I have this image in my head where I'm an old granny in a nursing home, and when people come to visit me and see me dribbling nonsense and getting the shakes those who know me will say, "It's all right, she's just having her Korean flashbacks."
I've been in this beautiful country for a little more than a year now, teaching English at a public school by day and making optimal use of the speedy internet by night. What a glitzy life I lead. The most challenging parts are also the most exciting when you finally master them, like eating with chopsticks, remembering to take your shoes off when you enter buildings, and as a girl being able to use the oriental lavatories while maintaining my dignity. It feels silly but I gave myself a big pat on the back the first time I successfully cleaned a drumstick while holding it perfectly stable between my chopsticks. Nothing will get between me and my chicken, especially not the crunchy fatty bits! There are still some mishaps in the ladies room from time to time, (oh the euphemisms!) but overall the cultural differences have been noted, studied, and bridged.
Well, perhaps not bridged in its entirety. There are still some things I can live without, like bizarre demands under the guise of cultural relativity. "In our culture we do this, so..." I find sometimes it becomes a convenient excuse used by locals and foreigners alike. "I can't make friends with that person, we're not from the same culture." Or, "we don't get along, must be the cultural difference." Sometimes people just don't get along, or should try harder, how is this different from interacting in our own cultures? Speaking the same language doesn't better enable communication, and not speaking the same language isn't an excuse to stop trying. I have recently discovered I can be funny and sarcastic in my limited Korean, and I had my co-workers in stitches when I mimic their words as I hear them spoken in the classrooms and corridors. Now they think I'm a genius, when really I'm just a parrot with great mimicking abilities.
In every culture we find ourselves we want to feel like we belong. It's easier to feel like an alien when you are one, and lying low and trying to blend in is an impossible feat. How do you camouflage a chubby blonde girl who likes to wear bright colours that pop? The hardest part of living in Korea has been coming to terms with my limitations and faults. I thought by going abroad for two years I could postpone growing up, but it's actually made me grow up faster. I have to face everyday that I'm not perfect, that I'm quite a dull person with a limited imagination, and that maybe I won't shine as bright as I thought I would when I was 16. I have to take responsibilities for my thoughts and actions, I have to be aware of the people around me. But I also find out every day that I'm strong, that I do have convictions, and that I'm quite fine with not being Drew Barrymore. The other day a kid told me I'm not pretty. I told him that's fine, but can I see his homework? And I didn't even flinch.
