Living and Working in Korea

I wrote this piece many months ago in my blog, Heather in Wanderland http://heatherinwanderland.blogspot.com

This past week has been a bit hard in Korea. I have come to the realization that I have probably learned all I need or want to know about this place, which is probably one of the most boring destinations in the world for a traveller. I am, unfortunately, over Korea. The honeymoon period is through and the work begins.

We are birds of flight with clipped wings.

Korea has a lot of things about it that are fascinating and I still am living abroad versus living in my home country, which will always be an adventure. But I am tired of the lack of diversity. I am tired of the constant interruptions of loud speakers inside and outside my home. The lack of privacy can be really frustrating for a Westerner. I am tired of people staring at me all the time and tired of not knowing if they want me around or not. There are times when people will move their seat on a subway just so they don't have to sit next to a white person. This is, after all, the "hermit kingdom." Whoever gave Korea it's other name, "The Land of Morning Calm," must have never lived in Korea. For this place is anything but calm or peaceful.

I am thankful for the many kindnesses that are shown me by various Koreans and they more than make up for the rude ones. Many people are extremely patient with me, despite the fact that I don't know the language...and never will. This language barrier takes it's toll though. I realized that I have drawn into myself, trying to blend into the surroundings as much as possible. Like a Green Mamba snake or a Jaguar in jungle trees. Camouflage. If they don't see me, they won't stare at me. This big hunk of white flesh with my weird clothes and ways.

There is a part of me that is grieving, I think. I feel the loss of my native tongue acutely. While I teach English every day and can speak with co-workers and, of course, my husband, I realized that my everyday interactions are stifled. Simple things like going to the post-office or the grocery store render me mute and helpless. And very ashamed. I feel like I just got off the boat. Now I know how my great-grandparents felt and how the immigrants from Mexico and South/Central America feel. And in this respect, at least, a gap has been bridged.

I realized how much things have changed when I got back from Malaysia and Singapore, where English is an official language. It was amazing how many things I was able to learn and how many fascinating people I was able to meet, just because I could TALK to them. I could be myself, unapologetic and curious. It was nice, really nice. I miss being able to connect with people. I miss diverse cultures and constant stimulation.

All of these feelings make me ready to flee. To move on to the next place. Here I am bored, listless, and slightly annoyed. As my husband says, we are birds of flight with clipped wings. The next six months, where there will be no trips, is already taking it's toll. Not travelling makes me feel like a caged animal. And it makes me wish that the time would go by faster, which is a horrible thing to wish for, as each moment of life is precious.

I am keeping things in perspective, knowing that there are many good things to be gained from my time here. But I have been living my whole life biding my time. There has always been something to "get through," whether it be adolescence, school, or a time to pay off debts. After I leave Korea in a year and a half, there will be no more "getting through," at least not in the foreseeable future. There will just be life, travelling. Wandering. Then, I'll be home. Wherever that is.