It’s safe to say that my experience here in South Korea has been…a complex one. It’s been a year consisting of many different and connected parts. For once in my life I went through all four stages of culture shock: honeymoon, frustration, adjustment, and acceptance. My dear friend Ariel wrote about this earlier in the year, and it truly hit home with me. And after nine months of living in South Korea, I can confidently say I have reached the final stage.
If you would have asked me a month ago, hell a week ago, if I would miss South Korea when I left, I would have answered with a big, fat, NOPE. In fact, Gena has asked me this multiple times over the last few months and my response always went something like this,
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a great {I mean pretty much great} time living in South Korea. That being said, I would never do it again. It’s been a learning experience, so I guess for that I’m eternally grateful. But overall, I’m {more than} ready to go home.”
I guess it all made sense. My initial three months {February, March, April} spent in Korea were filled with praise for the country, open-mindedness about the customs, love for the people, and joy about taking on a new adventure. Honeymoon.
The next three months {May, June, July} is where it gets a bit tricky though. I feel as though I experienced adjustment during this period of time, rather than frustration. While I noticed things that frustrated me from time to time, I was willing to adjust my lifestyle to fit my new home. Adjustment.
Then, unfortunately, frustration really kicked in over the next months {August, September, October}. I found myself overly annoyed with everyone I came in contact with. Whether it be staring down the stranger that won’t stop staring at me on the train, or moving seats from someone taking photos of me on the bus. Even my co-workers started to feel the wrath that I sent across Korea.
I didn’t want to make such an effort anymore when it came to having basic conversations. I wanted to walk to the grocery store in sweatpants without getting judged. I wanted my kids to stop screaming every time I gave instructions. I cried every time I heard a stray cat crying around my neighborhood. I was just tired of it all. And I was ready to go. Frustration.
Cue November.
I went into this month, as I have many months this year, sick as a dog. With winter quickly approaching, the air quality has completely gone to shit. Not only that, but Korea experiences extreme temperature shifts between seasons. I had been in bed for the majority of my favorite season, Autumn, and yet…
I wasn’t bitter about it. More importantly, I wasn’t frustrated. Since I hadn’t been out of my house for weeks, I felt it was the perfect opportunity for a trip to Seoul. While I was still sick, I couldn’t miss celebrating the birthdays of two of my closest friends here in South Korea. I’ve talked about my South African beauties multiple times on this space {and others}, so you already know the love I have for them.
While I was already expecting to have a fabulous weekend celebrating with them, I wasn’t expecting the feelings of sadness that occurred when we began talking about our departures from Korea come February.
While we clinked our shots of soju together, laughing until our cheeks hurt, I realized another chapter was coming to an end.
I suddenly felt the effects of something that had been building all along. Like everywhere else I’ve temporarily planted my feet in this world, South Korea had become a home to me. It might not be the coziest home I’ve ever lived in, nor the most familiar. But I had grown with people from all over the world, in a place that none of us were prepared for.
We made it our home. It went kicking and screaming, but eventually we all held on long enough for it to melt into our arms. And while I will always have a bone to pick with Daegu, in Seoul it’s never been the case. Each time I visit Seoul, I feel more at peace. I desperately wish I had spent my entire year in the vibrant city, but alas.
I wanted time to stop this weekend. I wanted to continue the banter with the servers at our Korean BBQ restaurant, request more songs at ‘Off The Record’, eat more mandu on a rooftop at sunset, aimlessly wander the streets of Myeongdong. I even wanted to take more tequila shots, though we all know that wouldn’t be a good idea.
Something about this weekend felt complete. I had finally accepted my home for what it was. Korea didn’t need to become my favorite place in the world, but I needed to become my favorite version of myself here. And I think I’ve done just that.
Upon returning to Deagu, I felt uncomfortable. I wanted to be back in Seoul, back where I felt… complete. I fell even more ill, staying home from work, and missing multiple classes to rest in my office. Before I could go back on the progress I had made, however, my students once again saved the day.
At lunch they would run up to me asking why I hadn’t been in class. Of course, my co-teacher had to translate most of this for me, but some of them even practiced their English simply asking, “Are you okay?”. A few students had long conversations with me in Korean, as they do, none of which I could understand. But it felt so good to be missed.
My kiddies reminded me that I have made an impact on them.
When I talk about them moving on next year as bigger, older students, they cover their ears and say, “but Rachel Teacher won’t be here”. But aren’t you excited to be big sixth graders?! “No!”. And I love them for it. I can’t really imagine my days without them now. They make this entire experience worth it. Which is why it felt like another blow to the gut when I started counting down the days I have with them.
What will I do without the sweet fourth grader that brings me her jellyfish purse every single day – just for a quick cuddle. What about the sixth grade boy that pulls the same silly face at me every day – to which I have to tell him to turn around and pay attention to my co-teacher. Or my third graders that squeal and squeeze me before every class – most likely the real reason I am constantly sick.
And my basketball girls. What will I do without my basketball girls? They are the ones I have grown fondest of. Every week we struggle to understand each other, and yet, we continue to laugh and play each time we interact. They take care of me, just as much as I look after them.
While I stand by the fact that I would never do it again, unless I lived in Seoul, I suppose there are many reasons why I’ll miss Korea when I do eventually leave. In fact, I have an entire blog post dedicated to listing them out. But for now I am going to enjoy the last three months in Korea, all the while accepting it for what it is.
And of course, Happy Thanksgiving to all my loved ones at home! I am so thankful for so many things in my life, hence the mood of this post. While I do miss my family, the stuffing, and of course the wine, I will sleep well tonight knowing I’ve created my own traditions here in South Korea. Actually, let’s be honest I will sleep well tonight because I’m still ill and sleeping is all I do these days.
