Sunny Perfection

Birds chirping. Bugs. Grass. Dirt. Trees. Roads with sky and earth as far as the eye can see. Beaches where you have space to breathe and people actually swimming. Avocados. Speaking English. Blue cloudless skies. Sun that radiates heat. People saying "Sorry" and "Excuse me". A cup of coffee for less than $2. Bike rides where your only company is sky, sun, grass, and cows. Showing my collar bone and not feeling self conscience. A huge real oven. Hiking without traffic jams. Clean air.

I'm not dead folks, I'm just zoned out in a world where I'm acutely aware of everything I lacked in Korea. You really can't appreciate everyday simplicities until they are stripped from your life for a year. After two glorious weeks in South Africa, I am safely situated outside by my dad's pool soaking up sunshine. My last two weeks in Korea were a blur of packing, routine, and closing out my life for a year. Thankfully it never felt like I was leaving and thankfully I have not missed anything about my life in Korea besides the friends that I made. It was a good run, full of wonderful people, learning, and traveling but I'm finished (or pinishee as my old students would say). Being back in the continent of Africa, temporary as it is, has made me Rachel again, and reminded me of what really completes me.

My time in South Africa was spent an hour north of Durban reunited with friends, hiking up a chain ladder on a sheer cliff to the second highest waterfall in the world (Tugela Falls), beach time, running where I have space to breathe, exploring Cape Town, surfing, hiking Table Mountain, crafting and catching up with old friends. Before I visited South Africa I knew I would love it: beautiful beaches, mountains, good weather, and the simple fact that it is in the continent of Africa. South Africa did not disappoint but it still surprised me. For the majority of the trip I did not feel that I was in the continent of Africa. My first trips to Africa were in rural poverty stricken areas where I was certainly a minority. Poor roads, lack of infrastructure, but beautiful and rich culture and geography made up the trips. In South Africa I could blend in as long as I didn't talk much and expose my American accent. I could have all the comforts of life in the US: hot showers, semi-familiar foods, good roads (well actually better roads than Michigan), safe drinking water, cute coffee shops and boutique stores, and the pleasure of effortlessly communicating in English. I felt as though one could live in South Africa without any knowledge of the other side of the country. Aside of the beautiful homes that filled many rich suburbs of Cape Town, and the fancy buildings of "downtown" Cape Town, most of the population actually lives in poverty. Whereas other African countries I visited the poverty and simplicity of life is right in your face, in South Africa it seems it would be easy to completely ignore the darker side of South Africa. I can see why tourists flock to South Africa to get their "Africa experience": it is actually a developed country, just one with a big gap between rich and poor.

Analysis aside, South Africa temporarily quenched my growing surfing addiction, and allowed me to enjoy vacation time before facing figuring out my "future". And for those that are asking: I will for sure be in northwestern US at the end of November for my big brother's wedding. So if you're anywhere near Seattle or Portland I would love to see you! In the meantime, I'm waiting waiting for Peace Corps, filling out lots of applications, mountain biking with my dad, baking, and trying to do some volunteer work. I owe many of you personal e-mails. I promise I haven't forgotten. I'm just trying to sort my life out (no excuse, I know). And in case anyone is confused about my exact location in the world, I am in Gaborone, Botswana living with my dearest father. Well, back to tanning and application duty! 

Marathon!

Marathon in Korea? Check. Sore legs? Check. Yellow dust filled lungs? Check.

March 20th was the Seoul International Marathon. Months of lackluster winter training and marathon day finally arrived, rainy and cold. Saturday was beautiful--warm and sunny. Sunday morning however, was chilly, rainy and had dangerously high levels of yellow dust blown over from China. For those of you who don't know about yellow dust google it. Because of polluted China every spring yellow dust blows over Korea and it's harmful to breathe. Also, the dust is apparently worse in the rain (found this out after I ran four hours in the rain). Rain, cold, and yellow dust aside I was running this dang marathon! I paid for it and I dragged my butt outside in arctic temperatures all winter to run.

In spite of its name, the Seoul "International" marathon was not very international. My friend Shea and I were surrounded by a sea of black heads at the start with the occasional blonde or brown head poking conspicuously out. Out of 24,000 runners, the Seoul marathon "boosted" 1,000 foreign runners. Amongst the Koreans Shea and I started the race and took the advice of starting off slow 100% to heart. Excuse all the runner jargon coming up. As a cross country runner I only started becoming more successful once I convinced myself to "risk" starting off fast, but the marathon start was heaven for my obsession with pacing myself. My first 5k was 30 minutes, I think a new record slow for me. But it paid off, I negative split my marathon (i.e. I ran faster the second half).

The marathon wove through Seoul, closing off some of the busiest streets in this buzzing city. Runners were encouraged by Seoul citizens cheers of "Fighting" (Konglish cheer). The enthusiastic Korean supporters kept my spirits high for the whole race. During the 25-35k of the race my legs went completely numb. No joke. I kept reaching down to feel if there were really still there. It was a strange but glorious sensation. With no feeling in my legs, I flew. No pain therefore I just picked up the pace. Then the numbness started wear off and I realized I was tired. No matter I could keep going. Then I reached the 37k and experienced the true meaning of "hitting the wall". Grateful for my ability to effortlessly switch between thinking in kilometers and miles, I started thinking about the remaining distance in miles instead of kilometers since the number was smaller. 5k is only 3.1 miles. I can do that. Side note: one marathon and I am now an expert at jogging through aid stations and chugging water or gatorade, and eating while running. It's actually quite easy.

For any runner, hardcore or recreational, doing a marathon is a necessary evil I think. The experience is taxing mentally, physically, and spiritually. Those last 5 kilometers felt like the other 37 combined. I prayed, I almost cried, and I just kept chugging along even though every step brought shooting pain up my Achilles and my knees ached. For some reason unknown to me a marathon is 26.2 miles or 42.195 kilometers and that 195 meters makes a  HUGE difference. I reached the 41k mark and cried tears of joy! Just one more kilometer to go! I can do this! The crowd of supporters increased and I knew I was closer to seeing a friend who had promised to come out and cheer for us at the finish. WAIT! WHAT? A sign loomed closer reading "1 km to go!" If I had had the energy I would have yelled in protest! You may think 195 meters is minuscule. That's less than half a lap around a track. But it's a BIG deal when you've just run 41 kilometers.

A few long minutes later I reached the Olympic Stadium and finished to the cheers of "Go waygookin!" (Go foreigner!). My friend Shea finished a bit later and we hobbled our way to our belongings (a looooooong process). Now I know what it's like to be old. Walking up and down stairs was a mission but it was a happy mission. The good old endorphins kicked in and Shea and I actually mentioned when we should do another marathon. Crazy!

Three goals complete: 1. Finish the marathon  2. Run under 4 hours (3:54:51) 3. Have an overall positive marathon experience. Naturally, as soon as we crossed the finish line the clouds disappeared and the sun shone. Go figure. Never mind, even with my yellow dust filled lungs, and stiff granny legs, I was on an endorphine high.

My friend Choua cheered us in the rain and brought us home baked sweet treats! She is awesome!

I'm trying to latch onto all the good things that happen each week and remember them so here are the events of last week that made me smile:

-Teaching grades 1 and 2. These little fireballs are so easy please. Singing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" is quite possibly the most exciting thing they've done in their lives ( or at least they act like that). Teaching the little ones allows me to be completely ridiculous and not be ridiculed for it (so basically I get to be myself 100% for an hour twice a week).

-Seeing my old 6th grade students around my part of town. They are so cute in their smart middle school uniforms and are always pleasantly shocked to see me. Their deep bows of respect and surprised "Teacher!" leaves me grinning!

-Not being able to speak Korean and not looking Korean. This means I can get up Saturday morning in the most random attire and not have a clue what people are saying about me. Today an ajumma commented on the fact that I was wearing sandals and shook her head disapprovingly. Yeah I know it's still cold out and it actually snowed two days ago, but I felt like wearing my Birkenstocks. I just smiled and let her continue thinking how crazy foreigners are. Gotta keep those stereotypes going right? ;) Only risk is that most of my students live near me and I often see them when I'm out and about. I also have to preserve my Rachel Teacher reputation.

-90s theme parties. Yes, I'm not a true 90s child but I still enjoy 90s themed parties. Dress up, good music and good friends.

-Visiting Gyeongju, a city in the south of Korea and breathing in semi fresh air, and seeing GRASS and very few buildings more than a few stories high! Glorious!!

LAST thing! Many people are asking when I'm coming "home" which I just take to mean what am I doing post Korea. Good question. Don't really know at the moment in spite of my OCD applying rampages and obsession with having my life planned out. Here are the possibilities:

1. Peace Corps. I am currently in the looong Peace Corps process. Waiting to get interviewed. If I do Peace Corps I HOPE I will start in October but it will all depend on how quick they give me an assignment. I don't know where I would be assigned but I'm hoping for a French speaking African country or somewhere in Latin America. Peace Corps is 27 months and after I will probably go straight and get my PhD.

2. Grad school in Germany. This option is looking less likely because I didn't get a scholarship that would have funded my master's study. BUT school in Germany is dirt cheap so I'm still applying to one program and keeping my options open.

3. Grad school at University of Cape Town in South Africa. This is the option my family is rooting for of course, but it's just one option. Classes would start February 2012 so I have to figure out what I would do in the meantime.

4. Find an interesting job somewhere. Currently looking out west: Colorado, California, Oregon, and Washington.

What I do plan on directly after Korea is heading straight to South Africa to visit a good friend and see the fam. Anyway, I wish I had a set plan but life never seems to be that simple for me. But I'm sure something will work out! :)

Peace Corps Essay

This is an essay I submitted for my Peace Corps application and I feel like it is a fitting summary of my life in Korea. 

The title of my identification card in Korea could not be more fitting: my existence here defined by an Alien Registration Card. Living in Korea, I am reminded daily that I am an “alien” here.  In a country with a very small percentage of foreigners and an ethnically-homogenous population, there is no way to escape the fact that as a white American, I don’t even need to open my mouth to stand out. From the young Korean men in the meat department of the grocery store: “Hello! Hello! You are very beautiful!”; to the elderly Korean women openly staring at my “unusual” features or petting my hair in the subway, I am beautiful simply due to my Caucasian features. Never before have my ordinary brown hair and brown eyes caused this much commotion. Besides the obvious physical differences between the average Korean and I, I also have to adjust to cultural differences that run deeper than skin, hair and eye color. A quick bow is a standard greeting; the depth of the bow increasing depending on the authority of the person being greeted. I must remove my shoes before entering any dwelling, or swap my outdoor shoes for “indoor” shoes. Living and teaching English in Korea, it would be easy to complain about the endless list of dissimilarities between Korean and western culture.  It would be equally as simple to surround myself with foreign friends and the comforts of western food and culture. However, neither of these tactics result in the rich knowledge I can gain by taking the time to understand and adapt to Korean culture.

             To the casual foreign observer, Koreans may seem rude. They push and shove their way through the subway even when the crowds don’t seem to merit this shoving.  It is acceptable to spit at any time or place, and direct analyses of a person’s physical appearance are also the norm.  But there is also much to be learned from the gregariousness and helpfulness of Korean culture. I once asked (or rather mimed to) a random stranger for directions and instead of simply pointing out the correct route after skimming over the address, the stranger marched to a service center, studied a map, and proceeded to lead me directly to my desired location. This entire transaction was conducted through mime and limited English and Korean exchanges. While hiking, Koreans will invite my friends and I to enjoy lunch with them, immediately rush over to help us set up our tents, and offer us flashlights as we hike down a mountain in the dark.  As a whole, Koreans are the most generous, honest, and hard working group of people I have encountered. While I still find myself somewhat disgusted at the frequent globs of spit that glisten on the sidewalk, I understand that spitting in public is simply a cultural difference, rather than an act of rudeness.  I was taught that spitting in public is rude, and was told to blow my nose – a practice that is considered rude in Korean culture. Neither practice is “right” or “wrong”; it is merely a difference in upbringing. Similarly, while the habit of removing one’s shoes inside is the norm in Korea, removing shoes is a practice that varies from household to household in the U.S. Without accepting and attempting to understand these cultural differences and actively seeking to integrate myself in Korean society, I would become a poor example of a foreigner. And in a country such as Korea, I may be the only foreigner a Korean will ever meet.

             Living and working abroad is an exchange. I will learn and adapt to a different way of life and, in turn, learn and develop as a human being. In exchange, those I encounter can gain insight into my culture and country and I have the opportunity to instill a positive impression of Americans and foreigners. Taking the time and care to show that I am interested in their culture, food, and language goes a long way in bridging cultural differences and forging lifelong friendships. Building face-to-face trust, confidence and understanding in a foreign country helps connect our world in a way that distance alliances and economics ties never will and, ultimately, is a much richer experience than simply encasing myself in a little bubble of familiar faces, foods, and customs.