unfolded and unfolding

Where do you see yourself in five years?

I had free periods at work this week, which was really rare for me. I did some work, but spent most of it in Future Land. I'm gradually forming a plan and getting really excited about it. I'm going to cross so much off the bucket list.

Long story short, I wanted to stay in Korea, I even decided that's what I'd do - but now I'm dreaming about traveling, enough with staying still. This week I woke up from a beautiful dream that I knew was too good to be true, and now I need something new to smile about. So I've been making a list of cities and snaking lines through a map of Europe.

I found out this week that my last day in Korea will be December 24th, barely enough time to be home for Christmas. I can't help but daydream about how easy it would be to reunite with England, take the chunnel to France, stroll around Western Europe until I go almost broke, end in Istanbul, and climb my way up to Saint Petersburg. Then from Moscow I can catch the Trans-Siberian, which is a week-long train that ends at the other side of Russia. From Vladivostok I can catch a ferry back to Korea, visit friends, then fly home. If I'm not ready to come home I can get a job in China, Japan, Thailand, Argentina, Peru, maybe Korea...

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. —Haruki Murakami

There's a new teacher at work. He's a great guy who instantly fits in well with the rest of our (dwindling) group. When I started my school had nine foreign teachers, now it's down to six. It's hard to believe how much things have changed since that first bunch of us. Pretty soon Adam and I will be the oldest staff at the school. So strange! Saying goodbye to good friends so often is painful and it's something about expat life I'd never be able to get used to. Alex has been gone for a couple weeks now. Things just aren't the same here without her calming advice and assured sense of reason. Luckily I got a chance to talk to Terrell tonight. He reminded me I still have my home friends who can do their job just as well from across the planet.

Kim invited me to go with her to Busan this weekend to hang out with her friends down there, so I used it as a chance to ask them questions and see more of the city. I'm glad I went. Seeing the city again helped me make up my mind. I met a girl who'd lived there for over a year. She loves the place and has a great job, but recommended I stay in the Seoul area if I come to Korea again. She told me there really wasn't much to do other than go to the beach. And the beach was mostly a crowded mess in summer, not relaxing like the American ones I'm used to. If I teach abroad again I'll try to make it in another country.

So this week I decided I was ready to leave as I caught myself flipping through my calendar, counting the number of teaching days I have left. It's 72 work days, and 101 days total, in case you were wondering. It's not that I hate teaching now, it's just that now I understand why teachers get such long vacations. I feel myself getting burnt out. Teaching is such a high-energy job if you want to feel any good at it. I need a really long break. I find myself needing to go to the jjimjilbang almost every day after work. Anyway, only like three months left. I can't believe how fast time flies.

busan

Last weekend I finally went to Busan. That's another major thing I can tick off the list. I had a feeling the work week after vacation would be rough, so I knew I wanted to go to Busan this weekend to kind of extend my vacation. Not to sound modest or anything, but that was an awesome idea. Ed was planning to meet his family there that weekend, so I tagged along with him. They were great people and it ended up being a really stress free weekend since I totally just mooched off their plans.

Busan is the second largest city in Korea. It's a beach town all the way on the other end of the country. Patrick and Alex loved it so much they decided to move there for their second year in Korea. Needless to say, another year with them would be amazing. I went to get a feel for the town I may call home for all of 2010. I completely understand why they fell in love with the place. For such a large city, it somehow manages to be quite lovely. I never felt as rushed and stressed as I sometimes can in Seoul. And even though I knew I was still in Korea (home sweet home), I felt like I was in a foreign place.

We went to Haeundae beach, which was pretty breathtaking at first glance. There were tiny, cragged rocks in the distance and houses built onto the side of small mountains. It was adorable. And I got the sense living near the water again would be good for my soul like it was when I lived near Emerald Isle.

We checked out the fish market, which was something I'd been looking forward to ever since I cracked open my first Korean guidebook and discovered that's what Korea is all about. The seafood was so fresh, I never knew mass death could look so beautiful. It was fascinating to be around all those indifferent vendors to whom chopping off fish heads and pulling out guts is the unremarkable everyday. We ate a fish snack and some deadly blowfish along the glistening waterfront. Half a dozen old Korean men walked by, stuck their nose in the take away box and nodded their approval. Brave foreigners! Anyway, the fish snack we got was the freshest seafood I've ever had (and I'm from Maryland!). The last big thing we did was a walk around the gorgeous Beomeosa Temple, which was a perfectly relaxing end to a relaxing weekend.

I need to vent a little. I've been feeling horrible lately about December. I keep hoping to wake up one day soon as the old Mandy who didn't think much past my next meal. If I just extend my contract I can go back to being that girl for at least a few more months. With that logic in mind, I'd kind of narrowed it down to either staying in Dongtan or moving to Busan. I was seriously hoping going to Busan would make my decision easier, but it didn't really help.

I think I fell in love with the place. The question is, do I want to move there knowing I'd eventually take its novelty for granted? It's like that quote from Lost in Translation, "Let's never come back here again, because it will never be as much fun." I'm also weary about finding a good enough school. So, despite how much I loved the city, on the train ride home I only felt defeated. I'm still no closer to making a decision... tune in next time.

the china vacation

The whole week prior to vacation is lost - my brain was off, I taught on auto-pilot. Didn't sleep after work on Friday, packed all night, left for the airport at 4:15 am. Kim, Theresa, and I caught a cab to the airport bus. (Kim went to the airport with clothes for a week and fingers crossed for an empty seat on a plane to Taipei. I only found out when I got home that she'd made it.) Anyway, there's nothing like 5 am rides to the airport before a much-needed vacation. I exchanged some Korean money for Chinese, having no idea yet how far my money would go. China is so cheap. The flight took only two hours. T and I had landed in Beijing!

T had a layover in the city for a few hours before she headed off to the other side of China to spend a week climbing in beautiful Yangshuo. Dad was nowhere to be found at the arrival gate, so T and I got coffee and waited. Eventually Dad walked past the window and it was like eight months had never happened. It was just Dad. But I'll never forget the smile on his face when he saw me. We had drinks with T, then took a cab to the hotel.

The hotel deserves its own entry. But I'll try not to brag about it too much. It was the most posh hotel I've ever seen, and likely the nicest I'll ever stay in. The bathroom was pure luxury and I spent many hours in its rain shower and unwinding in its tub. There was a giant, free breakfast buffet every morning with every food imaginable. And every night there was a free dinner and open bar on the top floor lounge. I spent some nights enjoying free beer or wine and cheese in the company of only the city skyline. (Will Smith and family were there, and one night we ate dinner across from his son, the new karate kid!) Ok, I know you're all turning green, so I'll move on.

That first day Dad and I enjoyed a really expensive German lunch. It was only like $60 (450 yuan), but that's a lot for Beijing, considering you can eat a regular meal for only about $2 (15 yuan). Dad was pretty excited to use the subway system, it was so cute. Usually when he travels he takes cabs everywhere. There were plenty of doormen willing to hail a cab and a concierge willing to write place names in Chinese, but there was a subway stop literally ten feet in front of the hotel. The subway was dirt cheap - 2 yuan per trip. That's 25 cents.

On Sunday Dad was feeling really sick. I wandered around our rich area of the city by myself, and treated myself to a massage. I don't know why but I always expected massages to be transformative life events. It was at least really pleasant and relaxing. Dim lighting. Lavender oil. (Soft music? I can't remember.) The hall leading to the massage room was covered with a couple inches of water, and floating candles and stepping stones led the way. This was my first massage ever. I didn't know what to do and the language barrier didn't help. There was an awkward moment when I was wearing a robe and standing with arms crossed modestly when I'm pretty sure I was supposed to be naked and laying face down on the table.

So, what's it like to be a tourist in Beijing? Of course I saw whatever seemed interesting in the travel guide. Some things aren't really worth mentioning. Went to Tiananmen Square with dad. There are some obligatory pictures of that. Alone, I checked out some museums that ended up being a waste of the time and energy it took to find them. Well, except for the fact that it gave me some surprising insight into the lack of priority the Chinese government has for its national museums. But then again, in China I had some of the most beautiful moments I'd ever hoped to experience.




Beijing is louder and more crowded than Seoul. It's also much more polluted, but oddly didn't smell as bad. On half the days I was there the smog was so thick I could barely see a block away. And China is basically Korea on steroids. The spaces are so much larger, it's exhausting. Chinese people are not quiet on public transportation like Korean people. Their language was so interesting to listen to. Mandarin is famous for being impossibly tonal. Korean is famous for having a very flat intonation. I could definitely hear the strange difference. Duh, China is crowded, but what I wasn't expecting was how few foreign faces I saw. Transferring subway lines during rush hour and literally being the only foreigner among a sea of Chinese faces was the coolest thing ever.

The Summer Palace is on the outskirts of the city. The day I took on the challenge of finding it is my favorite day of the vacation. I got so lost and so frustrated, but it was all worth it. I woke up early to give myself plenty of time to get there. I wanted to take the scenic route to see as much of the city as I could while still making my way. Took the above ground part of the subway and saw parts of Beijing completely dissimilar to the embassy part of town. Matched the Chinese characters of the guidebook to those on the bus signs, all completely lacking English, to figure out the right bus on the right side of the street. My proudest moment was waiting for the bus after only having to cross the street one time! The palace grounds were immense and impressive. Because I had no expectations and knew nothing about it beforehand, I was blown away. There was a lot of hiking and a lot of something that felt very much like time-travel. So, yea, it was my kind of place.

My friend Terrell went to China last year and came back with stories and hilarious pictures posing with complete strangers. He'd told me people had come up to him constantly as though he was a celebrity. I only remembered that after the same thing started to happen to me. It was awesome. Chinese people are wonderful overall, but I did meet some who saw me as a chance to exploit the rich foreigner. (On that note, I've never seen poverty like I saw in Beijing, and it made me feel extremely guilty to be staying in a five-star hotel.) In the Lonely Planet I read about the scams, and I'm glad I did because I knew how to avoid them. There was one guy who was really good and almost got me to trust him. But then I heard Oprah's voice, in her special about kidnapping, telling me not to go to the second location. My dad swears I was almost sold into sex slavery.

The Temple of Heaven was a gorgeous park with plenty of trees and shaded pathways. Traditional Chinese music was coming from somewhere - I suspect the rocks. It was a good place to get away from the crowds, possibly because you have to pay to enter. After days on end of beautiful scenery swarming with tour groups, I had finally found a spot both amazing and secluded. I wished I had brought my book to read, but I'd given up on reading in public spaces at this point. (The Imperial Garden of the Forbidden City had been crazy beautiful, and I'd wanted so badly to find a quiet spot there to curl up and read. In the end, I'd put my book away in defeat.)

The Great Wall with my dad was one of those rare moments in life when the overblown and completely unrealistic expectations you have match perfectly with what actually happens. It was absolutely stunning. There are no words. It will just go down as one of my life's happiest memories.

battered suitcases

Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life. -Jack Kerouac

Have you noticed my posts are often either about homesickness or travel? Well, here's another ode to travel. Whether or not they ever get around to putting it on paper, everyone has a bucket list, a list of things we want to do before we die. Of course I want to sky dive, bungee jump, ride a horse, write a book, fall in love, get married, blah blah blah, just like everyone else. This is a bucket list restricted to places I want to travel. As much as you can put things like this in order of preference, I tried to list the things I want to do most before the rest.

☐ Live in South America. Become fluent in Spanish.
☐ Bird watch in the Galapagos Islands.
☐ Visit Machu Pichu.
☐ Antarctica. I know, it's really expensive.
☐ Spend a summer working in Yellowstone.
☐ Be a tourist in all of the great cities of Europe.
☐ Do a road trip across America. See everything. Finally see California in the end.
☑ Stay in a temple. Experience life as a monk. (October 2009)
☐ Kiss the ground in Africa.
☐ See the pyramids.
☐ Go on a world tour of abandoned towns.
☑ Hike the Great Wall of China. (August 2009)
☐ Ride the Trans-Siberian.
☐ Swim in the Devil's Pool at Victoria Falls.
☑ Go on a long cruise. (January 2010)
☐ See that giant tree growing over the ruins of Angkor Wat.
☐ See the northern lights from a glass igloo hotel room.
☐ People watch in India.
☐ Travel to the deepest waters of the ocean, out in the middle of nowhere.
☐ Scuba dive in the Great Barrier Reef.

Writing this really helped me put my head in order. It includes all of my priorities for the next several years. When I was in America I couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how much I'd always believed it was what I wanted and was told it was what I should want, I didn't want the career, the house, the American Dream. It's finally sunk in that what I want is another dream, one that's just as complicated and frustrating to chase I'm sure, but at least it's one I can feel myself wanting to fight for. So, I figured out this is what I want to do with my life: experience the whole world. Essentially it's one easy word. Travel. I can keep my eye on that word, repeat it over and over like a mantra, and I feel everything will just fall into place.

hallelujah

It ain't possible to live unless you crossin' somebody's line.

Yay for post #42! These blogs lately have kind of a melancholy tone. I'm not the wide-eyed little sprite I was when I first arrived, but don't get me wrong, more often than not I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I haven't been this happy maybe ever.

So, let's see, what new? Oh, yea, I celebrated a birthday in a foreign country! Pretty cool, huh? I'm proud of where I am at this age. On my birthdays I always think about younger versions of myself and wonder if I/she would like the person I/she see/s. Stupid grammar, doesn't work with time travel.

Aside from my birthday, which was just a simple and classy (like school on Saturday) dinner and drinks, I haven't done much new stuff. Korea is just home now. I've been incredibly useless here lately - my apartment is a mess, no groceries, I seriously need to do laundry, and I have not planned one minute of my China trip other than buying a Beijing Lonely Planet and reading about 5 pages of it. My brain has been turned off. I must be on early vacation mode.

I guess a lot has been on my mind (not that I've been going out of my way to sort any of it out). Amanda's brain. Here goes:

Hey, Universe, what should I do? This week there's been lots of talk with friends back home. They're already trying to make plans for when I (am supposed to) come back to the states. I reckon it has pretty much always been set in stone that I'll be home for Christmas, or at least the new year. And I want to be there for those things. Bear hugs all around with all those people I love and miss. But even more than the bear hugs, I want to do something awesome. There's some need for an awesome adventure still lurking in my system. Where do I squeeze in the adventure? How do I make my priorities fit together when they're so opposite? Home versus the world.

Everywhere I go I hear a clock. I ride my bike through the park, tick. I eat dinner with my friends in the break room at work, tock. I don't want this to end. I'm so used to everything here. It's home. For once in my life I can understand why people stay in one place and at one job their whole lives. My job is a dream. My town is an unsung utopia. My apartment is beautiful, my friends even more so. I just turned 23, and I feel like I have it all, but that damn clock keeps ticking to take it all away. Four months seems desperately right around the corner.

To stay or not to stay, that is the question. I have a feeling I'll know whether or not to extend my contract after going to China, getting the homesickness out of my system after seeing Dad, and inevitably catching the travel bug again.

I keep hoping for some sign to present itself. I'm honestly hoping the answer will just come to me one day soon. It's the lazy way out. My heart sinks on rainy days that ruin my odds of spotting the heavenly light. This from a girl who never believed in signs. But I definitely do after the summer I've had.

This weekend is the last weekend I have with my best friend here, Alex. If you all remember, she's the one who first introduced me to the jjimjilbang and most everything else, and she's the one who yoga-ed and studied Korean with me every day after work. I wouldn't know and love this country as well as I do if it weren't for her. I have a feeling I'll be incredibly sad when she leaves. I'm already incredibly sad just thinking about it! But she has an amazing adventure planned, traveling the world for weeks and weeks with her awesome boyfriend Patrick who I'll miss a lot, too. Maybe I'll steal their adventure...

weather and noise

Sorry, recent events are top secret, but here's how I've been feeling lately:

"Where are you from?"

For such a harmless question, it's amazing how much this kills me. I try not to think of home, and then BAM all the memories come rushing back with those four simple words. As soon as they begin to stumble out of a stranger's mouth, I get so uneasy. My body tenses up and I need to catch my breath, then I brace myself and wait as long as possible to answer. If at all possible (like if I'm in a large group) I usually manage to avoid answering, but the memories still linger.

If it's just me, how can I explain why I'd rather not answer? So I answer.

"America."

I wince. And the nostalgia takes over. It hurts to say, "America." It's like saying the name of a long lost lover or a recently deceased friend. The shock of that question brings me unexpectedly back in time, or maybe it reminds me of reality. Whatever it does, it transports me to a strangely familiar/familiarly strange place. It's an unwelcome trip that I'm never prepared for.

One's home is like a delicious piece of pie you order in a restaurant on a country road one cozy evening - the best piece of pie you have ever eaten in your life - and can never find again. After you leave home, you may find yourself feeling homesick, even if you have a new home that has nicer wallpaper and a more efficient dishwasher than the home in which you grew up. -Lemony Snicket

Moral of the story: It's becoming more and more difficult to think about home without wishing for a billion little fishing lines to pull me through the Pacific Ocean, across the Mojave desert, and onto a Calvert County pier.

Dad wants to know what he can bring for me when we meet in Beijing. He's bringing me shoes, but what I really want is an hour in the size nine aisle of Payless. As much as I wanted to get away from some of these things seven months ago, I have to admit I really miss Payless, Chipotle, Borders, Target, Wawa, Panera Bread, CVS, ordering Chinese take-out, the fat-free option, indie movie theaters, driving, College Park, my grandparents' houses, summer barbeques, diversity, American architecture, proper English on signs, my real cell phone, my friends' voices, the nearness of everything I've ever known, Washington DC, the metro, football, baseball, searching for medium sizes while shopping instead the largest possible sizes, being an American girl, being able to understand the voices around me, the feeling of not standing out. Everything. I miss everything.

Homesickness is a horrible feeling of longing for something that's yours, that you can have, that's basically right there right now and always will be - only it's so impossibly not yours anymore, and you can't have it, and it's so very far away. But as much as I hate homesickness, I really love homesickness. I crave it when I'm home and taking everything above for granted. It's probably one of the major draws to traveling.

Yea, you're right, I am insane.

guilty

Ok, I am so sorry I broke my vow to write weekly. I'll try my best to keep it from now on. Even if I only sit in my apartment and stare at the wall, I'll think of something to share. There have been a few things worth writing about in the past month, I guess. Wow, it's really been a month. I feel incredibly guilty.

One event worth mentioning was the much-anticipated Mudfest, which was three weeks ago now. Basically all the foreigners scattered throughout the country hopped on trains and made their way to Boryeong, a fun little beach town on the west coast.

Mudfest is an annual thing, and it's exactly as the name implies: a mud party on the beach. It's super popular with foreigners, which makes sense as we've all come to Korea to work with kids and put off the real world for a year. Of course we can't resist the idea of playing in mud. The ever-amazing Joanne arranged our train tickets and hotel rooms. That was a hundred bucks, but everything on the beach - mud self-massage, mud slide, mud prison, colored mud, mud wrestling, mud games, etc - it was all free. Basically I painted myself with mud, slid down a mud slide, washed off in the ocean, and repeated. It was fun while it lasted, but ultimately we got rained out. It was too cold in only a bathing suit, so we took it indoors. We saw beautiful fireworks from the comfort of a dry, warm bar. Although my friends and I decided to take an earlier train home the next day, the silver lining is I met some awesome people who live in my area. I met one awesome person in particular, but that's all I'm saying for the mo ;)

China can't come soon enough. As far as Korea goes, lately I feel like I've run out of new experiences, new things to try. It's a terrible feeling. I made a list of everything I wanted to do, there are about two things left on that list, and with five months left, I can't shake the feeling that I should have stretched things out. I did try one new thing the other night. A new Korean dish I hadn't eaten before, and I got that old familiar feeling, the excitement of trying something new. It's like a drug, that feeling, and I have a hunch it's going to be what sways my decisions for the next few years. For instance, I've been thinking a lot about how exotic South America would be once I say goodbye to Korea...

The new teacher at my school is an amazing girl who spent two years in the Peace Corps in Mongolia. She has completely inspired me, but it also doesn't hurt that she insists it isn't as difficult as I thought to get into the program. So, as off the wall as it sounds, I see the Peace Corps in my future now. I don't know when I'll apply, but I know now I definitely will.

She came with me last weekend to see a concert in Incheon, which is about two hours away, but worth the time spent on public transport. Randomly, one of my favorite bands was in Korea. I was ecstatic to have the chance to see them here of all places. Concerts in Korea are lovely. No mosh pits? at a Deftones show? Sweet.

Children in Korea get one month off in the summer. It's this month. So my classes have been emptier this week, and will be for the next few weeks as kids go on vacation with their families. I'm glad my students get a break from their hectic schedules. The thing I'm not happy about is that they still go to their private school. Just have to keep telling myself I have a whole nine days off only three weeks from now. God, I need a vacation. Working full-time is rough. How do people do it for years on end?

Tomorrow is Ryan's birthday (and also Harry Potter's and J.K. Rowling's). Happy birthday, Ryan! I love you this much. My brother is 24 years old. That by itself makes me feel so damn grown-up, but it's especially scary since it means I'll be 23 soon. I know most of you think 23 is still young, but to me it's terrifying to think I'm gliding into my mid-twenties with no real prospects. Gasp. I feel a quarter life crisis coming on.