Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Book Club

In my feverish attempt at making my life in Korea actually mean something, damn it, I joined a bunch of clubs and activities a few weeks ago. This included joining a book club.

Now, the very idea of a book club is something that is extremely appealing to me. It's the picture of smarty-arty pants sitting around in a well lit room sipping tea and discussing what really matters. It's quaint. It's cute. It's novel.

Of course, my romanticized idea of book clubs are anything but the real deal. Instead of tea, we are downing beers and wine. Instead of a cozy cottage somewhere, we are in a dingy bar/restaurant with dim lighting and a bathroom with a door nearly off its hinge. Instead of the orderly discussions where we all nod our heads in deep thought after someone has (yet again!) said something really profound about the book, we talk over each other, debate heavily, and disagree as readily as we agree.

Yesterday was the first meeting of our book club and I'm not sure if it was because it was the first meeting or what, but I felt like everyone was going balls-to-the-wall trying to assert their dominance, or brillance, or opinion, on the rest of the group. Like any moment we would all just whip it out and measure.

I include myself in the battle for supremacy because, please, like I was going to let someone misinterpret me, my opinions, or to, God help them, talk over me, or worse, not let me have a voice. I came into the meeting with my usual quiet reserve, prepared to get my tea sipping on, but left the meeting with guns blazing.

The reason why I decided to join a book club, I mean, besides the fact that I can say quite assuredly with noise turned straight up that "why yes, I am in a book club thank you very much," is that I missed the sort of discussion usually found around any seminar table in any university. I missed getting into the nitty gritty of pulling books apart only to put them back together again. I missed reading books that I myself wouldn't necessarily pick out for myself, but challege me and actually, actually, make me think.

That is not to say that I haven't been reading here in Korea. But I don't think re-reading Pride & Prejudice or the first of the Harry Potter series constitutes as a challenge. The former because I've read it a million times that whole pages are engrained in my memory, the latter because it was more entertaining than not.

In sum, I felt like I was becoming, for lack of a better expression, stupider. Like my synapses had stopped firing. I could actually feel the loss of my usual reading load because it effected not only my speech, but my writing.

Which is why I'm really glad I joined the book club. Because I always feel at my absolute best when I have my intellectual guns blazing.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Vacation, or Something Like It

My contract states I have 21 days of vacation for the year.

Unlike back home in the states, I don't really have a say in when exactly I can use those days. When I can take vacation days is determined by the academic calendar: if school is in session, I shouldn't take a vacation.

After summer camp was over, I used 5 of my vacation days (+ 2 weekends + 1 national holiday) for a Ten Day Summer Vacation. I'm not complaining about this, considering I've always taken summer school and have always basically had 10 days of summer vacation, but what I am bummed about is the fact that I did nothing and went no where for summer vacation.

That list of places I wanted to go to that I made earlier? Didn't see a single thing.

I know, I know. Trust me, I know.

I was actually really upset by this. I know it's all my fault, that if I really wanted to get out and go, then I should have just went, that there was nothing, really to stop me. But I let excuses pile up on excuses and ended up not even really leaving Seoul.

The weather was horrible, and all the things I wanted to do were outdoorsy--hike a mountain in the rain? go to the beach during a thunderstorm? no thank you. But it wasn't even just that, because I should have forced myself to explore more of Seoul.

But I didn't do anything.

Instead, I felt horrible about my life and myself and cried everyday. Not having anything to do, nowhere to go, no one to go with... it was the first time that I actually, horribly, felt homesick. I felt so terribly alone.

I felt disenabled. Stifled and suffocated by being in Seoul. I wanted to get out, but felt stuck. Maybe I couldn't make up my mind, that it was my own indecision, my own internal conflict that disabled me.

In any case, the tears fell a lot that week. Without work to define me and my life here in Korea, I was faced with the naked truth: I don't have a reason for being. I hated the feeling of not knowing for what I was living and why.

It was such a sobering thought.

I'm not saying that I hate my life here in Korea. Not that at all, but I am saying that it's not all roses here. There are times when you miss home something fierce, and there's nothing more you want to do than to just be with the people you love the most.

The upside of not doing a damn thing during my vacay: I booked my flight to Japan, and all the money I saved can and will be spent on my Japan vacation next month! Tokyo & Kyoto, wait for me!

Monday, August 15, 2011

Heart, Mind & Seoul: The first Six Months

In about a week, I will have been here in Korea for 6 months. Half of my contract is over. Looking back on all of it I wonder about how different my life is, how different I am, and what makes me liking Korea so much. In many ways, my life here is one of convenience.

It was convenient for me to come here—not easy, mind you, but convenient in the sense that I had nothing keeping me in the states. Moreover teaching/living here was a convenient opportunity to help me take care of the pesky student loans I had accumulated during my university days.

Even living here, things are convenient: transportation, shopping, eating out, traveling, etc. Sure, sometimes the language barrier can be a problem, but for the most part, and especially since I live in Seoul, I can usually communicate something to get my point across.

Seoul has cafes and bars and clubs and shopping centers and subways and everything that we have back home.

All in all, there is very little inconvenience in my life.

And in many ways, my life hasn’t changed too dramatically since coming here. The places are different, the people, the language, the food—but me, my life, and what I do daily feels so routine.

Thus, I can’t help but wonder just what it is that is keeping me here in Korea.

Is it the fact that the novelty of living in another country hasn’t worn off yet?

Is it because my life is terribly convenient here?

Is it because I don’t really have a reason to leave?

That I don’t want to leave this life of little responsibility? Because I know that once I go back home, I know, truly, that I would have to buckle down and get serious about my life haha.

The thing about being a foreigner in Korea, is that you are just so, so aware of how much a foreigner you are. I’m not just talking about how much you stand out in a crowd, or how much people stare, the language barrier, or how some internet sites won’t accept your foreigner ID. What I am talking about is all of that, combined with the ever prevalent thought that the visa stamped in your passport only allows you to be in the country for a year and some days.

It’s the fact that with every foreigner you meet, there will come a time when you will have to say goodbye to that person.

It’s beginning.

This long and painful farewell. I haven’t yet been here 6 months and already I’ve had to say goodbye to people who are returning home. Some have finished their contracts and others are breaking them, but it’s a sad truth that honestly, our paths will most likely never cross again.

For whatever reason, our lives brought us here to Korea, and our paths crossed and we had these moments and shared experiences and this time…and that’s all we get.

It just feels so sad.

It could be said that this is a similar situation to that of going away to college. Everyone knows that eventually you’ll have to say goodbye to the places and people you met at college. That the end is always in sight.

Maybe it’s just that this is one year.

Maybe it’s that we were pulled from a wider pool of people, coming from more countries, distant countries, and that it would be harder to not only keep in contact, but to keep up meaningful contact.

Maybe it’s that as foreigners in a different country, we force bonds on each other faster and easier and it feels strange to continue in a place with a severed bond. To go on alone when there was a time when that wasn’t the case.

I’ve digressed.

I don’t know what it is about Korea that is keeping me here. What it is that is preventing me from leaving. But having been here for half of my contract, and only having another 6 months left here… I don’t think I’m ready to go yet. I feel like there’s more here for me to do and go and experience.

So if the opportunity comes to me to stay another year, I will accept it.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

An act of Rebellion.

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.
-Albert Camus