Reflections on 7 months in Korea, Ctd.

I realized at some point that my previous post was more of a summary of seven months in Korea than a reflection - hey, I had to leave for work - so here's the conclusion of that post.

So... how do I feel about being in Korea?

It's a question with a complex answer, and one that changes slightly depending on the day and time, and the proximity of friends, an episode of Modern Family, or a beer mug. For the most part I feel the same: I don't (yet?) feel that Korea hasn't fundamentally changed my outlook on life, though I've certainly learned lots. I've found out that the activities I want to do (volleyball, debate, exploring the outdoors, culture) and the groups of people I like to hang out with (the gays, debaters, people who have interesting things to say) haven't changed magically, and for the most part I've found my niches here, in the same way as I did back home.

In some ways living in Korea is so much better than home, though I think that's the work structure and income more than the location. It won't be surprising to some that I was frustrated with being unemployed and broke in Vancouver (I am eternally grateful to my aunt Colleen for her amazing support) and the start of a new job in Korea represented a break from that frustration. It also represented a new opportunity - I realized quickly that, although my Mom might not approve, with a bit of training I could teach in many places around the world, slowly getting teaching experience and experiencing different cultures. The offer of the debate job was the epitome of this opportunity, with a sudden upgrade from a one-of-a-hundred-thousand English teacher to a one-of-a-select-few debate coordinator.

So, despite my current frustrations, I am feeling very positive about my career future, both near and far. Sometimes it seems like the experience I want doesn't come quickly enough, and I tell myself to slow down and enjoy the process of getting the experience. After all, I remind myself, I'm in [expletive] Korea.

***

It is a weird sensation to be displaced culturally. I feel like the tilted house in Central Park - am I the one standing straight in a tilted world, or did coming halfway around the world tilt me? I understand about half of what is going on around me - the actions and body language are all familiar but the words are mostly incomprehensible. Whenever I visit a restaurant or get in a taxi, I practice what I will say, even if I have said it many times before. "Kimchi mandoo hana pojang-hae jusayo," I repeated to myself today before entering Kimbap Heaven. "I would like one order of kimchi dumplings."

This, however, is routine. It is only when I stop to think about it that I notice my inability to understand overheard conversation. I've heard from others who have been back home that the reverse culture shock is actually worse. It's like a superpower, they say - like you can hear what people are thinking. I'm beginning to understand this; the odd time I overhear a conversation in English, it takes me quite by surprise and I feel almost like I'm eavesdropping.

I've acclimatized to other cultural aspects as well. Living in Vancouver, I was already well-versed in the Asian art of eating with chopsticks, but was not as prepared for the Asian custom of forsaking chairs and sitting on the ground. I am not a foldable person. However, I have made do, partially by avoiding restaurants without tables, and partially by claiming the seat directly opposite from me for my feet.

Similarly, I have learned to navigate the bathrooms lacking toilet paper (the trick is that the paper is usually kept in the nearby businesses), the lack of any road names (they name their blocks instead), and the Korean propensity to put sugar on all baked goods and crackers, including garlic bread and vegetable crackers (you have to try many and remember which ones don't have sugar on them).

I've learned that I don't quite fit in here, culturally as well as physically, but that's OK. I miss the variety of food in Vancouver and the backyard barbecues, I miss the local artists' shows and small theatres' plays, I miss the stunning natural beauty I was desensitized to, and I realize that without investing several years and an immersion in the Korean language, I'm not going to get a parallel experience here. Seoul is a fascinating city, but it's not my city.


***

Although the previous paragraph would be a dramatic ending, I would like to put in a coda about my blog. I feel like I've made something which is part email home, part diary, part picture album, and part a hub to other interesting things. And though I haven't always been good at updating it, I have really enjoyed the process of capturing my activities, thoughts and pictures and formatting them for presentation. It's a neat reflection of my life right now, and one that I'm sure I'll be glad to have in 10 years. So I thank you, my devoted eight readers (at last count) for giving me the impetus to write this blog. Or, in computer lingo, :-).