Blogger Notes

Korea - Month 5

Act Two ended in the depths of despair, leaving the audience to wonder whether our heroine would really be ok in the end. Let us rejoin her journey...

ACT THREE

After missing out on celebrating New Year's Eve, I convinced a friend to trek (45 mins) across town with me to the All-American Diner in Itaewon for a good breakfast since I hadn't yet been able to usher the New Year in properly. I had the best french toast EVER. (Seriously, it's not just the deprivation talking!) And then I got that sad feeling that comes after eating something really, really, good that you know you probably won't have again. :(

The same buddy agreed to go snowboarding with me since I thought it might lift my mood. Snowboarding is the only "sport" in which I have any interest in participating, probably because there's no competition in which case I don't have to worry about my nerdy self being pummeled mercilessly, but I digress...

We headed out to a little place called BearsTown early Saturday Morning. Shout out to the resort for providing free shuttle buses from Seoul! In the wee hours of the morning, we hopped onto the bus, slept for 2 hours and arrived in time to take advantage of a full day ticket (9a-430p).

I hadn't been snowboarding in over a year but several months of public transport had done me good. My legs were quite a bit stronger than they when I lived as a victim of suburban sprawl. My boarding skill improved in a matter of hours. I enjoyed the chance to be outside the city breathing fresh air polluted only by the sound of cheesy pop music filtering through the resort's speakers.

I returned to Seoul and the numbness I had abandoned for the day.

I have this annoying habit of thinking myself a completely unique individual, unplagued by all the idiosyncrasies and weakness that beset mere mortals. And so, it was in this state of discontented hubris that I found myself in tears on the subway for no apparent reason at all. I was filled, to the deepest depths of my soul, with a desire for home.

Some of you are now thinking, "Oh! How awful. We miss you too," and therein lies the rub. You’re scattered all around the country, a couple of you in far corners of the globe yourselves! Where is "home"? I'm not sure but I certainly wanted to be there---East Coast, West Coast, Dirty South---even New England would have seemed comforting during those dark days. I had internally assigned myself two weeks to "return to normal," knowing that if I remained in such a state, I wouldn’t be fit to teach when vacation ended.

The final days of the semester slowly dragged on until January 5th. I spent the first day of vacation sleeping, kept a promise to spend the 7th with a coworker, slept through most of the 8th, then woke up Friday morning, threw some things in my luggage and headed off to L'abri. [L'abri history here.] I was fortunate to have planned the visit far before I knew how desperately I would need it.

I traveled the four hours by bus uneventfully. Though no one on my bus appeared to speak English, I was able to communicate my stop to the driver. When the bus finally stopped at a small countryside bus shelter, I hesitated. "Yangyang!" the driver said, impatiently indicating the name of my desired stop. Oh, Lawd! I thought as I hopped down into crisp winter air. I grabbed my luggage, the bus sped off, and I stood for a moment in solitary confusion. By the grace of God, a taxi was idling nearby. I called L'abri and one of the workers was able to give the man directions.

Gangwando province is beautiful. The ocean parallels much of the highway and there are mountains in every other direction. I felt a bit more relaxed once I was in the taxi. The slow pace of the countryside had already begun to quiet my soul.

I arrived at L'abri during "work time" so the house was quite quiet. Actually, "house" probably isn't the right word as the place invokes the word "chalet." With only 11 inhabitants spread far and wide at the moment, I was invited inside by one of the staff and told to rest until dinner. Naturally, I was a bit nervous about meeting the other students especially having been told they were anticipating my arrival! L'abri is a study center but a loosely structured one. I had no idea what to expect.

I don't remember what we ate that first meal, but I do recall awkwardly attempting to introduce myself in Korean---my feeble attempt was well-received---and I remember trying to recall everyone else's names, as the sound of Korean names is still a bit of a challenge. The next few days were filled with study---Christian worldview, art, social issues, God & film, the Bible. My own reading was the book Hidden Art by Edith Schaeffer.

The book absolutely revolutionized my thinking. How can I, the unknown, "unsuccessful" artist, bring the fullness of God's glory into the activities of my daily life? Often I've felt that only a finished book or screenplay stamped with the approval of others is the sole worthwhile marker of my worth. I found in Hidden Art, and in the way of life at L'abri, the worth in little things, small details that I had not previously considered of any value. It was in this unique atmosphere that the cloud over my heart and mind began to lift.

By the end of the week, I did not want to go back to Seoul. While I have no idea how long I could realistically enjoy life at such a slow pace, I knew that I would be leaving the first place I had felt fully at home since I'd been in Korea---no small matter in light of the darkness I had been fighting before I left the city. I simply had to trust God to carry me and sustain me despite my unchanged circumstances.

I came back to Seoul after seven days and threw my thoughts into planning an adventure of sorts. Initially, I had intended to use the money from my overtime classes to pay off one of my credit cards. After realizing that my mental health was on the line, I made the decision to book a vacation to the Philippines before I left for L'abri. I knew I needed a break from Korea. I also knew that if I were to visit the States, I would probably not return to finish my contract.

My trip to the Philippines deserves a chapter unto itself to offer the level of detail it deserves (next email! or read about a friend's trip here). For the purposes of this narrative, I can say only that the trip was a godsend. The beauty of Boracay Island and its people, many mired in considerable poverty, was both a breath of fresh air and a reality check. My depression had a tinge of self-pity that was grossly undeserved. I also experienced a few moments on the island that caused me to hold my integrity up to the light of my actions, only to discover the two did not match up with my perceived self image---the person I believe myself to be, or perhaps more accurately, wish myself to be. The time I spent in Manila was likewise a glimpse into several realities I had previously only known in theory. My stay there was a display of contrasts, a time of both discomfort and great ease. (More on that later...)

I returned to Korea relaxed (my stomach pains had subsided) and contemplative. At the time of my return, I had six days to prepare for my winter camp lessons since I had refused to do so throughout the rest of my vacation. With fear and trepidation I made a feeble attempt at planning, feeling that whatever magic has sustained me last semester was gone. And I think it is. I was running on my own motivation. These days, I'm definitely receiving "my daily bread." Please don't ask about next Monday's lesson plan. I'll know what it is when God reveals it! :)

I'll wrap this one up in the next email...then on to Month 6!

Love and hugs,

-t.

This update would've come sooner but I didn't want to spoil everyone else's holiday spirit. lol!

December 2008

Even as December began, I was looking forward to the end of the semester (January). Being at work for 11-hours a day, 4 days a week was wearing me down pretty badly. December was the beginning of the REALLY cold weather. Seoul had a couple of light snowfalls. I had given up wearing anything other than a calf-length down coat.

Most of the month found me in some state of compromised health. Even when I was healthy, I felt as if I simply between ailments. Sometime in November I woke up with a sharp stomach pain that brought me to tears. In addition, I was plagued by severe nausea. While I absolutely appreciate how cheap the government-provided health care is here---I'm talking less than $10 for a doctor's visit---when the doctor pokes you a few times in the abdomen---"Does this hurt...Does this hurt...Does this hurt?" "Yikes! That's exactly where I told you..."---It doesn't exactly inspire confidence in the medical profession. I'm thinking an acupuncturist could have hooked me up better than the 20 or so pills that the doctor prescribed. Also ironic is the fact that all those pills were to be taken in 1 week's time. So basically, after pushing mercilessly on my abdomen, and confirming, through the translation of my older male coworker that I did not have diarrhea, the doctor determined that these 2.5 pills three times a day was the cure...unless of course they didn't work, in which case I was to return to the office.

In December, I was at a doctor's office again having again been awakened by pain. This fellow spoke a bit of English. "Acid Refluxuh" he said, and prescribed about 30 pills! I'm planning to see an acupuncturist soon...

On and off, I had been visiting a friend's church in downtown Seoul about an hour from my place. There's a really nice military couple at her church with a large apartment. They typically open their home after service and provide lunch for whoever wants to come. The Sunday of Christmas, they hosted a small Christmas party with a gift exchange. It was so...American! White Elephant style with gift snatching and all that! I had quite a bit of fun. It was the only Christmas party I attended this year.

I had Christmas Eve dinner with a group of expats, mostly likewise lamenting their distance from home and family. It was better than lamenting alone..and the 'blackened fish' was pretty good.

This was the first time (in all my 30 years!) that I hadn't spent Christmas with family. My tradition is to spend Christmas Eve through New Year's with them in Virginia. To make matters worse, Christmas is treated like a hyped up Valentine's Day out here...not exactly a happy scene for a 30-year-old single.

Rather than mope around my microscopic living space, I recruited a couple of girlfriends to go to a Dr. Fish cafe with me. If you are unawares, "Dr. Fish" are little scavengers about the size of large goldfish that eat dead skin. If I couldn't have a normal Christmas, I was certainly going to shoot for something interesting. You can check out a short vid of my experience here if you haven't already seen it. I think the experience was worth the 1-hour wait!

For Christmas dinner, I met up with some folks at a Mexican place and chowed down. It was more unique than the Christmas I spent at TGI Friday's. Definitely, different.

After working through Thanksgiving, I wasn't at all looking forward to working the day after Christmas. Still, Christmas fell on Thursday and we were right back to work on Friday. Another small highlight in the midst of dreariness was my December 26th lesson plan. I assigned my two 10th grade classes to "Interview a Native English Speaker." We called my sisters and my friend Joia by webcam. (Thanks girls!) The classes enjoyed the surprise and I enjoyed talking to family and friends while they were still celebrating Christmas.

While I was feeling less than positive about my Christmas experience, one really wonderful thing happened without my realizing it at the time...

Anyone who knows me well knows that I LOVE Christmas. Even though I live alone, I put up a Christmas wreath and a 6 ft. Christmas tree every year, some years, even a stocking. My dog has a little Christmas down vest and I generally make it a point to expand my Christmas music collection by a cd or two each year. Christmas in America is so fabulously seasonal. Its start is marked by Thanksgiving and it's end is marked by the New Year. It is well established and orderly. There are even unwritten rules. Positive references to Jesus are 'permitted' in public spaces and even ardent atheists talk about being kind and doing good things for the poor. People suddenly care about "peace and goodwill to all men." You don't expect to go into a store during "the Christmas Season" and hear a song about people "smacking them hos", we save that sort of thing for January 3. This sense of order is one of the few left in America and it has been a comfort to me throughout my entire life.

For much the rest of the world, this just is not so. To Christians in Korea, Christmas is another chance (obligation?) to go to church for an extended service, sing a few hymns, and pray for a really long time. For everyone else, it's a chance to line Mariah Carey's pocket with royalty money because she wrote the best Christmas date song ever: "All I Want for Christmas Is You," (if she never made another song she could live off her Christmas check from Korea), and walk around with their current boyfriend/girlfriend in matching accessories while lugging around a Christmas cake.

Without Thanksgiving, there's no definitive start to the season. Likewise, January 1, is only a small New Year's celebration, as opposed to Chinese New Year in Jan. or Feb., so there's no proper end to Christmas. (I've seriously seen Christmas trees and decorations up through February out here.) Likewise, viewing Christmas as a date night means there's no reason not to blast whack club remixes to booty rap songs while people are getting their shop on.

I think initially, it was a form of defense against my sensibilities being assaulted by the lack of "Christmas decorum" but I began listening to Christmas music the week of Thanksgiving and didn't stop. Even in February, I'm still rocking "Joy to the World." (None of that Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer stuff...real Christmas songs.) Somewhere in the midst of my sadness, Press 'play' now...
I heard the lyrics to "O Holy Night" as if for the first time..."a thrill of hope / the weary world rejoices." Boy, did I need hope. And boy, was I weary! As you probably know, the song goes on to say, "for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn'...the night when Christ was born."

That level of impact can't be contained in "a season." I never realized how much of my believed appreciation of Christmas was inseparable from Christmas wreaths, candy canes, and "presents under the tree." Ever so slowly, a painfully fresh perspective seeped into my consciousness. It is one that I will carry with me the rest of my days.

My Korean American neighbor whom I had befriended at the airport bailed on the Korea experience an entire two days after the end of her school's semester (December 28). She left with a hasty goodbye for the comforts of balmy Orange County, California. I headed back to school the following day for the perfunctory end-of-the-school-year half days and found myself once again, sick...on New Year's Eve.

I brought in the New Year without a moment's time for reflection or preparation. Lying in bed with a slight fever and sinus headache, I watched on TV as performers and an overflowing audience celebrated downtown in City Hall Park. I stayed awake long enough to see the bell ringing ceremony then fell into a fitful, congested sleep, unexcited about what the new year would bring and dreading work on January 2.

END ACT TWO.

[January soon to follow.]