“...or I’m going through a quarter-life crisis,” I
told my friend. I was referring to the thoughts and feelings I’ve been having over the past few days. I don’t know if it’s the weather or…? but I’ve been feeling pretty
agitated with life.
My decision to leave South Korea last year was
based on many things. I didn’t expect a red carpet to
be rolled out for me coming back to South Africa, but I also didn’t
expect it to be *this* hard finding a job. I was positive that by this time, I
would have landed something.
I moved to Cape Town in July and have started living “properly” here for a couple of
weeks. I say “properly” because there were a couple of obstacles in my way before I could
feel completely settled.
Over the past few days, I’ve felt a sense of “missing” something and I realized I was actually missing South Korea .
But what do I really miss about it?
The food? My apartment? The efficient
public transport? The students I taught?
Or is it my financial independence and the
fact that I was a faceless being in an over-populated subway. No one knew me.
There is something comforting about being a “nobody” in a foreign place.
I was feeling pretty listless this past
week. I was doing the usual – applying for jobs,
sending my CV and application letters anywhere and everywhere, receiving e-mails
of rejection or not even at all.
Over the last 2
or 3 days, I had a thought: If I didn’t just commit myself to an apartment lease and move to Cape Town, I
would have packed up and gone back to Korea. I bought my first car in December
last year and even after purchasing it, I decided that if I ever wanted to go
back to Korea ,
I would. But things are different now, I have an apartment to consider.
What would life be like in
If I was missing Korean food so much, was
it reasonable for me to commit to a 12-month contract just because my taste
buds were longing the spicy tinge of kimchi again?
Was it reasonable to want to go back to Seoul just to go to
Yong-san (digital heaven)? I so miss buying gadgets!
I started questioning myself about why I
came back to South Africa
when I did. At the time of my decision to leave Korea , my 3rd contract
with the school had almost expired. I was at my peak. I wanted to leave on a very good note, where my relationships with friends were still healthy.
The other day I watched a documentary about the tsunami that
hit Japan earlier this year .
It was eerie, and the streets and people of the places hit reminded me so much
of my Korean friends again. I missed them and wanted to hear their voices. So I
decided to surprise them with a phone call.
Angelina Kim: My first manager and
co-teacher. She also played the role of my nurse, mother and big sister. She
was visiting family in Bucheon when
I called. She told me that she’d moved schools and is
now working in Bucheon, closer to where she lives. She’s still doing the same after-school English program that she started in
Siheung.
Kim Hung-joo: The head teacher of the 6th
grade staff who I was part of. He always had my back and we loved talking about
movies and current events. Some days after lunch, I would take the longer route
back to my classroom and office so that I could pass his classroom and see him.
He answered the phone saying, “Sheetal Makhan!” He told me that in six months time, he will move to another school.
Kim Hye-youn: My dinner, soju &
clubbing friend who would meet me after work on Saturday nights. She and I
traveled to Busan and Hong Kong together and
had some crazy nights of clubbing where we would head home at 7am! It was also
great fun going to concerts with her and she was a riot of fun. When she
answered my call, I said: “Julie!” referring to her “going out name”. After a few seconds and a gasp, she replied back saying “Chingu!!” meaning “friend”. We caught up for a
little bit and then she said to me, “Chingu,
chingu – I have a good news. I will marry this year.”
“WHAT?!” I said several times. Hye-youn was
adamant that she didn’t want to marry a Korean man, but here she was –
planning her wedding to a Korean man!
Lee Mi-hye: My
co-teacher and Korean mother who treated me with so much love and adoration I
could never forget her. She told me that
she also received one of the hacking emails that was sent from my address in July.
She told me about the governments’s plans to cut the budget of hiring English
teachers. After many months
of not working, Mrs Lee is now working as an English teacher at an elementary
school near her home.
Mr Lee (“Papa”): At
first, when he answered my call in Korean (“yeo-bo-se-yo?”) I
said “Hello!” and he hung up on me! I called back and this time, I said “Papa!” to
which Mr Lee replied, “Ohhh – Makhan! My is daughter!” We continued our broken
conversation for a couple of seconds where he asked about my family and health
and also told me that he wants to come to South Africa in 2012. “I is
come to Nam-a-gong...South Africa” He ended off the call by saying, “Ok,
Makhan ...I love my daughter!”
Lee Joo-hyeon: My
co-teacher and close friend who shared a ton of dinners and coffee dates with
me. We used to spend hours talking about all sorts of things. It was so easy with
Joo-hyeon, also mostly because her level of English was near perfect. She told
me that she’d been to Vietnam with her family recently. I
asked her to come to South Africa to visit me. “Really? Ok – let
me think about it.” She told me about some other teachers who had been
moved to other schools and that almost none of the old teachers who I knew were
there anymore.
Mrs Ham: The
sweetest woman I got to know and who, despite her very broken English, treated me like part of her family. I could feel her love.
I told her that I’m now
living in Cape Town and said, “My apartment...downstairs is Korean restaurant!”
“Jjin-jja? (Really?) Sheetal is happy,” said
Mrs Ham.
Kang Sun-hwa: A
temporary co-teacher who worked with me while my regular co-teacher was on
sabbatical. Sun-hwa is married to a Muslim man from Pakistan and she told me
about their recent celebration of Eid. In a few days time, she and her husband
will be traveling to her parents’ home to celebrate Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving).
Sun-hwa is now teaching a few students as part of their home-schooling at her
friend’s house.
Mrs Park: Mrs
Park's 2 children were in my class and I got to know Mrs Park very well when she
started her beauty therapy course. She invited me to her house where she did
facials for me – usually after work, and while I cleaned up
afterwards, she had a steaming helping of my favourite meal waiting for me
(dol-sut bi-bim-bap) and sometimes, if I was lucky, she used to make pa-jon for
me (Korean pancake). At the beginning of our relationship, Mrs Park relied a
lot on her children to translate our dialogues to each other. We soon discovered
the English-Korean dictionary on our cellphones and from there, continued our
broken conversations! She had her daughter speak to me and then her son, who I
knew in Grade 2. He’s now in Grade 6. “Sheetal! I miss you!” he
said.
Bae In-suk: She
was the teacher who taught the junior after school lessons and after her coming
to our English office to use the photocopier, we slowly developed a friendship.
She loved going out to dinners and movies and if our schedules agreed, we used
to meet up. “I don’t have another foreign friend after you leave
Korea. Sometimes, I want to speak English to someone, but then I think of you.
I miss you,” she told me.
Every person I
spoke to asked me the same question, “Do you have plans to come back to Korea?”
About an hour and
a half later, I got to thinking about all the people I had just spoken to on
the phone. Everyone had moved on to a different sphere of their life. Why was I
wanting to go back in time? If I was longing for the comfort and familiarity of
the old school I worked at, I was guaranteed I wasn’t going to get that.
Everyone I knew had moved on to another school – some to greener
pastures.
Friends who I
relied on as my “last-remaining single friends” were now planning their
wedding, while others (in their own words) were “keen to have a baby
soon.”
Everyone was
moving forward. And here I was - longing to go back. Would I be happier if I
were to go back to Korea? To live in the same kind of solitude, surrounded by a
language that I only knew little of? To where I had very limited choices when
eating out (since I’m a vegetarian?) to a place where I was
continuously asked to produce my ARC (Alien Registration Card) reminding me
time and time again that I am an “alien”?
If anything, I
was very happy that I made all those calls to my Korean friends, as it helped
put many things into perspective. I need to stop being so hard on myself for the rut I seem to be in. My
time will come. The perfect job will come to me. I will be happy. I can't stop and rewind my life. I won't even try to fast forward. I will just hit play and enjoy it as best I can.
Above all, God has a wonderful plan for me. This, I’m sure of.
1 comment:
I really enjoyed your post. Seems like you really miss Korea. When non-Koreans fall in love with Korea, I always assume its because of sexual attraction. Of course the culture, food, and nightlife play a part, but these are usually the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th reasons. So who was he? Any posts about your romantic life in Seoul?
Post a Comment