It's Funny

Funny, but in that ironic sense of way. A few days ago, I was wondering if I should post something before the end of the month, to give March one more post, but thought against it. I don't like posting to just post.

I prefer to have something of sustenance go up. Something that will give me a good insight to what I was thinking about, without having to flex my brain very hard later down the road, wondering what was going through my mind.

Ah, what can I say, I'm lazy and I embrace it. 

Now, back to the irony of it all. 

Yesterday, someone mentioned that they've been meaning to write again, and really wanted to, but just...[insert half arm flail here...you know the one]. 

My response had been not to stress it. A writing piece will come when it comes. 

Not even 24 hours later, and here I am.

Last night, I was faced with a small anxiety attack that made me question why I wanted to stay in Korea for a second year. Holy hell that had been uncomfortable. I felt clamy and discomfort in my own skin. In my own bed. The moment you're uncomfortable in your own bed, is the moment you know you're not doing well.

It was my bed.

The one place I don't have to be anyone. I can just be a blob of exhaustion and still sass people from the tips of my fingers. The bed is a sacred place. 

And yet because of one 아저시, I was in an unsettled place, because of him and my trash. 

It sounds silly, doesn't it?

An anxiety attack because of the fucking trash.

*sigh*

I don't want to invalidate my experience, by saying it shouldn't have happened. That I am embarrassed by such a tumble of emotions to the point that I will discredit my experience. 

It's so hard though!

I'm internally struggling to find a balance between acknowledging what happened and avoiding it. 

Which is probably why I am writing this post now. 

I am acknowledging that my thoughts spiraled downward so fast any Korean would be proud at the speed. I went from, 'taking my trash out!' to 'did that man just grunt at me?' to 'wait, my trash DOESN'T go here? Well, where the hell does it go?' to 'there's no place for my trash, my life is going to turn into a trash dump...literally' to 'fuck, why is this guy such a dick?'. 

And as I was climbing into bed, to fall asleep for the night, bam! 

Anxiety showed it's ugly head.

The only way, I was able to settle down enough to fall into a restless sleep was by giving myself a game plan for the next day. I would go into work, speak to my co-teacher about the trash, and have her call the building owner. I was going to get my confirmation of where to put the stupid trash, so my life won't physically reflect what it sometimes feels like. 

And guess what I found this morning on my way into work.

Exactly.

I went through all of that last night, for basically nothing. 

Oh wait. I think I'm getting ahead of myself a little. 

Remember the 아저시? For those who don't speak Korean, it translates to a man who is between the age of 40 to 60. He was out smoking his cigarette and saw me drop off the trash at the 'not your spot'. I barely looked at him, mostly focused on my audio-book, when I heard random grunting noises over the narrator. I turned around and he starts talking. 

"Do you live in that building? Yes? Then, you can't put your trash here. Your trash site doesn't exist? It's there. Just look around for it. This place is for this building. Not yours. You understand? Good. This is not for your building."

That's pretty much the gist of what he said, as he points around with his cigarette. It was a surreal experience, that I was able to understand as much as I did, not freak out, and was even able to negotiate that I could leave my trash there for the evening.

I, personally, did not understand why it really mattered, it's all going to the same place on the same garbage truck...but anyways, yeah. Negotiating trash location without freaking out, I counted it as a win.

The freaking out was saved for later.

Now, here I am, sitting at work, well aware of where my trash goes, wondering why I wasn't told about the trash spot to begin with? 

Oh wait. I'm a foreigner. 

#SaveOurToya

Spring - 봄

Small confession time.

I submitted a small piece to Infusion, Fulbright Korea's magazine. Per it's about section, "[t]he magazine aims to capture the diversity of the Fulbright Korea experience by publishing work from Fulbright Korea senior scholars, junior researchers, English teaching assistants, and program alumni".

Though I aimed to see my name in print, I'd been offered the opportunity for a web publication. Which is still a fantastic opportunity!

My editor and I worked on my piece I titled "Spring - 봄" for a little over a week. Between our teaching schedules, life schedules, and sleep schedules, we were able to create the piece below. I want to give a special thanks to Kyle, for seeing my piece's potential and helping it bloom.

Unfortunately, it wasn't published online. But that's okay. You win some, you lose some.

However, fortunately for me, I have an online platform that allows me to publish whatever I want.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Springtime is for new beginnings and cleaning up the hot messes you’ve carried through your life the previous year.

As 2019 began to trickle in, I noticed bits of 2018 overflowing into the new year.

And the thing is?

I felt every moment of it.

I'm pretty sure most, if not all of us can summarize 2018 exhaustively as, 'What the what?'

Not to worry, I'm not about to relive 2018. I'm talking about new beginnings, remember? While others are busy spring cleaning and getting ready for the next year, Fulbrighters in Korea are focused on whether they choose to renew or not.

For some of us, the decision is easy, while others struggle. Like the onslaught of pollen, so many thoughts fly around clogging up the path towards decisions we wish to make, and really...we just want to breath again. At the beginning of our grant years, we all came with goals in mind.

As each day gets carried off by the falling leaves, frozen fingers are challenged to keep up with the changing seasons and its new demands. Through our grant year we are tested and we change our minds about our goals, possibly multiple times.

I've spoken with various Fulbrighters in Korea. Some of them have similar stories, whereas others are definitely having a much different experience during this 'should I stay or should I go' period. Just like the beginnings of spring, it's a hot/cold situation. Winter still clinging despite everyone hoping to see flowers bloom and not wear long padding anymore.

A Fulbrighter explained it as a game of Uno when someone plays the Reverse Uno card. In one breath, the decision is going down a steady path, and the next...it's going the complete opposite. It's these moments that we weather out. We talk to our fellow Fulbrighters, we continue having our experiences in Korea without pause. A few of us are at ease during this time, and they are the lucky ones. They get to play an Uno game without many plot twists. The other game that is being played has a multitude of unexpected twists and turns, and there isn't an end in sight until all the cards have been played.

And a decision has been made.

If a Fulbrighter isn't jumping between hot/cold and Reverse cards, then did they really move abroad? Did they truly challenge themselves and commit to being cultural ambassadors?

A Fulbrighter's first year is a year of realizations and new experiences. From humid summer days at Orientation to cool evenings during our first months of teaching to the freezing winds bringing snow, we start to learn more about a country so different from our own.

A country that thrives despite the weather or hardships around them. Just like a Fulbrighter.

As snow melts and the cherry blossoms touch the sky, we begin to make our final decisions. The decision that will outline the next three hundred and sixty-five days of our revolving lives.

Do we stay for a second year, and deepen our bond with Korea?

Do we stay for a third?

Do we switch programs, because we just completed our third year and aren't ready to leave yet?

Do we stay calm, because the decision was never really a problem to begin with?

Or do we go home, and see what happens next?

So, perhaps Spring time isn't just about new beginnings, but for the hope of something more.

And maybe that’s something worth carrying into the Summer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There you have it. My first adventure into being published (not on my blog). Tell me your thoughts. What did you think about Spring? Could you move across the world for a year? What would you do in Korea if you could visit? Would you stay for a second or third year? Don't be shy!

And as always,

#SaveOurToya