Pages

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Farewell

Stripping down the walls and wiping out the drawers. Sending off the clothing and heirloom bottle openers and Thom Yorke posters. Change of address, phone cancellation, key pass off. Tomorrow I must leave my apartment of two and a half years, my palace on F Floor, the one room to house them all for more time than most take to get a graduate degree. In other words, this shit is real, folks. Korea is definitively over and it finally feels as such. Months of planning and preparation for a some day which is finally today.

Only one tear-jerking moment as of yet: 2 weeks ago my students threw me an early farewell party. They taped balloons and a message on the board. They insisted that I eat the entire cake alone (After much debate about whether they should contribute to its consumption by merely picking the white chocolate shavings off the top or each taking a sliver of the cake itself, in the end they opted for both). The part that realy choked me up though were the letters claiming that they'd "never forget" me and thanking me for being a "great teacher." Hold it down, be strong, you can cry on the boat across the Atlantic. After all, what more will you have to occupy your time?

I've spent my last month in the way I love best: eating all my favourite foods, singing my heart out at noraebang, and introducing everything I love about Korea to the fresh eyes of replacement teachers. Between meals, playlists, and tours, I've spent my nights for the past several weeks bidding a fond, inebriated farewell to my haunts, my neighbours  my hometown, and all my friends. I don't use "my hometown" lightly here: I'd hate to be one of those foreigners who comes back from abroad and feigns a closer connection with a country after 2 years than after 20. However, since my family has left my hometown of Georgia, I've been faced with a unique dilemma. All the people I love are in one state, and all the places with which I am familiar are in another. It takes both people and locale to make a hometown, and now I don't have that combination anywhere in America. Until Korea empties of close friends, this is the most "hometown" I've got these days.

To all my friends here, thank you. There is little in my short years that I could describe as "stand out," but Korea has been an experience that will change me for life. I've experienced great happiness and tragedy here, and to the people who've shared either with me I am indebted. To everyone back home, it has been too long. Many will have to wait a bit longer, but I'm coming around the long way. Whether I see you before or after my trip this winter, I'm looking forward to the relationships in my life that I've always been able to count on, regardless of time or distance.

A coworker asked me this week what I regretted about my time in Seoul. Though a fair question, I didn't have an answer for him. Were I to be asked now I might say, "I wish I studied the language harder," or, "If only I could have made more local friends," but in absolute honesty there's nothing I would do differently. I came to travel, and I did a great deal of that. I came to hone my Korean, and I'm more than satisfied with where I've gotten. I came to bolster the resume and make paper: done and done. All the goals were accomplished without sacrificing comfort, experience, or fun. Korea has been good to me, and it will be under my skin during the foreseeable future.

너를 사랑했기에 후회 없기에 좋았던 기억만 가져가라 I don't regret having loved you, so carry with you only those memories which were good.
~Big Bang

No comments:

Post a Comment