Dealing with the "Lasts"

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I wrote this over a month ago, before leaving Daegu, but I didn't have a chance to post it.

My two-year stint in Daegu is approaching its end—just one more week until I fly from Incheon Airport to Kuala Lumpur, and then on to New Delhi. Because I haven't taught real classes since December 20 or so, school life has been super-boring. It has gone really slowly. But the rest of my life has just flown by the last couple of months. Between trying to hang out with friends a lot before they and I leave, small trips around Korea, and planning for India/packing up my life, I've been busy.

I've said goodbye to most of my best friends in Korea already because they're on vacation and won't return to Korea until after I leave. Because it was a gradual process—one here, one there—and I told myself I was still in Korea for a while, none of the individual goodbyes have been that hard. But the grand total of the huge changes in front of me have gradually built up into a constant feeling in my stomach. It's a bit of unease mixed with sadness.

I haven't really been able to imagine not living in Korea. I'm so used to it now, and I don't know what the future holds for me. Looking at Korean life from this angle, I see it more positively than earlier. For probably three or four months, very few things about Korea have bothered me. Now, if people barge in front of me on the subway or drive produce trucks through the street with a recording blasting from a loudspeaker, I just shake my head, and think, “Oh, Korea” instead of feeling anger boil up inside of me.

It's really a bit crazy to leave. I have a stable job, which allows me to save money. I have good friends, a social life, and especially within the expat community in Daegu, it's easy to pursue hobbies and meet new people all the time. While here, I studied Korean, learned how to knit, and got better at salsa dancing. I daily or weekly learn something about Korea or about myself or American culture without even trying. Korea is also a great base for traveling, and my job allows me vacation and enough income to see different parts of the world. There's hiking within walking distance; Korean food is generally delicious; I can take public transportation everywhere I'd want to go; random cute children say, “Hello, how are you?” to me in the street; and, most of all, living here allows me to see my own adaptability.

I'm settled here. I finally feel like I know the basic ways of the country. I know when to give up my seat on the subway; how to order food for delivery; good conversation starters when meeting Koreans or ex-pats; to take my shoes off when entering some buildings; how a jjimjilbang (public spa) works; to use an umbrella when it's barely raining; to eat kimchi in front of Koreans so that they realize foreigners can eat spicy food; what kind of things my students are interested in; how to use chopsticks; how to take a taxi and plan a bus trip; to accept as a compliment when people tell me I have a small face or a big nose; to appreciate both American and Korean things.

This is the third major move of my life. Each move is difficult. After returning home, I can't do the things I'm used to doing from the most recent place. After living somewhere, I always yearn for things from those places. After The Gambia, I wanted chicken yassa, chicken domoda, tapalapa bread, the thrill of the bush taxi, beautiful and empty beaches, and bargaining in markets in beginner Wolof. After the Czech Republic, I wanted good public transportation, beer-drinking and debating pub culture, wonderful chocolate, and fried cheese (smazeny syr). I can't really predict what it will be for Korea, but I'm betting I'll miss the public transportation, jjimjilbangs, bibimbap (mixed rice bowl), jjigae (stews), Andong jjim-dalk (steamed chicken), fresh and cheap tofu, the hiking, and my people here.

Change is hard, but I believe experiencing changes makes us better people. It causes me to appreciate everything more.

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Photos

On the Way to Gatbawi
At Palgongsan

Gatbawi and Worshippers
This is where many Korean parents also come to pray before their kids take the national exam as high school seniors.

Dry Cleaners Across from My Apartment
"Daedeok Computer Cleaning"--not sure why it's called that

My Neighborhood Landmark
"Two Chicken Restaurant" below "Heart Noraebang (Singing Room)"

Nearby Kindergarten
One of two castle-style kindergartens on the same street

Boshintang, or Dog Soup, Ad
It's supposed to be illegal . . .

Hallway Outside My Classroom in the Dungeon
At Songhyeon Girls' Middle School