Christmas Tree Tetris

Another year, another Christmas away from home. With so much bad going on in the world, it's hard to get that spirit up, but that is also exactly why Christmas spirit is so important. Or holiday spirit. Solstice. Whatever you call it, we just passed the longest night, and I truly hope this means a new beginning, a path toward things getting better.

It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.

I finally put my Christmas decorations up last night! I love seasonal decor. When I was growing up, my mom always had amazing collections for each holiday season. We'd pull out the boxes and bins, unwrap each item and find a perfect place for it. Christmas was always the best, though, because my mom has the biggest collection of ornaments I have ever seen, and we would buy a new one each year. Each one was wrapped carefully in tissue paper, and each box was like a precious archaeological dig, documenting our years as a family. There was the first ornament my mom bought after she moved up to the NW from California. There were ornaments I made in preschool and kindergarten. I always looked for my favorites, like the white sparkly angel who gleamed rainbow in the colored lights, the little hand-made reindeer, the clear ball that looked like a floating soap bubble.

It's a bit small, but it will do.

Every ornament had to be placed just right. It was a puzzle to solve. Larger ornaments were tricky, and spacing was every important. In the end one of us would teeter at the top of a step-ladder to perch the angel at the top as the house filled with the smell of pine. These will always be some of my most treasured childhood memories.

Honestly, it's pretty tough to spend Christmas abroad, divorced from all the traditions I grew up in. For me, this time of year is all about family, and that's one thing I really don't have over here. I always do my best to stay upbeat but decorating cookies alone with my tiny tree just isn't the same.

At least I have my own small bit of Christmas to enjoy. Tonight is all about sugar cookies and very late Christmas cards, and if that can't get me in the mood for Christmas, I don't know what will.

Why Do You Go Away? So You Can Come Back

Well, I've been there and back again as Tolkien would put it, and with the customary chests of gold to prove it, so long as chests can be suitcases and gold can consist of quinoa, clothing, candles, and many other things that don't start with /k/, if you can believe it. Allow me my alliteration, alright?

Anyway (sorry, sorry, I promise I'll stop), I've been back from vacation for about three weeks, which means I finally have the energy and presence of mind to write about, well, anything. Jetlag is rough, kids. Add that to the horrendously hot weather, and my sleep has been, in a word, crappy.

Each trip home has been weird in a different way. The first year it was mostly exciting and a bit surreal. My life in Korea started to feel like a dream, and I was surprised upon coming back to find everything exactly where I'd left it. My second visit was just odd and stressful and unsettled- I feel like I never really got my balance. And this year?

This year was the first time I felt any strong desire to move back home. I met my friends, and saw the lives they were living, and for a moment I thought...this could be me. Do I want this to be me?

I've been in Korea long enough now that a lot of the great things have become invisible, which puts the negative things up in sharp contrast. Some things are specific to Korea, while others are things that come with living in a country where you don't speak the language fluently. It's dumb, but the the Korea-specific complaint that I always go back to is bars. I used to love just popping into a local place around 5 or 6 PM, not to get drunk, but to sip on a drink at the bar and write or meet people. One time I talked for an hour with a guy who owned a company that cleaned up houses of hoarders or after a dead body wasn't found for a long time. Gross but fascinating.

It's also much harder to make friends and develop relationships, partially because of cultural differences, but also because of the language barrier. I wouldn't say it's necessarily difficult, but it's certainly more of a challenge. That's probably one of the biggest lures of moving back to Seattle or the US. Not only do I have a preexisting collection of friends, I know the rules of social engagement much better. 

However, for every positive outcome I could get by moving back the US, there is an equal and opposite negative outcome. Whenever I imagine moving, I forget that I won't be able to bring my well-paying job and rent-free living situation with me. I'd have to deal with the horrible US healthcare situation again. I'd go back to cat-calling and gun violence and an inability to afford an apartment of my own. That's a big one, I must admit. Living alone is a gift I'm not sure I'm willing to part with just yet.

I'm lucky to have the job that I have, to be able to support myself at 26, debt-free, with the ability to travel on my own dime, and not have to stress about the bill at a fancy restaurant most of the time. Any time I start to complain, I try to remind myself of that. Not in a "there are STARVING CHILDREN in [insert stereotypical poor country] so EAT your green beans for crissakes" but in a more...count your blessings sort of way. Visiting home every summer is a great way to remind me of that.

All That You Can't (But Must) Leave Behind

Moving to Korea was one of the best decisions of my life, but that doesn't mean it's always sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows. It's a trade-off, I suppose-- for every step I take toward building a life for myself here, I'm taking one more step away from the life I had back in the states. I know I've written about this before, but it's something I keep spiraling back to. I have a bizarre form of that trendy new malady FOMO, a fear of missing out on the things I'd have been doing had I not moved to Korea.

The most obvious thing to miss is family events. No matter how much you email and check Facebook and Skype, so many things fall through the cracks. My aunt went through a huge medical situation and I had no idea how serious it was until I visited home well after the fact and heard the whole story. That really spooked me.

While I must admit I don't miss my family as much as I feel I should (sorry mom!), my younger sister is the one who really gets to me. She's 5 years younger, at that age when she's changing so fast and learning so much about herself and the world, and I really wish I could be closer, to step back into my role of Cool Older Sister who Already Made All The Mistakes. Not that she won't make mistakes...but I could at least save her a bit of time on some of them.

I guess every decision has two sides. Huh. That sounded much deeper and more revelatory in my head. This has always been an issue for me, for as long as I can remember. I don't regret taking the road less traveled, and neither would I regret taking the road more traveled, but I get really anxious about the road not traveled. The second I choose one, I'm POSITIVE the other would have been better. If I choose to stay home for vacation, a nagging voice tells me I should have traveled. If I choose to travel, the same voice says I should have stayed home and saved my money. I'm the human version of a cat-- the moment I'm let outside, all I want in the world is to be let back in.

This is probably nothing special, but it drives me crazy, as much as I've learned to ignore it. It's a basic problem of not being able to trust myself. I don't know what I want, or maybe I'm too easily satisfied. But is being satisfied enough? Who knows.

I'm 26 now, almost 27, and while I know that that's not old any way you count it, the speed at which time passes is starting to get to me. It doesn't help that so many of my friends and coworkers in Korea who are around the same age as me are getting married and having children, and many of the people I know back home are buying houses and moving up in their careers, while I'm just sitting here...living a life that hasn't changed much in two years. Sure, I'm a better teacher than I was 3 years ago. My apartment is nicer. My Korean has improved. But to go back to a metaphor I use too often, all of this just feels like grinding for XP. I've been leveling up my abilities and now it's time to start a new questline, but I can't seem to find anyone with that telltale exclamation point above their heads.

There are all sorts of new life stages to move into. Getting married is one that a lot of people around me are doing, and while I'm certainly not ready for that, I feel a similar push to start moving toward something bigger. More and more I think that something is grad school, but that means letters of recommendation and a great deal of money and every time I think about it I feel immediately overwhelmed and end up scrolling through tumblr mindlessly for an hour. This, unfortunately, is my main response to hardship and difficulty.

I suppose the real issue here is that I hate uncertainty. Once I have a goal, I'm stubborn enough that I generally pull it off even though I'm a bit of a human tire fire with a tendency to do things wrong in new and creative ways! I guess if you fuck up enough times in a row it makes a positive? So far, that seems to be the way I've worked my way through life, but since it's gotten me this far, I guess it works. Plus I have no idea how to change.

So, that's where I am right now, older than I ever considered myself being. When you're sixteen and dreaming of a better future, 25 seems like a lifetime away. Now that I'm past that, the world is stretching out before me like an overused first snow metaphor, and I'm stuck in place, afraid to leave the wrong footprints.

How To: Avoid Feeling Homesick

"Don't you miss your family? Aren't you homesick?" These are in the top 10 of questions everyone over here asks me, and while it's nice to know someone is concerned about my well-being, it makes me wonder if I'm the odd one out for not being homesick. This isn't new; I've been wondering about this same topic almost since I first arrived in Korea.

"Now, in the “Counseling Booklet” that Epik has provided me with, they give a very thorough explanation of the various phases of culture shock. The first phase? The “Honeymoon Phase”. The booklet describes this time as “the period just after arrival in a new country…everything appears to be exciting and novel. The individual rarely finds any problems with the new country and may feel euphoric. Many people believe that the new country is flawless.” Ever since I read that passage last week, it’s been floating around in the back of my head. Is my love affair with Korea going to fade into the more negative aspects of culture shock? Am I just romanticising things that, in a few months, I will realize I secretly hate?"

Well, I'm coming up on three years, and while the honeymoon phase is over, I can honestly say that I don't often feel homesick, and when I do, it's not crushing. Instead of ruining my day, it can be an almost enjoyable melancholy or nostalgia. Anyways, since I know that homesickness is a problem that many people deal with, I thought I'd write about my own experiences and how I fend off homesickness. Now, I can't say if any of these will be helpful for you, or even possible, but this is how I, personally, stay so positive in Korea.

Reason the first: Seattle Sucks

My life since middle school has been a long string of getting out of wherever I was. Getting out of middle school, getting out of high school, out of my hometown, and finally out of Seattle, where I went to college. Why a person might not enjoy life in a small town is pretty obvious. With a graduating class of 100, it didn't leave many options as far as friends went, and with a dwindling population and zero job prospects outside of barista, drug dealer, or starving artist (or the triple threat combo) ...well, I didn't waste any time shipping my own self off to college.

After graduating from the University of Washington with a BA in English and the newly kindled desire to teach, I made the big dumb mistake of taking a year off to "rest". Seeing as neither me nor my parents are independently wealthy, I couldn't just sit around for a year reading Marvel comics and drinking coffee, as much as that appealed to me. I needed a job, and with a degree in English from a great school, I was able to get a totally relevant job in the service industry. By relevant I mean totally irrelevant and by service industry I mean a tiny cafe that made crepes. As I was one of the only employees not in school at the time, I ended up going months without a full day off, working 50-60 hours a week, and still barely having the money to cover rent and life expenses. Minimum wage is just so awesome like that.

But at least now I am a certified crepist. Wait...

I was, in a word, miserable. It doesn't help that the weather in Seattle shares most of its characteristics with a damp sock. Even when things are going well in your life, unless you really enjoy overcast gray weather, it's hard to stay positive during the interminably long Seattle winters. And springs. And falls. And sometimes it stays cloudy even though summer, because the other 9 months just weren't enough!

What I'm saying is, probably the biggest reason for my lack of homesickness is that...well...there honestly isn't much for me to miss about home. Yes, I miss my friends and family, but with things like Skype and Facebook and Kakaotalk and email, it's easy to stay in touch on a level that keeps me from feeling the distance. Maybe this isn't the best kind of advice to give, since it boils down to "hate your home" and I know that's not something that most people are going to be able to do. I guess I'm just lucky to have had such a terrible time before I moved.

Get Busy

As they say, idle hands are the devil's...instruments? Playground? Idle minds are the devil's gymnasium? Look, I'm no expert in old sayings but you get what I mean. I think one of the biggest challenges, especially when you first move to a new place, is keeping yourself busy. Everything is going fine, you're feeling good, and then suddenly the weekend comes and you're on your own for two whole days. Personally, I start to feel down in the dumps when I don't have a lot to do, no matter where I'm living, but I feel like this is something that really matters for people who are trying to live in a foreign country. It's easy to feel isolated, and if you're just sitting around in your tiny apartment, that isolation only intensifies. So, instead of spending the whole time laying on your bed watching the English language movie channel and moaning about how much you miss your family/Taco Bell/good cheese, get your butt outside and do something!

"But I don't know Korean!" 

No excuse! Just go for it! Want to order food? Just point at something and hope for the best. Ursula the seawitch had it right: never underestimate the importance of body language. When I first got to Korea I was limited to "Hello" and "Thank you" as far as speaking went, but I was still able to joke with a coworker about mosquitoes, entirely through sound effects and acting.

This bit of advice is harder to follow the smaller your town is. Life in the middle of Seoul is about as similar to life in the rural country village as my students are to actual humans. Which is to say, not at all. But hey, this country is tiny. Do some traveling! Explore your (albeit) tiny town! Take up a hobby. Join a gym and get super buff (then teach me your secrets). 

Mr. and Mrs. Brightside

Lastly, and this is advice for pretty much everyone in any type of situation, try to find the positive part of what's happening to you. Bad thing will happen. Annoying things will happen. That's to be expected. Taxi drivers will try to cheat you on your fare. Classes will be changed and cancelled with no notice. Your coworkers will be passive-aggressive. Your students will make you cry. That's normal, and it sucks.

But the way I see it, focusing ONLY on the things that suck just makes them seem bigger. I really like the way Simon, from the Eat Your Kimchi folks, puts it in a blog post about staying positive: 

"I could be upset about dealing with our landlord, buuuut I have a soft kitty here[...]I could be upset that a project I had been planning fell through, but look at that sunset. Once you realize that all things are of equal significance[...]then the playing field is levelled. Good experiences and bad experiences have the same weight, so why not put my energies into experiencing the positives?"

I've always hated the saying "it takes more muscles to frown than to smile" because a lot of time, it's utter BS. Sometimes it's hard to smile. Sometimes pipes burst or cars break down or things just Go Wrong for seemingly No Reason. There's nothing you can do about that. It already happened. The best thing to do is to find the part of your day that didn't suck. Was there one funny thing a student said? Did you eat the most delicious strawberry ever? Did your mom send a photo of her new poodle? Focus on that. It takes practice, but trust me, it works out better in the long run.

I think this kind of thinking is especially important when you're living in South Korea, and probably any foreign country. Sorry Korea, but you're pretty...racist? I hate to pull out the R card, so maybe we can stick to xenophobic? Unaware that there are other types of people out there and that's okay? Whatever you want to call it, it's hard to be the one different person in a sea of similarity. I never realized how diverse the US was until I moved to Korea. As an American over here, as any type of foreigner I'm sure, it's easy to feel victimized or singled out. Any negative experience can be viewed through the lens of "it happened to be because I'm not Korean."

Sometimes, that's true. Other times, it's not. All I ask is that you take a second to consider if the taxi driver didn't stop for you because he hates Americans, or if maybe he just didn't see you. And even if its the former, will knowing that somehow make you happier? Personally, I know it won't. Even if I have to lie to myself once in a while, I'd rather assume the best in order to feel better, instead of assuming the worst and getting bitter.

So go out and enjoy life. Experience things, and when you miss friends and family back home, go do something interesting so you'll have the best stories to tell them when you meet again. Why do you think I've had so many adventures?

Home is Where?

Well, it didn’t matter. He’d had enough. He wasn’t going to try to understand anything anymore. He was going home.  

 Except that wizards can never go home.

-Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

I come back to that quote every once in a while. When I first read Sourcery, back in high school, I breezed right past it; during a more recent read, it jumped off the page and lodged itself in my brain, and so far, despite my best efforts, I've been unable to kick it out.

Home is something I think about a lot. I've moved so many times that it's taken on a sort of hazy, unfocused quality. There's my hometown, where some of my family is, the place when I spent my childhood. There's my mom's home, in a town I've never lived in. Is it Seattle, where I graduated college? When I say "I want to go home," what do I mean?

This isn't exactly an original line of thought, but it's something that always comes up after I visit my family. Almost exactly a year ago I wrote (if I may me gauche and quote myself): "So all this musing begs the question: where is my home? Seattle, Port Townsend, Sequim...I felt like a visitor in all three. In Korea...I will always stand out; that's okay with me, but [will I] ever find a place I can really put my roots down[?]"

I wish I could say things have changed drastically, but wishes, fishes, et cetera, no I can't. If anything, Seattle/Port Townsend/Sequim (hell is a triumvirate?) felt less like home on this visit, while Korea has remained largely the same; comforting, more settled perhaps, but not yet entirely home. While no part of me wants to move back to Seattle and live out my life as a Seattleite, there's something sad and nostalgic about letting go of that avenue.

As a child, I always liked to imagine what my life would be like in the future; this continued throughout university, and frankly, I still do it. Back then, my only examples of Cool Adults were in Port Townsend and Seattle, so most of my imaginings were very Northwest-centric. Maybe I'd live in one of those interesting old houses with hardwood floors, with a dog or a cat and a yard and a local coffee shop where I knew the owner. I'd drink tea on gloomy winter afternoons and try to survive until spring. Not a bad life.

That's not the life I want anymore, but even so, it's hard to let go.

Part of what moved me further away from my old roots this past year was, I believe, the fact that I've been living in an apartment that I really feel is my "place". For the first time in my life, I'm living by myself and in an apartment that is actually big enough for me to decorate and set up entirely in my style. Open space, nerdy posters, color coordination--I've been living the dream.

But alas...I have to move. I'm trying not to freak out, but when I first got the news, I was hard-pressed to keep my anxiety at bay. What about my furniture? My cat? Will I have to leave a neighborhood I've learned to love? I only ever expected to live in this place for two years, but that second year was sort of the point. It takes a while to really settle into a place, but once I'm settled, I'd like to...you know...enjoy it?? Is that too much to ask? Apparently yes. Yes it is.

I'm really nervous about this move. Last year moving was fine, because the goal was to move from a place I didn't care for to a better place. Nowhere to go but up! Now I'm moving from a place I love to...where? Who knows. I don't even have much control over the apartment-hunting situation. I am grateful that my school is helping me, I'm lucky to not have to pay rent, but even so...the older I get, the more I grow into my control-freakiness.

Well, at this point, there's nothing I can do but worry needlessly, and as much as I'm trying to do that less...it's an ongoing process. Here's hoping I get lucky and move into an even better place, and someday, just maybe, I'll finally find a place to go home to.

I Won't Share My Oreos

As you get older, birthdays get...complicated. It used to be so easy. Cake and candles, invite your friends over, a pile of presents, rinse, repeat. But now that I'm older, it's more of an annoying obligation that anything else at times. It feels as if I'm expected to have a party, expected to go out, when often all I want to do is stay home with a pizza.

This year is the first of those big, round number they put on greeting cards: 25 years old. I'm in a new age bracket on forms, no longer relegated to the 18-24s. In honor of making it halfway to when I can start being an eccentric aunt, I decided to celebrate this birthday in my own way. Instead of doing all the things I felt expected to do, I promised myself that I would only do what I wanted. 

My actual birthday was Monday, but I figured, why not take the whole weekend. Treat yo self, right? Saturday was amazing, though from the outside, very boring. I managed to roll out of bed around 11. After a couple weeks sleeping in a nest of blankets, a chance to really enjoy my new bed was really the only birthday present I wanted. My bedroom faces south, so the sun really lights it up during the day. 

The rest of the day was basically just...hardcore puttering? Is that a thing? If it isn't, it should be, because I puttered in a big way. I've been so busy that it feels like I live at school rather than in my apartment. As it turns out, moving to a bigger apartment means a great deal of work. To put it in perspective, my current bedroom is about the size of my old apartment, and my bedroom isn't exactly a cathedral. I'm pretty sure my new place is about 2-3 times the size of my old place, so even after a couple weeks, I'm still working on getting everything in order. Step by step.

I tried to bring the landlord's dog, Sunjin, with me on a walk, but I think he's still a bit too young and skittish to go off on an adventure with a non-family person. Honestly it was adorable. As I was leaving, his main owner said we should go together, and I was totally board, and so was Sunjin-- at first. We made it about 3 blocks before he abruptly decided that nope, nope, this was was not happening. I tried to reassure him but he was having none of it. Hopefully once he gets to know me better I can start taking him on my walks down by the river. I miss having dogs.

On Sunday I was ambushed. I was hanging out with some friends, with no particular plans. As I came back into the room after using the restroom, I could tell something fishy was going on. I was made to sit in a particular place. Everyone was acting a bit dodgy. By the time I realized the truth, it was too late: the cake was already entering the room, a lovely green tea cake with fruit on top from Tous Les Jours, so I honestly can't complain.

Monday should have been horrible. I had the worst schedule in the history of school schedules: 6 out of 7 class periods, mostly 3rd grade, plus debate club during lunch. Normally I only teach 4-5 classes, so 6 plus debate was just...horrible to imagine. However, thanks to some kind of ~birthday magic~ all of my classes went smoothly, or at least didn't make me want to hide under my desk and cry,

About once a month the old office crew, basically my work family, meets up for a meal and coffee. It's a great time to actually talk and catch up, since we're all in different schools and offices now. This time it lined up perfectly with my birthday, so they took me out for shabu shabu. It was so delicious, but I ate waaaay too much. Mushrooms, noodles, vegetables, meat, more mushrooms, wrap it up in some rice paper, dip it in sauce, enjoy, repeat until uncomfortably full.

There was too much food to fit into the shot.

However, apparently just eating way too much food was not enough, because we braved the rain to visit a bakery that I think belongs to my supervisor's...sister in law? Something like that. Anyways, the place renovated recently and started baking things. Really delicious and pretty things. Things that include super adorable cakes with fruit on top AND inside. Magical! It was also apparently the first cake ever made in the new place! I felt so honored!

So many delicious breads!

Too cute to eat.

Clever decorations.

Birthdays may be getting more difficult as time goes by, but this has been the best birthday I've had in a long time. What stands out the most is how...thoughtful people have been. Two of my students gave me oreos because they remembered an off-hand comment I'd made about loving them. They also told me I wasn't allowed to share them with anyone- these oreos are mine and mine alone, which was such a cute sentiment. Other new friends remembered that I'd chosen the green tea ice cream one time, so they chose a green tea cake. Elly gave me a lamp because she knows I read in bed. Hyeonji gave me candles to cheer up my new home.

I'm terrible at asking for what I want or need, but this time it worked out even without my help. If this birthday is an omen for this year, I've got a great time to look forward to.

 As a bonus, here's a video that Hyeonji took on the sly. We all thought she was just taking pictures! The sneaky monkey.

I Can't Stay but I Don't Want to Leave

I'll be moving soon, and this fills me with some conflicting emotions. On the one hand, my current place is a sort of glorified dorm room, with no kitchen to speak of and barely enough space to do, well, anything. On the other hand, my landlords are some of the sweetest people I've ever met. It's not unlike renting an apartment from your friend's grandparents.

From the very start, the woman who owns the building has been incredibly kind to me. I think she worries about me, since I live alone in a foreign country, without any family nearby. I still remember hurrying to the door, in the middle of unpacking a giant suitcase, to receive a plate of grapes. While it shocked me at the time, little did I know it was only the first of many kind deliveries at odd hours. Homemade kimchi and sikhye, more grapes, pears and even, on one memorable occasion, an extra plate of jajjangmyeon.

Her husband is a bit more intimidating, despite his rather small stature. He speaks with a gruff voice, barking out short statements and scowling, so for a long time I was kind of scared of him. However, as the weeks and months went by and my Korean improved, I realized that was just his style. Every time I left my apartment, he'd ask where I was going, and tell me to go and come back safely. If it was late, he'd tell me to be careful. If I struggled to find my keys in the detritus at the bottom of my purse, he'd get the door open for me.

~*~

While our day to day interactions are nice, it's during holidays that their kind and welcoming attitude really shines. I experience this first back in January, during the Lunar New Year. Unlike the new year in the US, this is less a time to go out with friends and more a time to stay home and eat a meal with your family; it's a bit like Christmas in that way.

Anyways, for various soju and videogame related reasons, I'd  been up pretty late the night before, so my landlady knocking (more like banging. she's surprisingly strong) on my door around 9 AM woke me from a deep sleep. Assuming it was just a package or possibly more grapes, I stumbled to the door in my pajamas, glasses askew, only to have it slowly sink in that not only was she asking me (in Korean) if I had eaten yet, but she was inviting me upstairs to join her family. I managed to mumble something along the lines of “No I haven’t eaten/just a minute please/thank you”.Considering that even basic English is often a challenge for me within 30 minutes of waking up, I considered even that much Korean to be a serious accomplishment.

Still in a blur, I threw on some halfway decent clothes, slapped on enough makeup to keep me from looking like a zombie, and tried to mentally prepare myself for meeting an unknown amount of people who probably didn’t speak any English. Apparently I didn’t gather myself fast enough, though, because my landlord also came down to invite me up. I guess they were worried I hadn’t understood? Or I thought I’d gone back to sleep?

Fortunately, the family was pretty laid back. When I knocked on the door, they quickly ushered me into the living room and made me sit and eat soup with the older daughter and son-in-law and grandson, Shion. Somehow, the kid was the only one whose name I learned. Fortunately, the son-in-law was pretty good at English, so when my broken Korean fell apart, he was able to help out. The food was delicious: rice cake and dumpling soup, fresh fruit, and various side dishes. I think most of the family had already eaten, because they were lounging around watching TV, while my landlady kept pushing more and more food at me. If I stopped eating for even a moment, she would give me a slice of apple or a strawberry on a tiny fork. I guess grandmothers are the same no matter where you go.

As my natural awkwardness in unfamiliar situations started to fade, I began to feel a bit like I was spending a holiday with my own family. A bit too full of food, sleepy, and vaguely watching television as my landlord puttered away at his craft project and the grandson and son-in-law played silly games on the floor.

The polaroid camera must have been a Christmas present.

However, the most surprising moment came when it was time for the family to do the traditional bows and greetings and giving of New Year’s money. I knew what was happening, but as the tenant guest I assumed that I would not be included. I’m not family, and a foreigner besides, so why would I butt in? Wrong! Not only did they push me forward to bow and greet the grandparents (which I managed to do without stammering or falling over), they even gave me some money! I was shocked, and so happy. They sent me home with kimchi and fruit, and a warm feeling of being adopted into yet another family.

~*~

Time passed, summer faded into fall, and suddenly Chuseok was upon us. Chuseok is more or less Korean Thanksgiving, a sort of harvest celebration with lots of cooking and certain food that is inextricably linked with the holiday. Fortunately, this time I was half expecting to be forcefully invited up to join my landlord for a meal, though despite my best efforts I still didn't manage to wake up in time to be ready when he banged on the door. Seriously, who is awake at 8:30 on a holiday. Crazy people.

I wasn't able to fit all the food in the picture.

You know what else was crazy? The amount of food. As you can see, they'd cooked enough to feed an army. Rice cakes, soup, bulgogi, some kind of beef dish, kimchi, various fried vegetables, japchae...I was completely overwhelmed.

Apparently in the months that have passed since new year's everyone forgot that I'm capable of using chopsticks, so I had to undergo the usual volley of questions. Can you eat spicy food? Can you use chopsticks? Do you like kimchi? Yes, yes, and yes. My landlady especially loved the fact that I liked her kimchi. As she explained to me with a laugh, her husband, her son and grand-daughter all don't like kimchi. I managed to get in a bit of a joke there, asking the son if he was Korean, to which his mom replied that he's probably an alien. Apparently my humor is only effective on old people and children. Not entirely sure what that says about me...

After eating more than I thought was possible, we all settled into a comfortable and sated quiet in front of the television, which is when I discovered that my landlord is a minor local celebrity. He makes these amazing sculptures and containers out of folded paper, and the best thing is, the paper he uses is recycled takeout menus, coupon books, and ticket stubs. Apparently this caught the attention of a local tv crew, because suddenly there was my neighborhood on tv, with reporters following my landlord around as he gathered the materials he needed.

This was my favorite.

Want to move in?

A small selection of the full collection.

He must spend most of his time on this hobby, and it's really adorable how proud of his work he is. When he caught me taking some pictures of the collection, he insisted on getting a shot of him sitting in front. He even gave me a small one! I haven't quite decided what to use it for, but I know I'll treasure it.

Well-deserved pride.

Hard at work.

Hard to believe it's made from coupons and train tickets!

I've found a new place to live, but it's not far. It's probably not likely, but I hope I'll be able to stay in touch with this incredibly kind and generous family. I wish it were easier for me to tell them how much I appreciate all they've done for me. I guess it's motivation to get back to work on my Korean studies, huh? A friend suggested I write a letter in Korean, but so much of what I want to say is way above my level. Being so far from family is one of the hard parts about living over here, but if I keep meeting people like this, I know I'll be able to survive.

No Direction Home

Wow, it's been a long time. All my grand intentions to keep up on my writing while I went back home for 2 weeks evaporated under the pressures of 3 towns in 2 weeks and more family and friends to meet than seems possible. I didn't even see everyone I wanted to, and I still felt like I needed a personal assistant just to manage my social calendar.

The oddest thing about being back home for two weeks was the way it made my life in Korea seem almost...unreal. As if it was nothing more than a very vivid dream. Now, part of this was caused by how much jetlag was addling my brain, making everything a bit more confusing and strange. It was a scary feeling, though. Before I moved to Korea, my life wasn't great. I was done with Seattle, and I felt like my life was on hold, like I wasn't moving in any useful direction. I was anxious all the time, frustrated, unclear about what I was supposed to be doing with my life.

Moving to Korea marked a huge change for me, not only geographic. I have a great job, a purpose, the feeling that I'm actually moving forward with my life. I'm happier, way less anxious, and problems that used to floor me seem much more manageable. So the feeling that all of that wasn't real that kept lurking around the edges of my brain was really scary and upsetting. Fortunately it was easily dismissed by a quick Kakao message to friends in Korea, or a browse through the pictures on my phone. Now that I'm back to Korea, it's Seattle that's started to fade back into unreality, but frankly? I'm pretty okay with that.

Returning to Seattle for two weeks made me realize something that I already suspected- Seattle isn't my home anymore. Before I even left Korea, I hesitated before ever saying I was "visiting home". "I'm going to Seattle," I'd say. Or "I'm visiting my family." Somehow calling it home stuck in my throat, even in regards to my hometown. Yes, many of my friends are there, but plenty of new friends are in other places. Yes, my family is there, and that's important, but what with Facebook and Skype and all the convenient ways to communicate over the distance, I don't feel a strong need to necessarily live near said family. Then again, I've always been the sort chomping at the bit to get out into the world, with less of a need for the nuclear family unit. Just don't tell my mom, okay?

So all this musing begs the question: where is my home? I may have felt the comfort of a homecoming when I stepped out of the taxi in front of the bakery near my apartment, but I don't really have strong feeling of home here yet. Seattle, Port Townsend, Sequim...I felt like a visitor in all three. In Korea I will never entirely belong, I will always stand out; that's okay with me, but in the long dark tea-time of the soul I do wonder if I'll ever find a place I can really put my roots down. Then again, Groot doesn't seem to have roots and he's doing just fine. Maybe I just need to become a space bounty hunter. Problem solved?