Brandon is one of my best friends, and his girlfriend is genuinely one of the coolest people I know. When they told me months ago that they were planning a trip to Tokyo, and could swing by Seoul for a weekend once I was living in Korea, I was ecstatic. The visit was going to be nearly 2 months into my stay here, so it would be the perfect timing for a visit from home.
When the weekend finally arrived, I could barely contain my excitement. It was all I could talk about at work the two weeks before; even my kids knew that Katherine Teacher was going to Seoul to see her boyfriend (I corrected them several times, but apparently male friend is always equal to boyfriend. Sorry Beth).
Getting to Seoul wasn't nearly as difficult as I expected it to be, and within minutes of getting to my hotel room, Brandon and Beth were knocking on my door. After hugs that I refused to let them withdraw from, and maybe a little bit of tearing up on my part, we headed out.
Now, I'm not going to chronicle our entire weekend here for you. I'll visit Seoul again and will have more interesting commentary on the city and the sights. But this trip wasn't about Seoul. It was about seeing my friends, and I don't regret a single minute that we spent in the hotel room talking about nothing. Because that's normal to me, and I didn't realize how much I've been craving normalcy.
Before I left the states, everything was crazy. Every conversation I had was about Korea, about teaching, about how 'brave' I was to travel so far from home (for the record, bravery is that last thing I'd call it). Since December or January, everything in my life has been Korea-centric. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed those conversations, I wanted to talk about it with anyone and everyone. Now that I'm here, there's even less separation from Korea, even when talking to my foreign friends. We're always talking about new Korean food, or Korean men, or our Korean language abilities.
When I talk with friends and family back home, it always feels like I'm saying a million words a minute. I want to know how things are going at work or home with everyone, but their response is the same: "Nothing's new here, tell me about Korea!" Usually, I'm happy to fill them in, recounting everything I can about differences between here and the states, or what new food I tried the other day that was surprisingly delicious. But I talk all day. It's my job to talk nearly nonstop for 8 hours, and I talk in social settings when I'm with my friends. Sometimes I just want to listen.
Sitting with Beth and Brandon was the first time I felt normal, talking about new releases from EDM artists, or making up dialogue for tv shows we didn't understand (which I did back home as well). We sat on the bed, ate junk food, and they told me about their travels. And I just listened. I threw in information and my experiences here and there, but it wasn't a one sided conversation.
The weekend was over so fast, and before I knew it, I was saying goodbye. As much as I love my friends, and as much as my family would like me to come home, I didn't experience any longing to hop on the next flight back, which I was honestly expecting to feel. Why? It's the people I miss, not living in the US.
It's easy for me now to do what I did back home, meaning reddit and lots and lots of television, but there's no social interaction there. What I miss is having those conversations with Caitlin about why Benedict Cumberbatch is attractive, or playing with my cats, or me trying to convince Caroline to watch Dr Who, or being so proud of Sam and Sarah that they're getting everything they wanted in life, making them prime examples that hard work leads to success.
Maybe I need to create my own normalcy. Just haven't figured out how yet.
안녕!
No comments:
Post a Comment