I don’t know that my life in Korea has had anything in particular going for it, or even if I ever really clicked with this country. But after more than two years, it’s become comfortably familiar to me, the main result being that, on the eve of my departure, I now feel like I am leaving my home without planning to ever return.
Perhaps this is a sense that might be mitigated when I’ve finalized more of my travel plans, but as of now I have only one plane ticket to Istanbul to convince me that I’m not about to fall off the face of the Earth and into a black hole. My address and most of my possessions are passed on, and even my computer (the single possession which defines my living space for me) will be left behind (temporarily), as I drift across the landscape and cling tightly to my passport and credit card, probably with a lost look on my face.
It’s hardest when I think about my students, many of which have driven me to drink the week away on any Friday night, but some of which seem like incredible people to me; amazing me every day with their intelligence, humor, and even their maturity on occasion - even me, a curmudgeon who is so often disappointed with actual adults.
One of the great things about the modern age is that I never feel the need to say goodbye to anyone when we part. I’ll see them on the internet. Or in a year or two, maybe, in the case of most friends, since it’s so easy to stay in contact. The time doesn’t strike me as significant. Unless it’s forever, which it is for these kids. I could even come back in a year, and they’d be gone, or perhaps different people by then, since they change so fast at that age.
On my last day, one of my fourth graders, that I only taught for a few months (but one of the smartest kids I’ve had) cried quietly for most of class, and then afterwards hugged me and wouldn’t let go, and then she just started sobbing, while the other students crowded around and asked why she was crying, and I stood there feeling extremely guilty and unable to say anything.
A second grader made me a bracelet which I will wear when I travel. One second grade boy threw his note at me and ran away, which said inside: “I will never ever miss you,” but I think he meant the opposite judging by the rest of his note. Another girl made me a little book filled with drawings of basic English words, like Snack, Fruit, Street, Instrument, Kitchen, and Weather, as if she thought I might forget what they mean now that I’m not teaching. In the middle of the book, is her letter, part of which goes like this:
“If you go to U.S.A. I will miss you. and when you get on to airplane, It will be long, long time. If you are boring, please see my note. I feel very thank you to you. please don’t forget me. today is last day Friday I think Friday is Fry day :D I think you have to think you are very proud of your self.”
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At times, I don't know what has compelled me to live like this, but I just remembered my vacation last year, when I lost my shoes somewhere on a beach, and spent several days walking across Southern Thailand barefoot. I wonder what this time will be like. And I wonder if I will go back to Korea.
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