Nostalgia

Nostalgia - it's delicate, but potent. Teddy told me that in Greek, "nostalgia" literally means "the pain from an old wound." It's a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn't a spaceship, it's a time machine. It goes backwards, and forwards... it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It's not called the wheel, it's called the carousel. It lets us travel the way a child travels - around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know are loved. 

-Mad Men, Season 1 Episode 13

So I think I have written about homesickness already. And if not, it's not necessarily because I don't feel it. I have actually been fairly homesick lately, though the interwebiverse serves as a good mitigator of that mess. Still, it's a weird feeling to know that the world keeps turning without you around. Life events happen whether we are there to observe them or not, and that point was unexpectedly driven home yesterday with the news of two of my college friends' engagement (PS congrats, losers. Have fun being shackled together for the rest of eternity).

But that's not really what prompted this entry (I've been working it out mentally for about a week now), and that's not really the kind of homesickness I'm talking about. Of course I do miss specific people, places, and things (BUT NOT IDEAS! NEVER IDEAS!), but what I think I've been missing more is the sense of comfort and security from knowing that we are in a place we can call "home". 

See, we (and I say "we" because I am pretty sure most of my readers grew up like I did in safe, relatively secure families who for the most part provided well for us) grew up with a distinct sense of security. Most of us had families who loved us, and provided for us. Even though there was turmoil in our lives, it was relatively minor - our entire lives/livelihoods/families were not destroyed by acts of nature or war; nor did we have to actively fight for our own survival on the mean streets of Rotterdam or something (twenty five points to whomever gets that reference). 

So we grow up in this relatively easy way until we take the next natural step and leave the nest. (Again, for most of the people reading this) that next step was college - which leads into this horrible, seemingly-interminable phase called Transitioning To Adulthood. In college, we are surrounded by our peers. And while for me it involved moving EVERY GODDAMN SUMMER, it was still a relatively stable place. I knew that I would be coming back at the end of every summer to (mostly) the same people in (mostly) the same place. 

But after graduation, all that changed. I wouldn't actually move again for another three months, but I immediately lost any secure sense of place. Yes, I still had my friends and family supporting me, and yes, I still had a place to live, but as a consequence of being underemployed, I always felt this constant struggle to settle down into a comfortable rhythm, so I could start building stability. And even then, I felt like I was in a holding pattern before I went off to grad school. And now I'm here in Korea, again without a stable, comfortable sense of place following two enormous moves in six months, bringing the total number of moves I've made since 2004 to 10. It creates this sense that I am, in some way, out of sync with the world around me. An outsider looking in on all these people's real lives.

And I don't think this is unique to me. One of my friends calls it the second puberty, and I think that's particularly apt. It's a growing pain, emblematic of all 20-somethings (a barf term, I know) who are really only just now starting to figure out who the hell they are.We stumble through, figuring out what it is we want out of life. And not just the nice car or the big house, but that singular driving force that will push us forward. I think the Olds call this "youthful idealism". I call it a necessary part of growing up.

So what does this have to do with nostalgia and homesickness? It's like Don Draper says - nostalgia is a twinge in your heart more powerful than memory alone. To paraphrase, it is a desire, a longing to go back home. Maybe not "home" in some specific sense - I'm not desperate to move back to Katy, TX or even the USA for that matter. But what I - and what I think EVERYONE my age is looking for - is that stability, that comfort, that sense of belonging to a place that we had when we were kids. And it's not going to go away just yet, because it's not just a place we can pack up and move to (I've clearly tried). It's a place we all have to build, in our own ways. We build it with our community, we build it with our careers, but most of all, we build it just by living our lives. So keep on living - one day, perhaps one, five, ten years from now, we'll wake up living and realize we are, in fact, home.

Anyway, sorry for the lengthy, morose post. Here is a funny video to lighten the mood!

Ugh. (WARNING: WHINY POST AHEAD)

Today in the Magical World of Nolen's Successes, I blew out a candle in my bathroom. And got hot wax all over my face. (I'm fine, but still picking wax out of my hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes, thanks for asking.)

This minor inconvenience has been pretty indicative of my last week or so...a lot of little, ridiculous annoyances adding up to just BLAH. So now I'm gonna tell you about it, internet. AREN'T YOU LUCKY???

It's a little hard to quantify, actually, but things just seem to have been piling up lately. Like my students (Qualifier: most of the time I really do like them, I promise!). For example, the other day as their class was being dismissed, one of the girls came to stare awkwardly at me, as is their custom. Since it was pretty warm last week, I had my sleeves pushed up - not the first time I've done this, mind you. But the kids are pretty obsessed with my arm hair, since I have a lush forest growing on my arms, and that is definitely not customary here in Korea. One of their favorite pastimes is to pet my arm hair. It started out as endearing, but it's gotten pretty old. Yes, I have arm hair. Yes, it's different from what you're used to. BUT MOVE ON.

And especially when I ask you to please stop, don't look at me, tell me "no" and continue to do it! And THEN when I tell you to leave my desk, don't giggle and say no again! It doesn't help that I don't know enough Korean to explain myself to her in Korean, not that it would help. When I speak Korean, mostly they just start talking about how I can speak Korean and spend the next 5 minutes trying to get me to say more things in Korean! Basically, to them, I am not a teacher, I'm this giant freak standing at the head of the room with whom it's play time.

I only get a little help from my co-teacher on this front, and the rest of the school teachers? Absolutely not. They see me in basically the same light as my students. And I'm at the point where I hate it. I hate being this freak to be gawked at. I hate being two sizes to big for this country. I hate that my students give me no respect, and look at me like I'm their pet. I hate planning, I hate students, I hate teaching. I hate that somehow, I am expected to make students come to classes their parents don't have to pay for, are after school, and conflict with their other activities. I hate that I am expected to do this not speaking their language. I hate coming home exhausted. I hate not knowing what people around me are saying. I hate not being able to eat properly because I don't really have anyplace - or anything - to cook. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

Two qualifiers:

First, everything I've read online talks about the three month phases. For the first three months, everything is new and exciting and shiny and you are just so excited to be here! And then at about the three month mark, the contrast between your home culture and the new culture becomes stark. You become annoyed, agitated, and most of all, homesick for your comfort zone. And then, three months later, you start finally truly adjusting to the new culture. You find your niche, and things begin to improve. I just have to get there.

And I'm sure I will. I have good friends here, and a well-placed trip to the States for Justin's wedding in slightly less than two months. Which, coincidentally, is the end of the semester, leading to a break from the current routine. I also have a plan to keep myself occupied and active, which will hopefully help. So it's not all bad news.

The second qualifier: I don't always feel like this. In fact, I don't usually feel like this. I'm pretty good at finding the positive (no comments from the peanut gallery, thank you very much), and most days I'm excited to go to school, and I really do like this country. I promise, I really am doing well, I'm just having a blah moment, and I think it's important to let everyone know it's not all sunshine and smilestimes here. And I only occasionally get candle wax all over my face. So. NO WORRIES, PEOPLE.

Quick haircut update

So last night I finally gave up and got my hair cut. You guys, it was getting pretty drastic...I was verging on mullet territory. So I talked to my friend who'd recently gotten her haircut from a great stylist who spoke English, and we set up an appointment for myself and a friend of mine whose situation was nearly as bad (think more sticking out at the sides than mullet), and we headed down to Seojeong-ri. Now, if you know anything about Korean (or East Asian hairstyles in general), you know they can be pretty dramatic...

Beast (top) and 2PM (bottom) showing off their style.

So I was just a little bit nervous headed in there. I just cannot pull off that look, no matter how much I try. I am just not dynamic enough. Fortunately for me, we sat down, were given some tea, and talked about what to do with our hair with Jieun, our stylist. Who, by the way, is awesome. I was very pleased with how my hairstyle turned out:

Strike a pose. Vogue.

While Mike's was decidedly more Korean. But without the pointy sideburns:

Deer in headlights. Vogue.

So afterwords, we headed to grab some dinner and decided on samgyeopsal. Which is basically bacon for dinner. It was delicious. The end.

Weekend Update

Another weekend has come and gone, and this time, instead of lazily linking to a friend's post about it, I'm going to do my own work! NOW YOU ARE STUCK WITH MY WRITING MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Ahem.

This weekend was fairly quiet, as I had approximately one mountain of laundry to do on top of ::shudder:: lesson planning (cue Bernard Hermann score). But on Saturday, I did manage to have a dynamic* day filled with Kim Yuna in Seoul.

It started out auspiciously enough, as I arrived at Nambu Station to meet friends about an hour late. It wasn't entirely my fault, however...I got off the train at the wrong station. But that's because there were two stations named Seoul National University! And they aren't even right next to each other! When you have a subway system as extensive as Seoul's, you're bound to run out of names eventually, I suppose. Anyway. I got there, which is all that matters, and we made our way to the Coex shopping mall to grab some lunch.

And that's where we saw her. Kim Yuna, plastered ALL OVER the walls. This girl is EVERYWHERE, and with good reason! She is amazing! She is all that anyone could ever hope to be and more! She is the very pinnacle of female beauty, talent, grace and awesomeness! And she has like six billion sponsors, all of whom pay her seven

figure contracts! THIS GIRL IS LOADED.

Pictured: Me, being very nearly as awesome as Kim Yuna at the Coex shopping center.

The mall was pretty blaise, insofar as these things can be in South Korea (read: the mall was about fifty million times more intense than a standard American mall). We had lunch, looked around, and then took our leave to Jamsil to find a Teddy Bear Factory or whatever for Alanna. While there, we headed to the Lotte Department Store and let me tell you, THAT is a store. You may think, "oh the Macy's flagship in NYC is better," or "oh the Marshall Fields in Chicago was better," but no. Just...no. NONE of these stores have anything on the unbridled consumerism that is the 12 floors of the Lotte Department Store.

Everything, but everything, can be found here, from the grocery store on the basement floor to the wedding planner on the 10th. It. Was. Heaven. I will be back (they have a Nespresso boutique AND an Apple store), and I will spend way too much money here.

None of these adventures, though, could compare to what was in store for Alanna, Jill, and me. The main goal of our day was now to get to Namsan Park and head to the top of N Seoul Tower, the tallest building in South Korea. And if you know me, you know how

much of a sucker I am for a view.

Working under the impression that we could find this place ourselves in a reasonable amount of time, we followed our guide book to what we thought was the appropriate station, and immediately decided to take the wrong exit. It's not entirely our fault, though, as the sign did

say it was for Seoul City Tower. Which is, apparently, not N Seoul Tower. Two very different buildings.

After ignoring the advice of some less-than-helpful Korean guys, we found the appropriate exit from the Seoul Station (which, btw, has like 14 exits), and after a few minutes of

walking caught a glimpse of the tower. Success! Or rather, not quite success. We were still quite a ways away, so we decided to take a cab. Advice when in Korean cabs: know where you're going, and know how to say it in Korean. We

climbed in the cab, and proceeded to drive RIGHT BY the entrance to Namsan Park and ended up just as far away from the tower as we were when we started, and just as unsure how to get there.

Our initially hopeful sighting of Seoul Tower

Look. I know what you're saying. "Why didn't you just get a map? Or ask someone? Or try again with a different cab? Or give up and find a nice dinner someplace and then maybe go

noraebang? What's wrong with you people???" Yeah well shutup. This is Korea, damnit! It is a dynamic place, and we are going to be dynamic people and go with the dynamic flow and if that means taking seventy billion different forms of transportation to get to Seoul Tower (including a glass Wonka-vator and a cable car), then well that's what we're going to do!

And we did. And it was pretty worth it. By the time we arrived at the top of the tower, it was nighttime, and the city was all lit up. It's a shame that none of my photos of the view really turned

out, but it really was kind of awesome. They put on the windows the names of cities in those directions, and the distances from that point to those cities. Which was cool, but it also really drove the point how far away from home you are.

Best shot of the view I could find.

It was getting late, and we had heard tell of a Thai place in Yongsan, so we decided to head over there for a late dinner before heading back to our little corner of southern Gyeonggi-do. Of course, when we got there, we had to spend about a half an hour trying to find it. And of course, when we did, it was closed. So of course, we headed to a convenience store in the train station for our dinner: Korean doritos and Cass beer. DINNER OF CHAMPIONS, SON.

Yuna would be proud.

Yu-na-it.

*A note on dynamism: Korea's slogan is "Dynamic Korea". Everything in Korea is super dynamic. The sights, the sounds, the smells. Dynamic. When you think of South Korea, you must think of dynamism. It is the law.

I need to blog about this RIGHT NOW

This morning, I was walking to school, listening to my iPod as is my wont. As I was climbing the hill to get to my school, a police car drives past me and pulls over up ahead. I don't really think too much about this, because...it's a car pulling over. Who even notices that? Well the policeman gets out of his car, and starts walking toward me.

ME (bowing): Annyeong haseyo
ME (in my head): ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap whatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoido
OFFICER: Are you very busy?
ME: Oh, I am walking to school right now
ME (in my head): oh god no now he's talking to me

So then the officer beckons me into the backseat of his car. His POLICE car. Now I don't know about you, but the backseat of police cars is neither a place I have spent much time, nor a place I WANT to spend much time. So mentally I'm FLIPPING OUT at this point.

Anyway he starts talking to me, asking the standard Korean questions for when you first meet a person: "What do you do?" "How old are you?" "Are you single?" "How's your sex life?" (I'm only kidding a little about the last one, very few people have asked me that). Of course the natural American response is "Are you coming on to me??" but here in Korea these questions are just a way of putting you in the social hierarchy.

As we're talking, two things happen: first, it comes out that he just wants to practice his English. Which, great. I know I'm here to be an English teacher, and I don't mind talking to you, but I'm seriously on my way to my job for which I do NOT want to be late, thank you very much!

The second, and more distressing, thing that happens is that we drive past my school. JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL. Turns out that he misunderstood me and thought I was teaching at Osan University. Wonderful. After much negotiation, and my one post-it note with the address of my school on it, he understands that I am an elementary school teacher and drops me off at school. Late*. Wonderful.

I gave him my email address, and I think he wants to email me to have a conversation time, so I guess I made a new friend...yay?

*I was only five minutes late, and we are supposed to be at school 20 minutes before class starts, so this only really cut into my prep time before class. Still sucky, but not the worst thing in the world.