So, when last we left our hero (that would be me) he (that is, I) had finished up the first evening, and was ready for the first day at school, and the first full day in Korea.
A person from my school said she would come by to pick me up at 7:50 am, so I set my alarm for 7:00 am. I'd had to do the math from San Francisco and adjust my phones clock manually since my phone couldn't connect to a network in Korea to figure out the time automatically. Unfortunately I did the math wrong, and was off by an hour. Fortunately, I was an hour ahead of actual time instead of behind, so when my alarm went off at 7am the next morning, it was actually 6am, and not 8am.
Of course I didn't realize this right away, oh no. I thought it was 7, so I woke up, brushed my teeth, took a shower, got dressed, and went outside to wait for the girl who had left me the note. When I got outside my phone read 7:48. 22 minutes later, I was starting to worry something had gone wrong. Had I missed a direction? Was I supposed to meet her somewhere else? What's going on?
I walk into the lobby, and I'm about to ask to use the phone so I can call her and find out, when I see the clock on the wall. It read 7:15. My phone said 8:15. Well that would be the problem.
Fast forward one hour. Karen and I are getting on the subway. She had come exactly on time to take me to school. She was just another foreign teacher who lived in the same neighborhood as my motel. Apparently I had arrived during summer intensives, so the hours were different from normal. 8:30 am every day until 6:00 pm. Luckily it was the last week of those hours, and the schedule would return to the normal 2-10 that I had been told about the following week. She explained all this to me on the way to the subway.
The subway system here, for the record, is incredible. It's fast, efficient, clean, easy to use, and very cheap. I absolutely love it, but I will go into detail about it at a later time.
The school is a very nice facility on the third floor of a building with a number of different offices and companies working out of it. It is clean, and new looking, painted with bright pretty colors. We walk in and head strait to the teachers office, which is a large room comprised primarily of 14 computer stations/desks situated at two long tables. Karen shows me were I will sit for the day, and walks off to start her preparations for class.
I set my stuff down and before long a girl named Victoria walks in and asks me to come with her. We go into an office, we sit, and she gives me the run down. Victoria is the head foreign teacher at the school, which doesn't make her my boss exactly, but it means that any instructions/assignments, as well as complaints with my performance from the supervisor or director, will come through her. It also means that she is my go to person for any issues or questions that I have either about my job or life in Korea.
Then she gives me the situation. This is great. Apparently I'm here to replace a guy named Tristian, and his last day today (Today as of then, Thursday, august 18). Which means instead of the standard week of observation and training, I get one day, and then will be responsible for a full teaching schedule the very next day.
This was mildly stressful. I'm a fairly quick learner, but one day was not enough time to comprehend all of the various details involved with this job. So I spent the day watching, I asked a ton of questions, and by the time I left that night, I had a somewhat vague idea of how maybe the basic concept of teaching here sort of works. *Sigh*
So far my experience in Korea has been very pass or fail, sink or swim. Meaning, very often little to no explanation, direction, or help is given regarding just about everything. Mostly you're just told what needs to happen, and then left up to your own devices to make it happen, and it either happens or it doesn't. This has been one of my biggest sources of stress since coming here, but also one of my biggest sources of pride, because so far, I've made sure that everything that I need to happen, has.
So the next day I wake up, check my phone to see how long I have until the alarm goes off, and find that my phone has died. Fuck. I go down to the lobby, check the clock, it's 5:30. I cant go back to sleep, because I might not wake up, so I take a quick walk, find a 7/11 (those are really big here for some reason) and get some breakfast. I take a shower, get dressed, play angry birds for a while, and go down to the lobby again to check the time. It's now 7.
Today I have to get all my luggage to the school as well, because I'm moving into my apartment after the day is over. So I manage to communicate to the front desk that I need a taxi, and he calls one for me. I go up and grab my luggage, and manage to carry all four bags at once to the lobby. If you had seen my bags, you would know that this was a feat in and of itself. The cab driver helps me get everything into the car, and then I get in and attempt to explain to him where I'm going. Also no easy feat. I give him the name of the subway station nearest the school, and he's off. When he gets to the subway station I use gestures to direct him down another couple of streets. Keep in mind I've only been here once before, I have a terrible sense of direction in general, and I'm not really completely sure where exactly the school is. But, fate is on my side, and somehow, by blind luck, I manage to get him there. He unloads my bags, I pay him, and he leaves.
It's now 7:30. I take the elevator to the third floor, but when the door opens, there's a mettle gate up, and the lights are out. Not open yet. So I go wait in the lobby with my bags for an hour, look over my notes from the day before, and try to get myself mentally prepared.
There's really not a lot I can say about that first day of teaching, mostly because I don't really remember very much. I sort of mentally checked out for the day I suppose. I switched into survival mode, and somehow I made it happen and got through the day. But I remember it being a little nerve racking.
One of the more difficult aspects of this job is stretching the material to fit a 50 minute class. Sometimes the syllabus for the day only gives you 3 pages to cover, but somehow you have to make it last, by adding your own information, activities, etc. You absolutely do not want to run out of material with 20 minutes left in the class, that is a terrible feeling. And I think that only happened to me in one class that day. We played silly games for the rest of the time.
With the day finished, I got my stuff out of the office and into another taxi. A coworker who lives in my same building came along and gave directions this time. She helped me get my stuff into my new apartment and then took off to go get ready. There was a going away get together for the teacher I replaced.
My apartment is small, but very nice. I have a refrigerator and a freezer, a washing machine, a range stove top though no oven, a full bathroom, a desk with a chair, and plenty of storage space. Waiting for me is a big cardboard box. I open it to excitedly find a whole care package of apartment needs. Pot, pan, dish, bowl, mug, cup, spatula, knife, fork, spoon, dish washing fluid, dish scrubber, floor cleaning fluid, floor scrubber, dust pan, pillow, comforter, bed sheets, a bottle of water, and a Snickers bar. I ate the snickers bar while excitedly tearing open the plastic wrapping on everything else. I had a bit of a nesting-gasm going through everything. It was a good moment.
At 9:00 I went down out in front of my apartment to meet everyone for the going away "party" though party isn't quite the word. We had dinner and a few drinks. It was a nice evening.
The neighborhood right around my apartment building is a fabulous place. There's a ton of restaurants, bars, arcades (arcades are still a big deal here in Korea), karaoke joints, clothing and computer stores, all within about a 150 yard radius from my front door. There's, more night life in this tiny little neighborhood than in the entire city of Cleveland, and that is not an exaggeration.
Life here is certainly interesting. But I would be lying if I said that I enjoyed every minute of it. The truth is, living here is very hard. Every day is difficult, and every day has new challenges to be overcome. I've experienced joy and wonder, yes, but I've also experienced short bouts of depression. I haven't settled yet. I'm completely out of my comfort zone every minute of every day, and I have yet to find any sort of feeling of security.
One of the problems is that absolutely nothing is simple here. There's no task that can be approached with the casual attitude of "let me just take care of this real quick" because nothing is ever that easy. First the task must be analyzed, and a general assumption has to be made of where/how can I accomplish this. I then have to determine what the necessary location is and figure out how to get there. Finally, upon arriving, I have to manage to find someone who appears that they can help me, and then somehow communicate my need. It's a major headache.
Garbage bags: sounds simple, right? I just. need. garbage bags. I assume I can get garbage bags at the grocery store, and I know where one of those is. There's one right around the corner, so I go there. I find a lady with a name tag, and say "garbage bags?". She looks at me funny. That's ok, I didn't expect that to work anyway, I was prepared for this. So I take a piece of paper out of my pocket, crumple it up, and with my other hand I mime opening a bag, and then mime putting the crumpled paper into the bag. "Ohhh", she looks concerned, "Umm, you...wait...there. Right back." She walks away and grabs another employee. She says some stuff in Korean to the guy, and he comes over to me. I repeat the motion for garbage bags that I have invented. He also develops a look of concern. He holds up a finger and walks away. He gets yet another employee, says some stuff to her, and she starts walking over. I repeat my gesture, and she nods and repeats it back to me. She speaks some English. "Garbage bags, umm, different here. Have to get in your neighborhood." "Oh, ok. But this is my neighborhood. I live in Cheonho. I just moved here." She laughs. "No no, not here. Convenience store." "Ohhh, ok." So I thank them and leave.
Apparently I need to go to a convenience store. That shouldn't be too difficult. There's tons of those around. So I stop in one, and look around. Don't see any. I go up to the guy behind the counter and repeat my gesture. He crosses his arms to make an "X" which is the gesture here in Korea for "no". Alright, fine. I go to another. Look around, don't see any. Repeat the gesture, crossed arms. Ok. Down the street there's another. Look around, gesture, negative. God damn it! I just need some fucking garbage bags!!
Next convenience store. I make my gesture, and the guy looks confused. I repeat, with more precision, he holds out his hand. I look at him confused, he points to a garbage can behind the counter. "No, no. For my apartment." He makes a "what the fuck is your problem" face, and points to a dumpster just outside. "No, no. I need to purchase. To buy. For home." Finally he gets it, "Ohhh, no no, not here." Face palm. I shrug my shoulders exaggeratedly and say "Where?". He points out the window and says "That way."
So I go outside, and walk, "that way", and see, down some dark ally with little else in it, a small non-chain store with a sign hanging that says "24 Convenience". I assume 24 hour is what they were getting at. I start walking towards it, and as I get closer I begin to get excited. I can see paper towels, and toilet paper, and tissue paper, and all those domestic goodies that few of the other convenience stores have even had. This has to be the place. I walk in. I look around. They have everything one could need for a home. Bug spray, window cleaner, foil, plastic wrap. But....this can't be....I don't see garbage bags. I look again. They have to be here. I tear every inch if the tiny store apart, but I don't see them. I go up to the counter, and I make my gesture for garbage bags. "Not here." I leave with a sigh.
I kept trying, and eventually I did find them. But that story was to illustrate my point that nothing here, and I mean absolutely nothing, is ever simple. It makes it difficult to get motivated to actually do anything, because I know that no matter what it is, it's going to be a hassle at some point or another. And a week and a half into it, it's starting to wear on me a bit. I haven't had a relaxing day. I'm still not really set up with everything I need, and so there's still more things I need to get, which means more things to figure out. And it's kinda fun. I mean it's part of the adventure, it's why I came here. It's certainly growing me into a more independent, self sufficient, determined and capable person. But it's also exhausting. And now, after my first full week here, I'm just tired.
Thanks for bearing with me through the exceptionally long post. I'll try to keep them more manageable in the future.
-Mongoose
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Arrival
There comes a point when you just have to let go. No matter how much careful and precise planning you put into a thing, eventually you just have to relax and let events flow however they are going to.
I hit this point at the moment I got off the plane in Seoul. For months I had been planning and working within a more or less rigid system. My path had always been clear, my next several steps always laid out for me by those I was working with. But this path of knowing ended when I arrived. All I knew was that somewhere in the airport was a man with my name on a sign, and that I had to find him because he would know what needed to happen next.
After clearing customs I found my contact, and nothing from there went at all how I expected it to. I was no longer in control of the situation, but a mere passenger on a ride that was starting to go very fast.
For starters, my contact spoke very little English. So little in fact that I shall continue to refer to him simply as "my contact" because I don't believe he understood the question "What is your name?". I saw the man with the sign that said "David" and waved to him. He excitedly and energetically came over to me and grabbed the cart with all of my bags on it with a gigantic toothy grin on his face. I'll say this; he was very friendly.
So he starts off and I fallow. I try to make small talk on a few occasions, but give up rather quickly. For the most part, to anything I say he either answers me in Korean, or just gives me a funny look. Of course, this is totally fair, because I responded to everything he said either in English or with a funny look of my own.
We make it outside the airport and there is a bus waiting. He gestures over to the underside storage area of the bus. I gesture myself and say "luggage?" (by this point I've found complete sentences to be both useless and a waste of time), and he nods wildly and says "Luggage! Yes!". Ok, I guess we're taking a bus. I had thought he had a car. I wonder were we are going...
We pile onto the bus, and he hands the bus driver two tickets. He then gestures at two seats and waits for me to sit down first. My impression of this man is very positive. He's friendly, always smiling, seems to know exactly what he's doing even if he can't tell me what that is, and for the most part his attempts and methods of communication are highly amusing. I ask him where we are going. "Uh...shuttle!" Clearly he misunderstands. "Yes, I know we're on a shuttle, but where is it taking us?" He gestures towards us and then away from us with an inquisitive look. I nod, he grins. "Shuttle, then car." "Oh, so you do have a car?" "Car! yes!" "Ok, and then where are we going in your car?" "Hotel!" "So, I'm staying in a hotel tonight? Ok. Will there be anyone from my school there? Anyone to welcome me or explain to me what is going on next?" To this I just get a funny look. "What happens after hotel?" He just shrugs. Hmm, ok, so I'm being taken to a random hotel, and then, who knows. I tell myself to relax, and assure myself that everything will be made clear in time.
The drive from the airport to his car was a lengthy one. I dozed off several times, and spent the rest of the time observing and contemplating the scenery. It was a foggy day, and when we crossed the bridge from the airport to the mainland, a feeling of intensity came over me. So, this is Asia, I thought. Perhaps as a westerner I have a somewhat romanticized view of the east. And perhaps because I had been traveling for over 20 hours with virtually no sleep, my mind was prone to the dramatic and romanticized view of things. But the aesthetics of the fog, the color of the water, and the ships floating silently in the ocean all combined to create in me an intensity for the first time that can only be described as a magical realization of where I was.
Mainland, too, there was something about the scenery that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The Korean climate is mostly identical to Midwestern USA. There are four seasons, a descent amount of precipitation, etc. So it doesn't seem like the landscape should feel all that different, and yet it did. Everything was basically the same, and yet still completely Alien. It's difficult to describe. The hills roll differently. The fog blankets differently. The trees have a slightly different quality in their leaves, that makes them feel ever so slightly jungle like, even though they are not.
Finally the buss drops us off in Seoul. My contact gestures for me to stay while he gets the car. It's actually quite remarkable how much can actually be communicated through gestures. He walks away, and I'm standing, for the first time, completely alone in an entirely foreign country. I must have looked ridiculous, standing on the side of the road, with four over stuffed bags, looking both American and lost. People would look at me as they walked or drove by, and I chuckled to myself, enjoying the reversal. All I could do was imagine some Korean exchange student, standing on the street somewhere in the states, looking confused as people passed and laughed at the funny Asian kid.
The car arrived, we loaded it up, and drove to the hotel. It was only about a 15 minute drive, and mostly not noteworthy. I did however get the impression that Seoul, with it's tiny side streets and heavy pedestrian population, is not a place that I ever want to drive in. We arrived at the hotel and my contact helps me get my bags in. He hands a slip of paper to the man at the desk and receives a key and another piece of paper. He hands these to me. I read what is on the paper. "David, I will pick you up at 7:50 tomorrow to take you to school. -Karen". Ok, so at least I know my next step. I'm a little nervous about being completely on my own tonight, but the situation could definitely be worse.
By this time the man who got me here is on the elevator with my bags calling for me to come with him. He takes me up to my room, helps me gets my bags in, shakes my hand, and leaves. Well that's that I suppose. look around. Nice place. I don't get the impression that this is a high class joint by any means, but it is very comfortable and accommodating. I have a mini fridge stocked with two juice beverages, as well as bath towels, bath soap, shampoo, a myriad of hair and skin care products, hairbrushes, combs, toothpaste, and even a complimentary box of condoms.
But no food, and that is what I need at the moment. So I take a shower and wash the travel off my body, get dressed, and go. Luckily, the neighborhood around the hotel is absolutely packed with restaurants. It seems like every single first story storefront, and occasionally the second story ones as well, are food establishments. The only exception is a convenient store on the corner of every block or two. I've never seen so many places to eat crammed into one location. It's impossible to describe tthe scene, but I will post pictures soon. Needless to say, to the fat kid that lives inside of me, it was heaven.
So, food is everywhere. The only problem is...no one speaks any English, and I don't speak any Korean. It's amazing how much of a problem this becomes when trying to order a simple meal. We absolutely take the commonality of language for granted in our daily lives. The first hurtle is actually getting up the nerve to walk into a restaurant all by yourself and babble at the people inside in a tongue they don't speak. The second hurtle is actually ordering, because there's no way to have any idea of what's on the menu. The best you can really do is point to a random item within your price range, and hope it ends up being delicious, or at least edible.
I finally choose a place where I see people eating things that look like I would want to eat them, and walk inside. I get no where fast. A lady comes over to me and says some stuff in Korean. I try to gesture that I'm very hungry, and that I don't care what she brings me. She says some more stuff in Korean. I point to the menu and gesture wildly. She holds up two fingers. I hold up one finger. She shakes her head and thrusts two fingers at me. I stand there looking confused.
She sighs and goes in the back and brings out another lady who speaks some English. This woman explains to me that in a traditional Korean restaurant, everything is served family style, and can't be served in portions for one. She then takes me up the street, and shows me to a place that not only serves single portions, but has a menu with pictures well!
I ordered what looked like sushi, and it basically was. It came in a sufficiently large portion, tasted better than any I have ever had in the states, and only cost 4 dollars. Feeling full and very happy, I returned to my hotel room to get some sleep. My first night in Korea had been a bit intense, and a little frightening, but everything had turned out just fine in the end. A good omen for the coming year.
More to come soon.
-Mongoose
I hit this point at the moment I got off the plane in Seoul. For months I had been planning and working within a more or less rigid system. My path had always been clear, my next several steps always laid out for me by those I was working with. But this path of knowing ended when I arrived. All I knew was that somewhere in the airport was a man with my name on a sign, and that I had to find him because he would know what needed to happen next.
After clearing customs I found my contact, and nothing from there went at all how I expected it to. I was no longer in control of the situation, but a mere passenger on a ride that was starting to go very fast.
For starters, my contact spoke very little English. So little in fact that I shall continue to refer to him simply as "my contact" because I don't believe he understood the question "What is your name?". I saw the man with the sign that said "David" and waved to him. He excitedly and energetically came over to me and grabbed the cart with all of my bags on it with a gigantic toothy grin on his face. I'll say this; he was very friendly.
So he starts off and I fallow. I try to make small talk on a few occasions, but give up rather quickly. For the most part, to anything I say he either answers me in Korean, or just gives me a funny look. Of course, this is totally fair, because I responded to everything he said either in English or with a funny look of my own.
We make it outside the airport and there is a bus waiting. He gestures over to the underside storage area of the bus. I gesture myself and say "luggage?" (by this point I've found complete sentences to be both useless and a waste of time), and he nods wildly and says "Luggage! Yes!". Ok, I guess we're taking a bus. I had thought he had a car. I wonder were we are going...
We pile onto the bus, and he hands the bus driver two tickets. He then gestures at two seats and waits for me to sit down first. My impression of this man is very positive. He's friendly, always smiling, seems to know exactly what he's doing even if he can't tell me what that is, and for the most part his attempts and methods of communication are highly amusing. I ask him where we are going. "Uh...shuttle!" Clearly he misunderstands. "Yes, I know we're on a shuttle, but where is it taking us?" He gestures towards us and then away from us with an inquisitive look. I nod, he grins. "Shuttle, then car." "Oh, so you do have a car?" "Car! yes!" "Ok, and then where are we going in your car?" "Hotel!" "So, I'm staying in a hotel tonight? Ok. Will there be anyone from my school there? Anyone to welcome me or explain to me what is going on next?" To this I just get a funny look. "What happens after hotel?" He just shrugs. Hmm, ok, so I'm being taken to a random hotel, and then, who knows. I tell myself to relax, and assure myself that everything will be made clear in time.
The drive from the airport to his car was a lengthy one. I dozed off several times, and spent the rest of the time observing and contemplating the scenery. It was a foggy day, and when we crossed the bridge from the airport to the mainland, a feeling of intensity came over me. So, this is Asia, I thought. Perhaps as a westerner I have a somewhat romanticized view of the east. And perhaps because I had been traveling for over 20 hours with virtually no sleep, my mind was prone to the dramatic and romanticized view of things. But the aesthetics of the fog, the color of the water, and the ships floating silently in the ocean all combined to create in me an intensity for the first time that can only be described as a magical realization of where I was.
Mainland, too, there was something about the scenery that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The Korean climate is mostly identical to Midwestern USA. There are four seasons, a descent amount of precipitation, etc. So it doesn't seem like the landscape should feel all that different, and yet it did. Everything was basically the same, and yet still completely Alien. It's difficult to describe. The hills roll differently. The fog blankets differently. The trees have a slightly different quality in their leaves, that makes them feel ever so slightly jungle like, even though they are not.
Finally the buss drops us off in Seoul. My contact gestures for me to stay while he gets the car. It's actually quite remarkable how much can actually be communicated through gestures. He walks away, and I'm standing, for the first time, completely alone in an entirely foreign country. I must have looked ridiculous, standing on the side of the road, with four over stuffed bags, looking both American and lost. People would look at me as they walked or drove by, and I chuckled to myself, enjoying the reversal. All I could do was imagine some Korean exchange student, standing on the street somewhere in the states, looking confused as people passed and laughed at the funny Asian kid.
The car arrived, we loaded it up, and drove to the hotel. It was only about a 15 minute drive, and mostly not noteworthy. I did however get the impression that Seoul, with it's tiny side streets and heavy pedestrian population, is not a place that I ever want to drive in. We arrived at the hotel and my contact helps me get my bags in. He hands a slip of paper to the man at the desk and receives a key and another piece of paper. He hands these to me. I read what is on the paper. "David, I will pick you up at 7:50 tomorrow to take you to school. -Karen". Ok, so at least I know my next step. I'm a little nervous about being completely on my own tonight, but the situation could definitely be worse.
By this time the man who got me here is on the elevator with my bags calling for me to come with him. He takes me up to my room, helps me gets my bags in, shakes my hand, and leaves. Well that's that I suppose. look around. Nice place. I don't get the impression that this is a high class joint by any means, but it is very comfortable and accommodating. I have a mini fridge stocked with two juice beverages, as well as bath towels, bath soap, shampoo, a myriad of hair and skin care products, hairbrushes, combs, toothpaste, and even a complimentary box of condoms.
But no food, and that is what I need at the moment. So I take a shower and wash the travel off my body, get dressed, and go. Luckily, the neighborhood around the hotel is absolutely packed with restaurants. It seems like every single first story storefront, and occasionally the second story ones as well, are food establishments. The only exception is a convenient store on the corner of every block or two. I've never seen so many places to eat crammed into one location. It's impossible to describe tthe scene, but I will post pictures soon. Needless to say, to the fat kid that lives inside of me, it was heaven.
So, food is everywhere. The only problem is...no one speaks any English, and I don't speak any Korean. It's amazing how much of a problem this becomes when trying to order a simple meal. We absolutely take the commonality of language for granted in our daily lives. The first hurtle is actually getting up the nerve to walk into a restaurant all by yourself and babble at the people inside in a tongue they don't speak. The second hurtle is actually ordering, because there's no way to have any idea of what's on the menu. The best you can really do is point to a random item within your price range, and hope it ends up being delicious, or at least edible.
I finally choose a place where I see people eating things that look like I would want to eat them, and walk inside. I get no where fast. A lady comes over to me and says some stuff in Korean. I try to gesture that I'm very hungry, and that I don't care what she brings me. She says some more stuff in Korean. I point to the menu and gesture wildly. She holds up two fingers. I hold up one finger. She shakes her head and thrusts two fingers at me. I stand there looking confused.
She sighs and goes in the back and brings out another lady who speaks some English. This woman explains to me that in a traditional Korean restaurant, everything is served family style, and can't be served in portions for one. She then takes me up the street, and shows me to a place that not only serves single portions, but has a menu with pictures well!
I ordered what looked like sushi, and it basically was. It came in a sufficiently large portion, tasted better than any I have ever had in the states, and only cost 4 dollars. Feeling full and very happy, I returned to my hotel room to get some sleep. My first night in Korea had been a bit intense, and a little frightening, but everything had turned out just fine in the end. A good omen for the coming year.
More to come soon.
-Mongoose
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Goodbye For Now
There are few moments in a persons life that seem truly pivotal. That is not to say that there are not times, here and there, where circumstances seem to culminate in a moment of meaning. Every now and then a realization occurs, a circumstance changes, we start a new job, break up with a significant other, or have some sort of realization. Yet despite these more minor moments of varying intensity, there is very rarely a time in which ever single aspect of ones life is changing all at once.
Now is one of those times for me. The last moment I remember feeling quite so drastic was the day I moved out of my parents house and into the dorms at the beginning of my freshman year of college. A that time I left my security net and the only home I had ever known. I left every friend I had ever known for a completely new city that I knew nothing of and where I knew no one. It was intense and terrifying and exciting all at once.
Once again I am leaving behind everyone I have ever known for a city I know nothing of. Except this time instead of being a mere hours drive from my comfort zone, it is literally on the other side of the planet. I am moving to Seoul, South Korea. I do not know a single person in this city, I am not familiar with the food in this city, and I do not even speak the language. Once again I am filled with a feelings of intensity, and terror. My plane is set to leave in just over four hours as I write this, and yet it still has yet to truly sink in. I don't know anything at all except for the inescapable truth that everything in my life is about to change.
I finished packing my bags just as turtle got home. I had a moment to walk around the house and say goodbye to things. My room, the basement, the living room, my favorite chair, the giant television that I never watched, my cat...
I was never very verbal with my cat. Some people talk to their animals. I fed him, pet him, loved him, massaged him occasionally, played with him... But I never talked to him very much. As I scratch his head for the very last time, I couldn't help but wonder how this has affected him. What if he's less socialized because of it? What if he is more distant to humans or less able to understand us because he never grew accustomed to our verbal nature?
I think it is probably the nature of things to question everything when all things are suddenly outside your realm of affect. We naturally put off action over and over again because we tend to assume there is always more time. Then, finally, when time is out, we at that moment evaluate and analyze every insignificant action we have ever taken, questioning if we could have/should have done things differently.
As I am preparing to leave in four hours, as everything is getting ready to change, there is only one thing I truly wish I had done differently. I wish I had loved you more. All of you, anyone who is reading this. Because if you are reading this, I know it is because you have loved me. And as much as I am sure I have loved you back, I wish, at this moment, that I had done it more. In this time of reflection, my determination is that loving is the most worth while and fulfilling thing a person can do. And while I have done quite a bit of that in the past few years, I haven't done nearly enough.
-Love, Mongoose
Now is one of those times for me. The last moment I remember feeling quite so drastic was the day I moved out of my parents house and into the dorms at the beginning of my freshman year of college. A that time I left my security net and the only home I had ever known. I left every friend I had ever known for a completely new city that I knew nothing of and where I knew no one. It was intense and terrifying and exciting all at once.
Once again I am leaving behind everyone I have ever known for a city I know nothing of. Except this time instead of being a mere hours drive from my comfort zone, it is literally on the other side of the planet. I am moving to Seoul, South Korea. I do not know a single person in this city, I am not familiar with the food in this city, and I do not even speak the language. Once again I am filled with a feelings of intensity, and terror. My plane is set to leave in just over four hours as I write this, and yet it still has yet to truly sink in. I don't know anything at all except for the inescapable truth that everything in my life is about to change.
I finished packing my bags just as turtle got home. I had a moment to walk around the house and say goodbye to things. My room, the basement, the living room, my favorite chair, the giant television that I never watched, my cat...
I was never very verbal with my cat. Some people talk to their animals. I fed him, pet him, loved him, massaged him occasionally, played with him... But I never talked to him very much. As I scratch his head for the very last time, I couldn't help but wonder how this has affected him. What if he's less socialized because of it? What if he is more distant to humans or less able to understand us because he never grew accustomed to our verbal nature?
I think it is probably the nature of things to question everything when all things are suddenly outside your realm of affect. We naturally put off action over and over again because we tend to assume there is always more time. Then, finally, when time is out, we at that moment evaluate and analyze every insignificant action we have ever taken, questioning if we could have/should have done things differently.
As I am preparing to leave in four hours, as everything is getting ready to change, there is only one thing I truly wish I had done differently. I wish I had loved you more. All of you, anyone who is reading this. Because if you are reading this, I know it is because you have loved me. And as much as I am sure I have loved you back, I wish, at this moment, that I had done it more. In this time of reflection, my determination is that loving is the most worth while and fulfilling thing a person can do. And while I have done quite a bit of that in the past few years, I haven't done nearly enough.
-Love, Mongoose
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)