on hold for a year to live this carefree lifestyle. I mention these things in relation to the question I've been struggling with because while I don't know where I'm headed, I do know that I am here, in Korea, now. I've been thinking about what it means to be somewhere and be there fully...I am so luck to be here, and yet I've let a few things get in the way of appreciating that fact because I thought those things were what was most important right now. But what's important is that I'm living my life in the fullest way possible. If I'm going to be here for awhile yet with the next step remaining unclear, I need to come out of here knowing that I got everything I could out of this experience. So what does that mean for me in daily life, in the weeks and months ahead, and in the bigger picture? I think it means allowing myself to get caught up in the moments here that make Korea so unique, the things I won't experience any other time in my life, while also being conscious of what I don't want to get caught up in. It means keeping a mentality of balance—living, and at the same time staying aware of what that means to me in terms of who I am and who I want to be in the future.
So I suppose the answer to my question (if there is one) is that it's okay to allow the outside influence, as long as it is tempered both by the influence of our inner selves and with a consciousness of what effects the surrounding context has and will have on us. As always, it has come back to balance and awareness...two things Korea teaches me over and over and over again. They are good lessons to have repeated, though, because they're ones that will hold true no matter where I go in my life.
It's getting warmer here in Busan, and knowing that springtime is approaching gives me a sense of rightness. I am of the opinion that moments of mental change in our lives tend to be accompanied by an external shift of some kind that pushes the internal change just to where it needs to be, that tells us the time is right for a change. Whether it's a change in season or in environment, it is important to feel that certainty.
When I look back on what has defined me in my life so far, I see a lot of external turning points that have pushed me forward to the next step. There are not a lot of times where I see that I have been aware of changes as they've been happening; instead I have looked back from the next point and realized how I was affected. And that's okay. Reflection is good and tells us quite a bit about ourselves. But I want to be someone who can see what's affecting me as it's doing so, and to be certain in my approach to how much I am influenced and in what ways. Maybe Korea so far has been one big turning point in that regard for me; from day one it's been a place that's taught me how to be that kind of person. It's something that I am continually practicing, and that has translated into learning more the longer I am here how important that is, and how it relates to connecting my own dots. The more aware you are of yourself, your surroundings, and how the two relate, the easier it is to choose what you allow to define you. I don't say this in terms of trying to have total control over what you experience; quite the opposite: letting yourself experience everything you can and then processing what it all means to you. Directing your paths, yes, but not trying to fit the paths into places they're not meant to go. I'm learning that it's the best way to live and feel truly alive—and that is a feeling I've missed.
As you can see it's been a bit of a mentally tiring several weeks since I last wrote. But there is a change in the air and I feel like in a way my soul is returning...it's a beautiful feeling to awake to after a long winter. All that said, I have had some amazing times thrown in the mix. Below are links to Facebook photo albums of the oh-so-awesome shenanigans we get into here in Busan. Enjoy, and make sure you breathe spring in deeply when it arrives :) Miss you all lots!
Love,
Heather
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016367&id=148800130&l=0844bf1365
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016369&id=148800130&l=d887d8c7b4
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016394&id=148800130&l=b1bf19f005
That said (and I do believe in the truth of all that I just wrote), there is a question that I have been struggling with lately: Is it okay to allow where we are at a certain point in our lives to define us if doing so is the best way to truly live?
I've been so concerned lately with a few specific things I've been going through to do any processing of life as a bigger picture, but thinking about the grander scheme of things is something I value and need to do. I turn 25 tomorrow and that's got me doing some reflecting for sure...I never ever thought that I'd be in Korea at this point in my life, much less that I'd reach this age and still have absolutely no clue what I want to do with my life. I'm not saying that being here is a bad thing—there is a lot you learn about yourself by jumping headfirst into life in a country as different from what you've always known as Korea is, and that is part of the reason I came back. I knew I'd do a lot of figuring out who I am and who I want to be. But there is a difference between the initial experience and the second time around. I need to remember why I came if I want to avoid getting sucked into the attitude (one that is quite prevalent here) that it's okay to put life on hold for a year to live this carefree lifestyle. I mention these things in relation to the question I've been struggling with because while I don't know where I'm headed, I do know that I am here, in Korea, now. I've been thinking about what it means to be somewhere and be there fully...I am so luck to be here, and yet I've let a few things get in the way of appreciating that fact because I thought those things were what was most important right now. But what's important is that I'm living my life in the fullest way possible. If I'm going to be here for awhile yet with the next step remaining unclear, I need to come out of here knowing that I got everything I could out of this experience. So what does that mean for me in daily life, in the weeks and months ahead, and in the bigger picture? I think it means allowing myself to get caught up in the moments here that make Korea so unique, the things I won't experience any other time in my life, while also being conscious of what I don't want to get caught up in. It means keeping a mentality of balance—living, and at the same time staying aware of what that means to me in terms of who I am and who I want to be in the future.
So I suppose the answer to my question (if there is one) is that it's okay to allow the outside influence, as long as it is tempered both by the influence of our inner selves and with a consciousness of what effects the surrounding context has and will have on us. As always, it has come back to balance and awareness...two things Korea teaches me over and over and over again. They are good lessons to have repeated, though, because they're ones that will hold true no matter where I go in my life.
It's getting warmer here in Busan, and knowing that springtime is approaching gives me a sense of rightness. I am of the opinion that moments of mental change in our lives tend to be accompanied by an external shift of some kind that pushes the internal change just to where it needs to be, that tells us the time is right for a change. Whether it's a change in season or in environment, it is important to feel that certainty.
When I look back on what has defined me in my life so far, I see a lot of external turning points that have pushed me forward to the next step. There are not a lot of times where I see that I have been aware of changes as they've been happening; instead I have looked back from the next point and realized how I was affected. And that's okay. Reflection is good and tells us quite a bit about ourselves. But I want to be someone who can see what's affecting me as it's doing so, and to be certain in my approach to how much I am influenced and in what ways. Maybe Korea so far has been one big turning point in that regard for me; from day one it's been a place that's taught me how to be that kind of person. It's something that I am continually practicing, and that has translated into learning more the longer I am here how important that is, and how it relates to connecting my own dots. The more aware you are of yourself, your surroundings, and how the two relate, the easier it is to choose what you allow to define you. I don't say this in terms of trying to have total control over what you experience; quite the opposite: letting yourself experience everything you can and then processing what it all means to you. Directing your paths, yes, but not trying to fit the paths into places they're not meant to go. I'm learning that it's the best way to live and feel truly alive—and that is a feeling I've missed.
As you can see it's been a bit of a mentally tiring several weeks since I last wrote. But there is a change in the air and I feel like in a way my soul is returning...it's a beautiful feeling to awake to after a long winter. All that said, I have had some amazing times thrown in the mix. Below are links to Facebook photo albums of the oh-so-awesome shenanigans we get into here in Busan. Enjoy, and make sure you breathe spring in deeply when it arrives :) Miss you all lots!
Love,
Heather
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016367&id=148800130&l=0844bf1365
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016369&id=148800130&l=d887d8c7b4
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016394&id=148800130&l=b1bf19f005
04 January 2010
ups and downs and a new year
i've now been here for over two months, and that feels weird to say. half of me thinks it can't have been that long already, and the other half of me wonders where the time has gone. one thing both halves can agree on, though, is that the time so far has been full of ups and downs. it's been a constant oscillation, a struggle to balance extremes in emotions and activities. this is definitely something i went through last year as well, but the awareness of it came quite a bit further into the year. and there is a deeper intensity now in addition to that difference. when i lived in seoul, i made a life for myself and then learned to be aware of what that meant. this time, i am aware that i am here and that i am learning, but i haven't yet been able to feel like this is my life. when i look back on these first two months, they're almost a blur. a whirlwind of interactionsolitudegoodtimescrappyfeelingscontrolsurrender. and it's a bit of a struggle to keep those all defined yet relate them to each other and to not try too hard to come up with some meaning. compounding everything is the fact that i'm doing this for the second time around. last time i experienced something, felt whatever it was in the moment, and went from there. but this time that process has an extra layer—the thoughts, memories, and emotions i already have from prior similar situations—that must be accounted for as well. i have been trying harder to take things as they come, to not expect or plan for them to go a certain way, and i think i've been doing well. however, perspective (and its subsequent actions) do not cancel out memories and emotions. it allows us to better handle those things, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. and i think that is why the up and down is more pronounced this time. all these memories and emotions that i associate with korea, in respect to every aspect of life here, they come to the surface when i'm encountering and dealing with and processing things this time. the trick is, as i wrote in my last post a month ago, to take strength and wisdom from what's past and apply that, not the memories and emotions themselves, to what i encounter from here on. one thing that's been on my mind a lot lately is something i struggled with in seoul, something to which i wasn't able to put a name besides “superficiality.” here in busan i thought it wasn't as pervasive, but i've realized both that it is and that there's a better way to define it is--as “temporary.” there is nowhere i have been that is like korea...i love it and i hate it, and it is this bubble in which we live without responsibility and true connections. the quantity of connections we make here is high, but they are brief and situational, context-caused, and 99% of them won't last after we leave this place. understanding that is one thing, but accepting it is another. it makes me wonder just how i am supposed to create a life here and make it count beyond the now. we have ways to deal with it, the lack of connection, while we're here—we go out and we hang out with whoever is around because they're there and they're something. and that's good. there are some great people here. but sometimes it seems like we're grasping at straws of action in hopes of latching onto something to feel, even if that something is just momentary enjoyment or happiness. yeah, we're here and we're having epic nights and days and making memories, but when it comes down to it, life means more than the stories we have to tell. those are important, they are what make our life relevant in the now. but as human beings we strive for and desire more than that. we need our minds and souls to be touched in a lasting way, and that's hard to do in a bubble of a world.
so how do i approach this truth of life in korea? i can be frustrated by what doesn't seem to fit me and what i can't change, or i can put away my frustration and see this for what it also is. and what it is is a unique opportunity to truly live in the moment and enjoy it as that--the now--and to rely on myself for, and find in myself, growth and depth. the former is admittedly something i know i have a hard time doing; i think too much to allow myself to really let go and just be. i've felt this to be true and struggled with it more in the last two months than ever. and it's taken me until now to see what's been right in front of me the whole time: that i am smack in the middle of a place that does in-the-moment better than anywhere else i've been. what am i waiting for?
a thank-you note:
dear korea,
once again you show me exactly what i need to learn, and teach me. much appreciated. one of these days i'll stop being surprised when you do that.
your friend,
heather
life here still going to be a balancing act, yes. it always will be. there must be an equilibrium reached between living in the moment and processing what the moments mean. but finding that balance is something i look forward to with the understanding that even though it might take awhile and i may not know what it will look like, joy will lie in the process of discovery. that's because living abroad at its very core is a constant discovery of contradictions, strange feelings, and a deep undercurrent of feeling truly alive. sacrifice and reward are found lying somewhere between all the things we'll never understand and the beautiful brand-newness of unfamiliarity. milestones pass differently than we thought they would, but we love every minute of it. we discard old plans in favor of others we never unexpected and we couldn't be more sure of the decision to do so.
some highlights and hilarity from the past several weeks:-asking one of my afternoon students "how are you today?" every class, and every time having her respond with "it's sunny today!"-attempting a milk-carton gingerbread house project with kindy and having the director provide only chips and round cookies to decorate with. -asking for information about a gyno in the area and ending up on a group trip to the nearest one (who didn't speak any english) with all three of my korean co-teachers. talk about awkward.
-spending christmas day drinking makkoli and decorating a tiny fake tree to garish perfection with 10 foreigners, a korean family, and a bus driver.
-falling asleep on the wrong bus home new year's morning after staying up all night with plans of watching the sun come up on the easternmost beach in busan.
-standing on a mountain top in gangwon-do, skis strapped to my feet, looking out over an incredible view and wondering how i could be so lucky to live the life that i do.
links to my photos from the past several weeks (there are a lot, sorry):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015273&id=148800130&l=4c72f5c6de
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015404&id=148800130&l=44ebe47c3a
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/album.php?aid=2015570&id=148800130&op=6
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015648&id=148800130&l=743d4c2af4
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015644&id=148800130&l=f5d513b290
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015865&id=148800130&l=620b680e3a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015868&id=148800130&l=cc75a82c37
it's a new year, and i'm glad to be here. the past two years have held more than i ever could have dreamed, and i imagine that the next twelve months will be more of the same. i look forward to whatever may come my way. to those of you in korea--may our crazy and fantastic lives continue to be so. to those of you in the states--may this year bring exactly what you need it to be. to those of you anywhere in between--enjoy the journey, wherever it takes you. happy holidays and i wish the best to everyone :)
love,
heather
so how do i approach this truth of life in korea? i can be frustrated by what doesn't seem to fit me and what i can't change, or i can put away my frustration and see this for what it also is. and what it is is a unique opportunity to truly live in the moment and enjoy it as that--the now--and to rely on myself for, and find in myself, growth and depth. the former is admittedly something i know i have a hard time doing; i think too much to allow myself to really let go and just be. i've felt this to be true and struggled with it more in the last two months than ever. and it's taken me until now to see what's been right in front of me the whole time: that i am smack in the middle of a place that does in-the-moment better than anywhere else i've been. what am i waiting for?
a thank-you note:
dear korea,
once again you show me exactly what i need to learn, and teach me. much appreciated. one of these days i'll stop being surprised when you do that.
your friend,
heather
life here still going to be a balancing act, yes. it always will be. there must be an equilibrium reached between living in the moment and processing what the moments mean. but finding that balance is something i look forward to with the understanding that even though it might take awhile and i may not know what it will look like, joy will lie in the process of discovery. that's because living abroad at its very core is a constant discovery of contradictions, strange feelings, and a deep undercurrent of feeling truly alive. sacrifice and reward are found lying somewhere between all the things we'll never understand and the beautiful brand-newness of unfamiliarity. milestones pass differently than we thought they would, but we love every minute of it. we discard old plans in favor of others we never unexpected and we couldn't be more sure of the decision to do so.
some highlights and hilarity from the past several weeks:-asking one of my afternoon students "how are you today?" every class, and every time having her respond with "it's sunny today!"-attempting a milk-carton gingerbread house project with kindy and having the director provide only chips and round cookies to decorate with. -asking for information about a gyno in the area and ending up on a group trip to the nearest one (who didn't speak any english) with all three of my korean co-teachers. talk about awkward.
-spending christmas day drinking makkoli and decorating a tiny fake tree to garish perfection with 10 foreigners, a korean family, and a bus driver.
-falling asleep on the wrong bus home new year's morning after staying up all night with plans of watching the sun come up on the easternmost beach in busan.
-standing on a mountain top in gangwon-do, skis strapped to my feet, looking out over an incredible view and wondering how i could be so lucky to live the life that i do.
links to my photos from the past several weeks (there are a lot, sorry):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015273&id=148800130&l=4c72f5c6de
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015404&id=148800130&l=44ebe47c3a
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/album.php?aid=2015570&id=148800130&op=6
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015648&id=148800130&l=743d4c2af4
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015644&id=148800130&l=f5d513b290
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015865&id=148800130&l=620b680e3a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015868&id=148800130&l=cc75a82c37
it's a new year, and i'm glad to be here. the past two years have held more than i ever could have dreamed, and i imagine that the next twelve months will be more of the same. i look forward to whatever may come my way. to those of you in korea--may our crazy and fantastic lives continue to be so. to those of you in the states--may this year bring exactly what you need it to be. to those of you anywhere in between--enjoy the journey, wherever it takes you. happy holidays and i wish the best to everyone :)
love,
heather
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