Another Ending

Well, that escalated quickly. The last 6 weeks of my time in Korea were a whirlwind of... everything. Now, here I am. With only one more day left of work. Only 4 more days in Korea. One more Monday, a hundred more goodbyes.

So, I had this list of practically a million things I wanted to do before I left Korea. Places I wanted to go, things I wanted to experience. At first, it was daunting. The pressure of time started creeping up on me. Then I realized, as I have time and time before, that I can't do everything. I did, however, try to squeeze in as much as possible. Having my friend here helped. I had to be a good host... which entails getting out of the house more than I would have otherwise.

We hiked mountains, went to jimjilbangs, and visited new places. I ate more than enough Korean food, and indulged in more soju than necessary. 

My last few weeks were colored beautifully by faces of friends and students. I made it a point to enjoy every last second of my job. To really appreciate how great I've had it the last two years. I was lucky enough to develop some really awesome relationships with my students. I'm currently involved in several group chats, where they keep me updated on their new classes and I keep them updated on my current position in the world. 

I was really thankful for my last evening in my neighborhood. The weekend prior was tough. I wasn't able to do half the things I wanted to; tying up loose ends. I was rushing to write "Thank You" cards, clean my apartment, and pack up a box to send home and my backpack to travel with. My last day of work was filled with snacks and photo shoots. I had to run home after to meet a friend, and to convince her to take all of the left over things that I wasn't able to sell. Then, as I was rushing to meet coworkers for a drink... I realized that it was the perfect time to pop into my yoga studio for the last time to extend my gratitude to my instructors for being so kind and accommodating. I missed my last class, and was worried that I wasn't going to have time to say goodbye. They were so excited that I stopped by, and even offered for me to stay for the next class. Which I think they realized I really could have used, considering my frazzled and stressed demeanor. 

Gamcheon Village, Busan

Magkeolli and Pajeon after hiking

I declined and continued my sprint to the coffee shop, until I noticed the lady who has been serving me food for 2 years standing on the side of the street. I was so excited for the chance to say thanks that I didn't even get nervous trying to speak to her in Korean. It was our best conversation yet. I really wanted to let her know that I was leaving, and to let her know much I've appreciated her. I was able to explain than I was not coming back to Korea and that her food was delicious. She asked me why, to which I replied, "I miss my parents." This was all my limited vocabulary would allow. She said, "Why don't they come here?" To which I had no choice but to say, "They don't like Korea." Which isn't entirely true, but I think it got the point across. 

Then, it was time to say goodbye to my coworkers, two of which I have seen almost everyday since arriving in Korea. It was a long and drawn out goodbye, as none of us wanted to get up and actually initiate it. Apparently I've become really good at controlling my emotional switchboard - because I didn't break out into tears during any of my goodbyes (those under the influence of alcohol do not count). I grabbed an overpriced bottle of wine from the market for the last time, only to get home and realized one of my friends had claimed my wine opener as their own. That didn't stop me. I spent the next 20 minutes watching YouTube videos, trying to find a clever way to open it. Instead I just resorted to pushing it through, which ended in a burgundy stained tank top. I stayed up late and enjoyed my last night in my apartment, organizing and packing and appreciating.

 Simple. Exactly the way I needed it to be. 

Wrap up

Alex// Sunrise @ Daewangam Park

I'm starting this blog three months prior to actually leaving Korea, in anticipation of having difficulty reflecting on my time here during the madness of my last few months.

Two years. Two years this has been my home. I've been thinking back to my first few months here, when I was in my nesting mode. Exploring my neighborhood, transforming my apartment into a place that I looked forward to returning to at the end of the day, catching up (or slowing down) to the pace of life. The life I created for myself here has been on one hell of a roller coaster. What I was doing during my first few months looks a lot different compared to what I am doing now. Ramen and gimbap are no longer a staple of my diet. My focus has drifted from accumulating objects to figuring out how to get rid of all my possessions. Wine and art nights have now just become art nights. Instead of rushing home after work, I rush to the gym.

When I walk down my street, I do so with a sense of pre-nostalgia. I'm viewing present moments with future feelings of loss. Soon, I will be overwhelmed with "lasts". The last time walking to work. My last class. The last time eating at my favorite gimbap restaurant. The last time purchasing flowers from the sweet lady on the corner. The list of ends is endless.

But what do endings bring, if not beginnings? It's hard trying to balance my appreciation for all that I am leaving behind and everything I have coming. One day I am asking myself if I am really ready to end this chapter, and the other I am begging time to move faster so I can get on with my plans. I've experienced this transitional phase a few times in the course of my life. I don't think it has gotten any easier to stay present when the "now" and the "future" are playing a competitive game of tug-o-war with my thoughts.

Things I'm gonna miss
-Ajummas speaking to me and having no idea what they are saying. Watching them laugh as a wave of confusion washes over my face, followed by us both giggling and shrugging our shoulders in defeat.

-Feeling really confident asking a question in Korean, only to realize I have no idea how to translate their response.

-My students, even the ones that make me want to pull my hair out.

-My apartment, and living near the sea. This is the first place I have been able to call entirely my own. Living alone and creating my own space has been such a treat.

View from my apartment

-Food. All of it.

-The families that I have been lucky enough to become a part of. I've had the chance to watch the kids I babysit for grow up, the boys into curious pre-schoolers and the girls into fun toddlers that never fail to brighten my day. Their moms have become like sisters to me, and I'm lucky enough to have the chance to take solace in the comfort of "family" when mine is so far away. 

- Jimjilbangs, and being completely comfortable walking around butt naked. Hopping between the scorching hot and ice cold baths, mixed in with a few sessions in the saunas. I wish I would have taken advantage of these magical places more often... but I refused to visit the one near my house in fear of seeing one of my students. THAT I would not be comfortable with.

- The incredible people that I teach with, and get to see nearly everyday. I am so lucky to work with people that I genuinely enjoy being around. My Korean coworkers have been so dang helpful since the beginning. I never hesitate to ask them for help, which they are always happy to give me.

-Cheap taxis, which sometimes double as the entertainment for the evening.

-Norebangs, and their unbeatable collection of old, cheesy English songs.

Things I am not going to miss
-Trash

-Being a part of an educational system that I disagree with. I often have a heavy heart at work, knowing that most of my students are stressed and tired. Some of them haven't eaten dinner, and won't have a chance to before they go to their next academy. Some of them study for 12 hours a day. They study when they are on vacation at school. They study on the weekends. Their little lives are focused on passing tests and memorizing useless facts. I have constantly wished there was something more that I could do. Something more than trying to shift the focus of our classes from "studying" to "talking". I hope I was able to help my students relax and take a breath.

- The frequency that I see dead animals for sale. Don't get me wrong, I find it completely fascinating. Roaming around markets is one of my favorite past times, and they are always presenting me with something new. I've never really been exposed to markets like this growing up, so they are one of the things that makes me realize where I am. However, seeing and smelling it every day isn't pleasant. And the condition that they keep some of those fishies in makes me uncomfortable as well.

I've probably said it a million times, but I am so grateful that I've been given the opportunity to experience Korea on such a deep, captivating level. I tried to be as present and aware as I could. I think this helped me come to somewhat of an understanding of what, and who Korea is. In the process of learning about another country, I've learned more about myself. I've gone through cycles, in and out of good habits. One thing I can say for sure, is that I'll be leaving Korea as the best version of me to date. It took a few downs to really catapult me into a deeper sense of self, and of this beautiful world around me. 

blink

My trip home felt like I blinked, and it was all over. Like a wrinkle in time. A small break from one of my realities to remember I have a whole life back home. Just, waiting for me to come back to it. Two, completely separate realities. My friends here don't know where I come from, and my friends and family back home can't even begin to conceptualize what my life is like here.

I was so enthralled with being home, I was hardly on my phone. I failed at taking pictures and at communicating with people. I was sad to arrive back to Korea with few accounts of my trip, but the documentation I do have will suffice.

I didn't do as much as I wanted, or have the chance to see everyone that I wanted. But, I think I ended up doing all the things that really mattered in the end. 

I gorged myself with food from Whole Foods.

I did Bikram Yoga and ate at Raw Cafe, in my one attempt to keep my gluttony under control.

I was lazy with my sister and the pups.

I hung out downtown and surprised people with my presence.

I had a small gathering at my house with friends, which resulted in a late night Roberto's delivery.

I road tripped with my mom to see my brother in Utah. We watched shitty reality TV and went on an incredible hike in the morning. We played Scattegories and ate sandwiches.

My sister and I made our way up to my cabin. My favorite place in the world. It was a short trip. Less than 24 hours. But, that didn't matter. I was just happy as hell to be there. In the woods. At the meadow. Taking in the fresh air and re-exploring a place that was a big part of my childhood. A big part of adulthood too.


I shopped and ate and shopped and ate. And spent time by the pool. And shared cuddles with my dogs.

I appreciated my chance to visit home. I wish I could have stayed for longer. It helped me put a lot of things into perspective. I have a better idea of how I want the next few years of my life to pan out. I want to spend more time in Vegas than I previously considered. I am so lucky to have so many amazing people at "home". Not all are quite as lucky as me.

Sinwha Art Village

I can't get enough of my quaint little city. There are so many hidden gems. I have a pretty extensive list of places I have yet to explore, including a black pebble beach and amethyst mines. Not so recently (a few months ago, I've been slacking on this whole blog thing) I visited a traditional area of Ulsan formed in the 60s which has recently been converted into a mecca of murals, mainly dedicated to whales, naturally. Leena and I had a blast wandering the tiny streets admiring the colorful houses, barking dogs, and little working families tucked away in their homes.

Before heading into the village itself, we walked through a few personal gardens complete with cute little ajummas tending the plants. At one point I turned around to snap a shot and had to take a few moments observing the view above. Seeing the contrast of a rural like village and huge industrial plants put a lot about Ulsan into perspective for me. It is the industrial heart of Korea and houses the biggest shipyard in the world, both attributing to Ulsan being one of the "richest" cities in Korea. Despite that, there are still areas of the city which are less than telling of the cities industrial successes. 

Even though most of the art involved whales in some way, there was still a huge variety of things to look at throughout the village. It was impossible to walk three feet without seeing something new to catch your eye. Shacks, stairs, and doors were all covered in colorful paint. Leena and I probably spent close to two hours just wandering and snapping pictures around every corner.

To say that Ulsanites hold their history of whaling close to hearts is an understatement. Whales have been a huge part of their culture for A LONG TIME, according to petroglyphs in the surrounding area. Despite recent laws prohibiting the killing of whales as a means of profit, there are still loops holes. It isn't rare to see whale meat at the local fish market, unfortunately. Even though my heart cries at the thought of harpooning an innocent little whale, I try and remember that in the past it was a means of survival and has thus made an imprint on the culture of people in the area. Regardless, you won't catch me frying up any whale meat.