(5) 90 in 90: The Short Goodbye

One of the sad and ultimate inevitable things that every foreign language teacher runs into while teaching overseas is the flurry of goodbyes that comes from teachers leaving the country to return home.

The amount of time teachers spend overseas varies. Some spend just a year abroad before heading back home. Some spend several years living overseas, carving themselves a nice little lifestyle that lets them do something different and separated from the norm of their country of origin while still having a comfortable life.

The reason people come to teach in Korea differs from person to person. Out of every person I've talked to, each person has had a slightly different reason for being here. Some come here to pay off student loans. Some come to find a better job and a means to escape from their country's economic situation. Some even come here due to a love of Korean culture and a desire to immerse themselves in it for a period of time. Each person has a slightly different story on what led them to Korea, making each person's back story all the more interesting.

For these reasons, you come to meet some pretty cool people living here with you. Teaching is not really a job for introverts. To succeed at teaching you need to be somewhat sociable and able to communicate with other people. Working and living in Korea has not only given me the opportunity to meet many native Koreans, but native English speakers from all over the world. It's been a wonderful experience to meet many people and see perspectives from other people and customs. I can honestly say that becoming friends with people abroad has broadened my horizons and views of many things that I would have never achieved staying inside my own enclosed bubble.

However, for as many people you come to meet and become acquainted with, an almost equal number you come to part ways with. Being a English language teacher is not a long term job, nor is it an adequate career for someone to have. People eventually have to return home.

People go back to find a job related to their major. Some leave to explore other opportunities. Some even go because they've become quite fed up with Korea and want to leave while they still can.

Whatever the reason, it doesn't make the goodbyes any easier nor does it make the reality that all the teachers face any less brutal.

Lifelong friends are difficult to make abroad. While it certainly is not impossible, the ratio of people who leave on a yearly basis compared to the amount of time it takes for someone to become comfortable and form a close relationship with someone does not match up. There are several people I consider to be on very good terms with. Despite our closeness though, I can already tell that the people that I have a chance to see again or keep in touch with in a meaningful way is very small.

This leads many teachers to become introverted. Not going out of their way to make friends or make a strong effort to become close to people. After all, what is the point if they're going to leave in a year (for other teaching programs in Korea, sometimes even less).

For me however, it stands a constant reminder to cherish and remember the times we have together. Value the little things that happen everyday and appreciate the moments you share with the ones you care about. While they may not be around forever, the memories and experiences you create will.

I was once told that years from now, we won't remember the names of all the people we met or the places we all met at. What we will remember are the times we had together and the reasons we remember these events to begin with.

I may not see all of you forever, but the memories we shared in this sometimes great, sometimes horrible and sometimes strange country called Korea will last forever.

So with that, I say goodbye to all of you leaving. Take care, and to quote a favorite game of mine: "I'll see you when I see you."*

I'll see you when I see you Gordon!

The quote is from Half Life 2.

Half Way In: Birthdays, Goodbyes and Half way points

It is now September, seven months from when I first came to Korea and began working for EPIK and stepped foot into Korea for the first time. Before I get too far into details, I will say that this is going to be a slightly sentimental post on all of the things that I have seen and witnessed since coming to Korea. However, this was not a blog post that was planned or even given second thought. There were no plans to celebrate my anniversary in Korea and the time spent here.

The truth is that if I were not writing this post, I would have probably forgotten about how long I have been here. The old line of feeling just like yesterday has never made more sense to me since coming to Korea. Time seems to go so fast here. There’s always work to go to, people to visit and places to go. I used to enjoy the quiet moments of doing nothing and being lazy but with this new, upbeat lifestyle change, I find it hard to sit still more than a day. I am always wanting to move around and always wanting to get outside, even for a bit and get some fresh air. I am slowly becoming a man of motion, and stopping for anything feels odd and like a waste of time.

It's not a birthday without cake

The last couple weeks have been significant in contributing in the nonstop lifestyle. I recently celebrated my birthday with my first birthday party with friends in my life. It was a small and simple event but one that I was very fun to take part and of and very thankful to participate in. I always used to feel that celebrating your birthday was a slightly selfish act of self indulgence and always felt slightly embarrassed for wanting to have one, however this was a lot of fun. I loved having some good friends around to eat, drink and have a fun time. It’s taken 25 years but I finally figured out that the best birthdays aren’t the ones where lavish attention is spent on the birthday boy/girl, but rather its using your day of birth to spend time around and remind yourself why you are thankful for being alive for and kicking for this long.

Last week also marked two events held at the same time, the birthday of one of my dearest friends and the departure of another good friend.

Our histories go back a few years. The person celebrating their birthday was someone I knew from back in the day as a university student. We became good friends and quite close before she had to go back to Korea and I went my separate way. It was not until this year that I would actually see her again.

As for the person leaving, this person was the best friend in Korea to my friend from the university (still following?). I ended up becoming friends with her and despite the short time of knowing her, got to become good friends.

The group assembled 

The party was a dual celebration of one friend leaving and one friend’s birthday. What made it special was the attendance. I had meet friends and friends of friends through various networks and meet ups through these two people. When I was finally able to see most of them all in one place, in the same room, talking to one another, it was a great moment for me. I was always a sucker for uniting groups of people for common causes and it was especially heartwarming to see all of us coming together to give one person one last goodbye and another person some birthday wishes.

My months in Korea have been memorable and exciting. I have learned, grown as a person and discovered more about myself and others than any other point in my life so far. I hope my remaining time in Korea can be spent learning more, growing more and meeting more people.

Despite being miles from home I can say with complete conviction that I am content and happy with my life. I don’t have all the answers yet, but right now, I don’t need to. Life is simply on auto pilot now. The top is down, the skies are clear and the road is long and empty for miles on end. 

Chapter 5: Last Stop in a Little Town

I was jolted awake by the sudden lurch and stop of the bus. As I opened my eyes and looked out my window I could see that the bus had come to a stop and was parked next to the other busses traveling in the region. We had come to a rest stop.

I stepped off the bus to see a mass of other teachers standing in groups. Soon the leader of bus made an announcement that we had two hours of resting and lunch before heading back on the bus and finally going our separate ways. A majority of the group walked towards a small restaurant. It was close to noon. It was lunch time.

I entered the restaurant, a building not much larger than a dorm room that somehow was able to accommodate the nearly 80 teachers wanting a quick bite to eat. I found Moise already ready to sit down and eat. He was right; we did find each other again.

We ate our lunch mostly in silence. I had little to say at this point. When there was little to say or comment on I was known to go silent and not say a word. A trait most commonly mistaken for apathy or anger but instead was neither. It was appreciation. It was absorbing the moment and burning it into my brain. It was moments like these, the quiet little moment that I appreciated most and was something that I never wanted to loose that memory of.

After finishing my meal, I headed outside along with Moise. With a little over an hour to spare, walking around the little town was the best option and time killer.

The town was quaint and kitschy with souvenir shops, small convenience stores and cheap looking motels making up most of the landscape. In the backgrounds loomed massive mountains stretching into the cloud lined sky. It was beautiful, a small but perfect looking little town taken from a time long ago, the quiet nature and sounds of nature a departure from the hustle and noise of the city. This was a place that progress and time had forgotten, with  people seeming content with it.

During our short walk around, we ran into Hannah and another person we met during orientation, Jessica. As we continued to walk around the town we poked fun at the residents, went exploring in the nooks and crannies and talked about how small it was. I wondered if my town would look like this, small and isolated from the modern world. I wasn’t sure if I liked that idea. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to live so far removed from everyone else.

The hour passed and we were instructed to get back on the bus. The ride to meet out co teachers would only be a few minutes away.

We left the small town behind and only five minutes later, reached the parking lot where our co teacher waited for us. Once the bus stopped it was a rush and mass of people as we all gathered around trying to find our teachers and our bags.

My teacher found me quickly, the hastily drawn sign containing my name in black magic marker letting me know who I needed to be with and where I needed to go.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, I found Moise and Hannah in the crowd to give them a quick goodbye.

“Stay safe, see you around one day,” said Moise as he gave me a hug.

“See you around, talk to you on Facebook. Don’t be a stranger,” I said.

I gave Hannah a hug and told her I would see her soon.

“We’ll see each other again, in Jeju or somewhere nice,” she said with a smile on her face.

I walked towards my co teacher and took one look back as everyone scrambled to gather their belongings and find their partner. I was finally ready to head out on my own. This was the moment over a year in the making.

Dragging my bags behind me I headed back towards my co teacher. 

Chapter 4: Sending Off

The morning the EPIK teachers were supposed to leave was not the large heartfelt send off that I envisioned the night before. The time that we were supposed to check out of the dormitory was in the early hours of the morning. After going to bed later the night before, 6 Am came much sooner than I expected. Time has a funny effect on you need more of it, and the four hours of sleep seemed insignificant in combating my fatigue.

I made my way to the cafeteria, the cafeteria where for the last week would be one of the few places we could all be together at the same time. Most of the people I had gotten to know were already there, dressed in their best dress clothes and unusually quiet. Today would be the day we were finally separating, going on our own to unfamiliar locations in an unfamiliar country. Our only contact and form of assistance would come from our co-teacher’s. Some of who were teaching for the first time and just as inexperienced as us. Like anywhere in the world, first impressions were the important impressions, and with us having to rely on our co-workers to help us out, making the best impression was our goal.

While meal time was usually spent with discussion and laughter everyone was unusually quiet today. The mood was far from somber but the active discussions were far less frequent than normal. Everyone knew what was happening, where we going and how we would be separated. We wanted to soak in the moment, to enjoy what time we had left.

After breakfast we began to pack the last of our things, to prepare for the trip that lied ahead of us. The lobby was packed with luggage and people gathering in designated areas that would lead them to busses that would take us all over Korea. Some people excitedly chatted with one another about their new cities and new lives. Some just stood alone, waiting for the announcement to board their bus.

I walked outside with Moise and Hannah. We were all talking about how we would see each other again and how we could never truly be separated. A large group of our friends was already leaving to head to Incheon, a city that would be at the very least four hours away from us. As we walked to the parking lot to wave goodbye at the departing bus we saw our friends smile and wave back at us. It lasted less than a moment but it was a powerful and fitting way to bid farewell. Happy, excited and eager to see one another again.

“I feel like we’re sending them off to war,” I joked as the bus disappeared off in the distance.

Moise laughed. “Goodbye. See you later. We’ll remember you even in death.”

“Gosh guys, we’ve only been here a week and it feels like we’ve been here much longer,” said Hannah.

“I feel like I’ve known you guys forever. It’s hard for me to explain why. I don’t even think I have a real reason,” I said.

Soon it was time for our bus to depart. The region where I was assigned was large enough to need several busses to take us to our individual destinations. I left Moise and Hannah, hoping that our bus would take a rest stop or break before heading to our co teachers and getting one last chance to say goodbye.

“See you in a few hours,” I told Moise as I boarded my bus. Not sure if it was the truth or not.

The bus left with a lurch and as I sat alone on the bus staring out at the passing landscape, I thought back to all of the experiences I have had so far, the people I have met and the strange thought that only two weeks before I was still in my home, in my own bed thinking about the adventure that was surely going to await me once setting down in Korea.

The bus traveled on. I closed my eyes. For a moment I was in another place of restful bliss.

A moment of peace before the real adventure was to begin.

Chapter 1: Departure

A year's worth of struggle, mis-direction and uncertainty was finally coming to an end. I stood in front of the bus stop as my family stood behind me. I was only minutes away from leaving behind the people that I have known longest in my life to travel to a country on the other side of the world. This was not the first time I had left behind my family, friends and hometown for an overseas trip, however this one would be different. This one was more than just a vacation or a simple job that lasted a few months.

This was a year long commitment in a country I was not the least bit familiar with. This was a journey into the complete unknown.

I had always talked about traveling. Dreams of getting away from my sleepy little town and seeing the world. What started as naive childhood dreams they soon turned into a reality for me. Once was enough to hook me. To convince me that my life's calling lay beyond the confines of my comfy little town. Traveling and exploring had found its way into my body with the only cure a few thousand miles away.

As the bus finally was ready to depart I gave my family the last physical farewell for a long while. I knew deep in my heart that I would see them again and though I did not act it, I knew I would miss them very much. They understood me. They understood my need to travel and see the world, even if they did not agree with it entirely.

“You're an adult now Kyle. I can no longer tell you what to do,” said my mother to me. “You have to live your own life. Chase your own dreams.”

As I boarded the bus I gave one last hearty wave goodbye with a smile on my face. I didn't want to them to be sad, I didn't want anyone to miss me. As selfish as those wishes were, I didn't want to hurt my family anymore. I wanted them not to feel sadness or loneliness but rather encouragement that I was embark on a new adventure, a new beginning.

The family (minus parents) 

It would only be one week later that I would understand how my family felt. One week later when the very concrete fact of being alone in another side of the world would sink in and paralyze me with fear and uncertainty. In my darkest and most fearful moments my thoughts would go to my family. They were the ones that mattered most, They were the ones I needed by me in times of crisis. They were the ones who I did not want to lose.

I sat down on the stiff seats as the bus rumbled along the highway. In less than a few hours I would be boarding a plane to Korea to start my new life. With a thousand bucks to my name and my entire life packed away into two suitcases.

As I started out the window I remembered the words my professor had told me in the past:

“One day you'll have to face the world on your own. It's is going to suck, but its what you have to do to grow and mature. You have to take control of your life. You have to become a man.”

His words echoed in my head, their abstract meaning finally making sense. So did the sadness and heavy heart of my parents.

I was twenty four years old, but still not an adult. I still had trials to face, challenges to overcome.

They were not losing a grown son eager for adventure, they were using their little boy about to embark on a journey that would most likely shape his life forever.

I was leaving a child.

I was coming back a man.