The main excuse

WAH! It has been so long my own blog doesn't recognize me! I finally clicked on the tiny tab that is my blog in hopes of seeing a new one magically appear. The page came up and all I beheld was 'August in a Flash' in rosey pink lettering, reminding me what a lazy, weekend scrounging hermit I've been. I wished it had written itself in long verses of thought, etching all the details I've already forgotten via the magic telepathic pen connected to my computer. It was quite depressing to find that this did not happen, obviously. But, like I said about August, this is a good thing. This means I'm busy and that enjoying myself in Korea, finally.

So what's new~ in short because that's all I seem to accomplish lately, short bursts of pent up energy escaping in weekend excursions with my boyfriend. Which reminds me... biggest change numero uno, and WHY I've been such a crap blogger:

1. The Boyfriend.

Yes, he exists. My parents have even SEEN him and he is flesh and blood. Well, they actually can't back that, he was in 'bites' on their screen in Wisconsin. But I can assure you, he is real. And for those who know me (and you only need to read a bit of what I say to figure it out), you know I'm the independent, "I don't need no boyfriend because I'm a strong, kick-ass girl" type. And even when I did have one, it still wasn't the A-typical relationship. It was high school, and long long ago for me. Now its five or six years later, and I have had no one to write home about. (I'm not complaining here, this was all pretty much by choice. Pretty much... I guess you could say there wasn't anyone who sparked my interest more than a foreign country, language or culture.) Now that someone has sparked my interest and is continuing to do so every time we meet up, I can actually and in print say that I do indeed have a boyfriend. Moreover, and please close your mouth mom, I can now understand just how much time one takes up. I think September was equivalent to a black hole, or some strange string theory loop where time becomes dual then exponentially dual and in that surreptitiously sucks all personal accomplishment (including body, mind and soul upkeep) into another dimension with less than an equivalent hour to 60 min ratio. It's only been two months, but this is what I take from having a 'companion' in full mathematical formula:

Boyfriend = Free time/External dimension ratio (1hr = 30 min) + External dimension fun = Happiness - Personal upkeep

Thus, September in total was a grand time though short, and throughout the whole thing I looked progressively worse for wear. Boyfriend, don't be offended, I really do like you. I'm just good at math.

2. Excursions with the monkey (aka the BF)

*Monkey is the nickname his classroom children came up with for him. (Last name is Mackie- confused with 'monkey, you get monkey mackie monkey mackie in chirping five year old voices.)

So, monkey and I sang away September in good fashion. The first couple weekends we hung out with friends, but the killer and most ambitious singing was done on a plane, then in a train, then along the streets and swerving alleys of beloved Hong Kong! We wandered and splurged and yelled and stomped and hiked and laughed and drank and got lost in circles upon octagons and triangles. We tramped all around Hong Kong for seven days and six nights, and you know what? We both lived. Er, more so, he lived. That was the only life in question I believe. Anyways, the reason we got this lovely vacation was in part because we coerced a plan in August and bought tickets before our schools could say "aniyo", or "no", but mostly because it was the Korean version of our Thanksgiving here, ergo no school and lots of free time! We left on a Sunday and returned the next Saturday, exhausted but satisfied with our venture. We had gotten to take a glass-bottomed cable car to the top of a wonderfully enchanted mountain topped with a golden Buddha and matching temple, then shopped our hands and feet into calluses at the bounty of markets in foods, clothes and things I'm still uncertain of, and then got to spend a glorious day on a remote hippie island covered with lush trees and even 'lusher' island folk, one of which was a lovely young girl that made her own beautifully eccentric jewelry out of spoons, old pictures, glitter and feathers, and who thereafter had dinner and drinks with us at a local restaurant ~ seafood was the menu but I got a dish filled with oilfied mushrooms and leaves! Delicious, I say, though maybe a bit too oily for the everyday. :S

Anyways, that was Hong Kong- strange food, people, happenings and ventures. Quite fitting for the gal only interested in the etrange!

3. Everything else

When not with the monkey, who by the way I am still talking to, I am off trying to run for the excessive amount of chocolate I eat now, to read for the lack of things I have to talk about that aren't him, and then to write for the expression of spirit I can exert on something that will last longer than a paratactic conversation with the BF, aka how we chat constantly but never in an A to B direction. It's more like A to z to fish to Alexander Hamilton to Q to Tigers to B. Somehow we get there, but its never by any means we can remember. The everything else for me is thus me trying to remedy our chaos with something that resembles a normal linear life.

Oh, also, I'm in Korea. Did you know that? I sometimes forget. Sometimes- but not today*. (See story below) I'm speaking more and more Korean and then forget that I once upon a time didn't know where the damn country was. I'm also finding myself in an increase of awkward situations that once would have shook me to tears, but now only phase me as hilariously ironic, interesting and perpetually confusing. *Like today I ended up having sugared up instant coffee with not just one ajashi neighbor, but TWO. The first is a guy owns a moped store and I know him and his wife(?) who also owns/works at the 7/11 store I often stop at. She's sweet and has a child who is my student (though I'm still not sure which student!) and thus offers me coffee all the time. I was in a peppy, skip-walking mood today so agreed to his hospitality. Now I think I've accidently set a date to drink with their family next Friday?

The second was my neighbor who owns a bike repair shop just opposite my apartment building. He often has customers, so I assumed he's trustworthy and good at what he does. My bike popped its front tire about two months ago and today I finally- FINALLY- decide to do something about it. Turns out the man is a traumatized Korean War vet who I'm certain has business because the neighborhood knows he hasn't changed his prices in fifty years on top of the fact that he's entertaining as hell. I brought my bike over in an excessively proud fashion because heck, I'm a girl who is kicking ass at her errands, only to shrink to a regretful and terribly confused customer of the crazy ajashi I'm now sipping more Maxim instant coffee with. (The stuff is battery acid.) I had to give him my number and name so he could call me (in Korean because I'll understand? - OK, I'll figure out who he is, but I already know the conversation: "Yobosaeyo? Nae. Jajeongo igoeso. Jigeum orraeso! jaksasdkgj ajls;dglhg sgh;las;flkjasg ghlasdlf;kj g jls;jks g j gl;kj ahasdflkjals;kdfj;lkj asghlka;sjf ;laksjg ; ah;lkjas df;lkj g;lkja asd Nae? laksjdf;lkjg;laksjf;lkajpoeiuqwelknpobijslkdmfpowiejfksalnf Nae nae nae, nae nae nae." And I'll reply "OK. OK. OK. OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK....NAE" And so will be our interchange. I'm looking forward to it. Should be tomorrow about 6?

If you can't tell, I'm quite situated in Korea. If I had done this a year ago, I would have locked myself in my apartment and called a friend in hopes of the million dollar answer. But now I just keep going. I guess maybe the biggest change is myself and how I react to the world now- heck, I REACT. That's just the difference. I'm frightened but not frightened of failure or confusion or awkwardness or whatever else life throws at me because I know I can handle it, react to it, deal. Though it is still me and its still a dealing in a roundabout, "I'm a hermit but I love the world" way.

August in a flash

I think it's a good thing that a month has gone by without a blog. This means I have something that resembles a life, with appointments, obligations, fun, friends, experiences and so on. Or like my mom says, no news is good news! And in this case it is most definitely so. August went by like my senior year of high school, no sooner had it started than it ended, and I was left wondering where the time went. Moreover wondering what the hell happened. Thank God for pictures is all I can say! Thus, here's a glimpse for you and for me of just what my summer was all about.

First up was Jeju - the Hawaii of South Korea. It's an island just south of the mainland and is accessible via ferry or plane. I decided to fly as I would have to travel 6 hours just to get to a pier that would have an eleven hour overnight boat ride for me. I like my vacations to be a little difficult and therefore interesting, but not that interesting. I opted for the hour and a half plane ride that would take me to my exact destination. (I must be getting old to want something so easy!)

I got to Jeju City, Jeju Island on a Sunday afternoon. I had no hotel or tour booked, nor a plan in the world. (Outside a day at the beach that is.) So I spent an hour at the airport just trying to find a hostel and the means of transportation to get to one. I ended up taking a taxi to a place that would end up being my savior for my entire stay. It was called YEHA Guesthouse, a hostel type of boarding. I switched rooms probably three times during my four nights there, but I didn't mind. I had a place to sleep and keep my junk while I roamed the wilderness (faux wilderness?) of the island. My first day was an adventure walk around Jeju City. I found the wharf and downtown area with a bonus Indian restaurant (a place I returned twice more throughout the week!) Then also discovered a derelict water park, a roller rink, the origin of the first kings/princes of Jeju, and an outdoor Korean music festival. And this was just the first day...

Throughout the week I met new and different people. I went out with a wonderful girl I met on my tour a couple of nights. We tried our hand at a Korean nightclub and quickly realized we were not their usual clientele! Then went to the beach the next day and soaked up some rays with our books. When she left I bought a tent and spent three nights camping. The first of which was at the base of Mount Hallasan, the highest mountain in South Korea. Well, actually I pitched the tent at nine in the morning, then hiked the three hours to the peak for lunch. Met a fruit of a person at the top, who then proceeded to follow me down the mountain (though he had taken a completely different trail and was informed by me that there was no bus at the base of this trail like the one he started at... I'm now quite certain I have a honing device in me for this type of person. I'll be having surgery next month to extract it!) Anyways, back to my lovely solitude, I camped at the base that night in full Korean style. Meaning I was surrounded by Korean families and thus not really in solitude but enough so that I could relax and read my novel.

Next two days were a bliss of wandering the island and camping on the beach. I even extended my vacation one day to get some more rays, got burned in that good, almost won't peel way, finished my novel, found a chocolate museum, sound museum, botanical garden and mystical Buddhist temple. Even got a movie night on the beach due to some freak luck I possess and will not extract like the honing device. In all, it was a brilliant vacation! Island life had gotten to me and I did not want to return to the mainland. But not wanting to push my luck, I receded to my post, texted my teacher to let her know I had survived and enjoyed my "home training" for the rest of the second week.

The two weeks after that were camp weeks. This means I worked for four hours straight in the morning, had an hour of awkward lunch with the few Korean teachers who were working for the other summer camps (math, science, computer, etc.), slept for an hour or two on the cold concrete floor of my teacher's room cell, made a worksheet for the next day then went home and recharged my batteries for the next grueling fight. I probably make it sound worse than it is, because in reality it wasn't that bad and I do believe the kids had fun, which IS all that matters. Yet, to put the difficulty of teaching for four straight hours with minimal breaks (really no breaks for the teacher!): imagine you're given fifteen monkeys that are used to having the same routine everyday for the past four months. You are not supposed to follow their routine but instead have to do your best to change it, reinvent it, make it interesting for the monkeys so they don't go crazy and take over the classroom. Course, it also has to be educational and somewhat challenging for them because they are smart monkeys even if they are monkeys. So you prepare and prepare material you think worthy of inspiring and taming them only to find they react to little outside candy and K-pop (Korean version of Backstreet Boys). Your monkey interpreter (aka co-teacher) is also on vacation in their head and sees this as your show and their break. You now have to control the monkeys with entertainment at their level, teach them, get them to want to participate in things that are educational, then make sure they don't ruin the classroom. This was every morning for two weeks. I had to meet my parents at the airport on the last day of camp, and I can easily say I've never wanted to do anything more. Camp was grand fun, but there's a reason it's only two weeks and not the whole vacation. Jenna Teacher would be sent to the asylum!

Like I said, the parents saved me. They came to visit for just one week but I think it was the perfect amount of time. We got to hang out and enjoy ourselves, my parents got to see me and a bit of Korea, and I got to play tour guide for about as long as I can really stand. (I'm not a leader, I'm a doer. I believe my parents found this out! I think they'll have to buy new shoes now after this trip!) We walked and we walked and we walked and walked. The transportation here is cheap, but in order to really see anything you've got to just walk and take in your surroundings. I'd guess we put in about five to seven miles per day at the beginning. It was a slow saunter, but enough for us to pass out each night in exhaustion. Well, exhaustion from walking but also exhaustion from heat and humidity. It was in the nineties for the first three days they were here. The humidity feeling like it was at a hundred percent. Probably the only time of the year it will get this bad, and my parents came in the thick of it. We took naps and enjoyed the Korean dessert, Potbingsu, a kind of shaved ice topped with fruit, syrup and ice cream. I have many more stories of our journeys around the blocks of Korea, but I think I'll save them for their own posts. Just know that I did not control the weather, but it certainly wanted to test my parents! Then again, I did do the walking and they the following. Sorry Mom and Dad! Just hope your soles are still in tact!

Well, what do you know? I finally get to typing all of this and this is not letting me upload photos! I'll try tomorrow at school, sorry! I promise I didn't make you read of all this for nothing!

First Day Essay

My head teacher had me write an essay for a GEPIK book to be made this next year about teaching in Korea. I, naturally, forgot and ended up writing it the same day she needed it. It was supposed to be two pages and of teaching in Korea. Not sure I fulfilled the requirements, as it's three pages and about my very first impression of Korea. From leaving America and the excitement and anxiety of traveling to a foreign country for the purpose of living there. I went a little overboard, but I think I didn't realize how much I had to say about what I've done and am still doing here. I've definitely made it a lifestyle, and am only now really rocking it. It's only taken a year. Anyways, traveling back in time now to 2009...

A year ago, in March of 2009, I left a frigid winter in Wisconsin for a job in Korea. I had just graduated in that December, in one of the coldest and worst job markets since the Great Depression, and thus had found a teaching job abroad as my one and only option.

Waiting for the all the paperwork to be filed and re-filed was the worst part of it all. Multiple tanks of gas were paid with my parent’s credit card, my nights were spent on friends couches, and meals were sparse, usually Ramen. It seemed the only change since I’d graduated was my lack of classes. Ergo, I very, very much yearned for a greater change. Well, actually I just yearned for a purpose. Without classes to distract me, my looming future grew daunting and the only out was Korea.

I came over with the typical traveling youth gear, a huge hiking pack, a rolling suitcase, another small backpack on my front and a huge hippie purse filled with my airplane ride essentials. Eighteen hours total of traveling added to my two day lay-over for my missed flight, I was understandably exhausted, then nervous, then relieved when I saw a smiling Korean face hold up a welcome card with my name on it. I hobbled over to her, greeted her with all of my energy and then realized I’d just met the first person who would influence my life here in Korea. Her name was Jiny, and she was just as anxious and nervous as me to meet someone new and entirely different from anyone else she knows.

Her English was good but quiet and short. I had heard from a friend that most Koreans were intimidated to speak with native speakers, thus I understood her a little and was a bit relieved to be able to rest my brain for the hour bus ride to Suwon. We arrived near a towering Homeplus super store, a movie theater and shopping strip. I had to laugh at how similar the store fronts looked with any store in America. Home is where the shopping is perhaps? We retrieved my luggage, and my new co-teacher assisted me with my bags on the uneven pavement. We needed to walk a block to meet the head teacher with her car.

Sweating and evermore exhausted I met the second most influential person in my stay here in Korea. Her name was Mrs. Lee and she was exactly what I had imagined as a Korean teacher. Shorter, slim, smiley, she radiated goodwill from every centimeter of her being. She drove Jiny and I to what would be my home for the next two years, a small one bedroom apartment located at the top floor of a new seven story complex. I found the bed the best and most welcoming of all of it.

The next day Jiny picked me up in her Kia SUV and drove me the five blocks to a school I never would have found on my own. Entering the school yard I felt something like a déjà vu, like there was a place and purpose that had waited for me to come. I watched the little black heads that peppered the playground and outdoor stairwell, and felt a twinge of nervousness for my first day.

We entered the school and the first thing I was told was to buy indoor shoes. There were cabinets in every entranceway for the superman like change from indoor being to outdoor being and vice versa, and I was expected to participate in this transformation as soon as possible. For today though, I could keep my outdoor being and suffer no consequences.

Next we met the Principle and Vice Principle. I entered the main office unknowing of who was in there, but immediately felt anxiety when I realized this was my first impression on the Vice Principle, the Superintendent, and fellow teachers. It felt like the world stopped as I walked in. All of the black colored eyes focused on the unique, foreign creature with big, hazel eyes. The hazel eyes stared back and tried to take in the overwhelming feeling of being so very new and so very different. They managed for a second, but diverted, overcome with nerves, to the ground and other inanimate items. Hellos were made, and warmth was felt, but still I was glad to be brought to the English lab and shown my own private desk and computer.

The last and most impressing people of my stay here in Korea were introduced to me that first day as well, and the second day, and the third day, and fourth and fifth. The children I would teach for the next year and then some, gawked and stared and giggled and chimed shy (and sometimes not shy) Hellos to the new foreign teacher observing their classes from the back of the room. Walking down the hall I generated a ruckus I can only imagine as equal to that of a movie star. Some students feeling emboldened by my presence and their friends’ rang out a fond “Hello!”, while other younger students felt a bit more shy and just whispered amongst themselves, “Oh! Waygookin!” (Foreigner!) (That term and “Annyeonghaseyo” were my first two Korean phrases actually and have served me very well since.)

Thus, my first week, month, semester was simply me meeting and getting to know my students, fellow teachers and school. I learned how to teach in a constructive manner, how to control my language and use simple terms to convey my meaning, how to have fun in the classroom but to also keep it controlled and productive, and of course how to live and work with Korea. I would like to write about every little aspect of my stay here, but I feel it would easily become a book. Instead, let me just say that my time here has been one of the best of my life, and that I have been extremely lucky with my placement. I have a co-teacher that I can talk with and who listens to my suggestions, not to mention also helps me with every little problem I have, whether it be a cell phone bill, broken heater or assisting me with planning my weekend. Then there are the students and their unconditional love and happiness that radiate, much like Mrs. Lee’s charm, from every centimeter of their being. They are so happy to be with me, to learn English and to try to use it with me that I cannot help but feel a sense of purpose and happiness in that purpose everyday.

I should say that during my stay here I have heard of less fortunate stories, of people who have felt stuck and motionless in their job here, with co-teachers much less open and understanding than mine. I think that certainly, there is a form of bad luck in that and therefore a sense of uncontrollable suffocation, but I also think that a lot of what makes your stay here is you. If you have a positive outlook on things and people and life, then your stay here, however daunting and anxiety filled, can also be one of your fondest memories. Like the pastor who doubles as a crossing guard in the mornings said to me with all truth and hope, “Enjoy your stay here in Korea.” Something enlightening in that statement for me was the idea of choice. Since then, even on the toughest, loneliest days, I remember that this is so much more than what I could be doing, and that I can either enjoy it or suffer it, but either way it is my choice. I have chosen the former and feel that with every smiling child, every screaming English song, every speed or guessing game and with every conversation with Korean and foreigner. My best advice for the new GEPIK teacher is to be open, be understanding and to be excited about the year ahead of you because it will be a good year if you want it to be. Again, it’s all up to you and how you chose to enjoy it.

Enjoyment

In my last entry I was just a tad irritated by Korea. What can I say? It happens when you're an expat. Some days just seem longer than necessary and when one doesn't have many outlets, it tends to come out full force in the few one does have. Anyways, I'm writing here to say I'm much better now. Things are starting to fall into place and/or I no longer feel I'm falling apart every moment I step out my front door. One reason for this is it's finally summer, and warm and the daylight lasts until 8 or 9 and I can relax outside (finally!) in the cooler summer evenings, skipping the stifling June afternoons. I can also run at night and hide amongst the shadows of Lego-like apartments, dodging to and fro like Batman or an alley cat on the prowl. Then in the humid early evenings when the sun is still out and draining, I can read under a tree or in an air-conditioned coffee shop and fall into universes alien to existence here.

I've also begun learning French, a language I believed impossible five years ago, but now find conquerable in contrast to my new fortress, the Korean language. I have found a French tutor and am finally carrying on conversations I never knew I had in me. Things like film noir, or Albert Camus, or Nicolas Sarkozy have never peppered my thoughts as they do now. It's not that I'm becoming an expert or anything, I mean I can't speak at length or in depth. But, I find myself using them in comparisons or questions, and then am shocked at my own knowledge. It's then, when I see the headway I'm making, that I want to learn more. Seeing progress is helpful in itself; but it is evermore so a therapy for the restless expat.

Lastly, I've begun volunteering at an orphanage near my apartment. It's small and I only tutor two students every week for one hour. But I enjoy it, and feel that perhaps I just may be doing the same for them as French is doing for me. Opening doors in my mind that I thought were securely welded shut. Every week I have a new game, something simple but fresh so that when they try to recall words we learn they can correlate the word with the game of that week. Er, that's what I'm hoping for. Either way, we have fun and enjoy getting to know each other. Both the students are sixteen, and awkward insecurity is no friend of theirs at the moment. The first week they were scared to laugh at my jokes and goofy strategies, the second week they warmed a bit when I brought the games I'd promised along with candy (the trick of every ESL teacher!), and finally this last week they appeared to show some sadness when I told them I wouldn't be able to come this next week due to orientation (a three day get-away where I should learn to be a better teacher, but will most likely just meet people, hang out and play beer pong... not my choice, rather an obligation of my contract ironically.)

Anyways, I'm going to be arrogant and think I'll be missed this week as I'll miss them. They're bright kids, just don't have the same opportunities as their peers thus shucked to lower level classes and passed through school with no hope of higher education. Not unlike our schools in America really, only I think there's perhaps a bit more sympathy in America for orphans than there is here in Korea. Not really certain of the programs we have, but there's is very hush-hush and usually managed by a local Christian or Buddhist community.

To put my statements in perspective, to be an orphan here is to have no family lineage, the keystone of every Korean's life. So to have no family means you don't really have anything to honor and pride yourself on. Remember, in this country they put their last names first as a matter of pride their family. They also base marriages more on the fact of the families liking each other rather than the actual bride and groom to-be. Moreover, the reason the orphans are even orphans at all is usually due to divorce, where off-spring from a first marriage is not accepted as apart of the family of the second marriage thus they're sent away, usually to orphanages like this one I'm volunteering at. Blood is such a big part of Korean culture and psyche that it's also the reason I and other expats are such outcasts. We can't (and should never in some older Korean's minds) share the same blood as them. It's kind of like Harry Potter actually, the fight between 'pure-bloods' and 'half-bloods'. Those who taint the purity of their Korean blood-line with a foreigner spouse are looked down upon by older Koreans, like they've destroyed something sacred and have no shame in it. Even some younger Koreans stare and gawk at mixed race couples with their mixed race children, like animals at a zoo, if you're different you're fair game for eye-balling. My point is that it's not good to be different here. Being the same is good and being the best is your goal. Be the best among the same and you're a role-model for Koreans.

So, back to orphans, they're not as palpably different as mixed-race couples and children or as much as myself and other expats. Yet, they are different in the context of modern Korea. To not have a family to call your own is not a good starting point for a career. I doubt that even with the same education as their peers, the same looks and the same resume that they still wouldn't be picked for the job because of their disconnect from Korean society. But to add to that disconnect is a system against them, meant to keep them at levels of work deemed appropriate by society and the government. I asked my students at my elementary school what they wanted to be and their answers were all big and dreamy like a child's should be. Astronauts, soccer players, scientists, dancers. Given that my orphanage students are a little older and so a little less likely to dream so big, I asked them just to see and they didn't have answers. Neither believed they had any real choice in the matter. They just followed the system, did as they were told and lived day to day. "How was your week?" "Nothing special." "How about ten years from now?" "Nothing special."

Though I don't go often and really can't speak with my students with out the Korean translator with me, I really would like to help the students, to make a difference in their lives. It seems others feel the same but just don't know how to go about it. I can't help but think that perhaps that's all people, that everyone just wants to help, wants the best for their fellow man. Thus, with this new found optimism I'm returning full force every week with my games and spunk in the highest of hopes, thinking all the while about the story of the little girl throwing starfish back into the sea and answering the question of "Why? When they're are so many to be helped? Why bother?" and she replies with another toss of a starfish, "It mattered to that one." It's a very empowering story to run through your head over and over, and I think it's a bit more productive than my paranoid running theory.

Thus, on that note, my new progressive theory is that perhaps I can make a slight glimmer of hope appear on my student's horizons, even if it's very small and not remembered by either. I would like to think that like my progress in French for me, their sliver of progress for them gives them a boost of confidence in a world weighted against them. That with just a little handout of help that they'll think "Yes, I can." and that perhaps that can stretch on through their next, major rat-racing years. Extremely optimistic, I know, but if you think about their stories, about why they're where they are and why I'm sometimes unhappy where I am, then I think it's the perfect medicine. Nothing cures suppression like ignorant, love-filled optimism and enjoyment right?

Running

"A year alone can fool any mind, into thinking there ain't much to rewind."

My thoughts exactly. Most days here pass by me like spindles of a pinwheel, going round and round with the same activities, same friends, same life. But when the rarity of getting a whole day to myself arises, and I finally have the hours to pass on my own watch, I'm off-set, nearly nervous. I don't know what to do with my time. I think there must be some great activity I can accomplish, some Mona Lisa in need of painting, or some child in need of saving. I want to DO something but find myself suffocated for work or even play. I find myself starving for life.

In that suffocation, one could go crazy. Or shall I say one does go crazy, as that's where I feel I'm finally at because I'm paranoid as I walk down the street. I know what will happen, I know how many looks I'll receive just because I'm 'different', a 'foreigner'. I'm also scantily dressed for Korea, not America, but Korea in general. I'm wearing a tank-top with a short-sleeved sweater over it, rather short shorts and doll-like shoes with little embroidered flowers on them. I'm comfortable for the eighties high day that awaits me. I know I'll get stares of course, but then that spiteful, crazy voice inside my head says "NO! You have every right to dress the way you want, when you want, and most certainly on YOUR day off with high temps!" One last look in the mirror before I leave my self-centered island of an apartment and I'm off, out to turn some heads but trying my best to be apathetic towards it because I'm going to DO something today, not just hide in my shelter and watch a beautiful day pass me by.

It's paranoia I think as I walk down the street. I feel stares, I see old men and women stop what their doing as I walk by, hear conversations halt just to ogle me. It's then that I wish I could melt into the moss colored paint peeling of a building next to me and disappear, fade into black like Metallica always ominously sings in my ear. I just want to be where I'm normal!

It's not everyday that I feel this isolated. Most days I have school to think about, French to study, a novel to throw myself into, friends to meet in Seoul. I have a life, I swear. It's just on days like today, when the weather is beautiful and I have hours to squander that I wish for freedom, liberation from my worries of stares and thoughts of others. I long for America then. I admit it, I wish I was in the land of equality and freedom even if it's tainted with greed and sex driven sociopaths. At least there no one checks to see if I can speak the language, or comes up to me to ask about my religion (okay they do, but they're much easier to tell off than these Korean zealots!), no one stares unabashed as I walk in a store, and no one comes up to me asking for lessons in English (a quirk here that I understand, yet abhor because it's like a hard slap of a reminder that I'm different.) All these things and more dissipate as I cross into America (or even American army bases). The level at which my appearance matters goes down from 99% to 20% in importance. I can then stretch out on a lawn chair on a hot afternoon in just my tank and shorts. I can walk down the street without fear of being accosted by some rando wanting something from me, if even it's just a 'Hello'. I can be among people and pretend I'm at home amongst strangers; probably the greatest thing I miss. Pretty much, I can be me and not be self conscious about being so.

I'm certain that's why I'm now so into running. Just like I was in college and for similar reasons as well: asserting my individuality, proving I can kick ass, and finding peace amongst chaos; just a few on the list of reasons I've picked it up again here and can't seem to stop. It's a good thing for my body especially, which had wasted away on a winter of cabin fever and Korean style Ho-hos. The in-shape side affect is nice, and gives me a boost of confidence to leave my apartment/island. But running, the activity itself, is starting to act as my saving grace here. The sheer enjoyment I get out of it is so magnificent that I sometimes think I should just be like that legendary girl in college who ran everywhere, in just plain clothes, with books and backpack in tow, and with the longest hair I've ever seen bouncing to and fro on her buttocks as she surpassed all onlookers without care. My God I laughed when I finally saw the girl everyone gossiped about. It was so funny to see. Her and that hair- a perfectly constructed unit and now legend of my college years. I laughed but now I cry. I want to be like that girl here I think. I understand her now. It's so liberating to fly everywhere, past everyone and their judgments and eyes.

When I'm running no one comes up to me for English lessons, no one accosts me about religion. If they stare, I tell myself they're staring in awe at how fast that foreigner girl is. If I catch them staring I run faster, stronger; it becomes a matter of pride in myself and my foreign status that makes me push for the stars and beyond. No one can stop me. I am free but also of an island, one that is outside my small apartment yet which still serves as a home for my thoughts and self and safety from all else. Korea fades into the badly painted buildings and stair wells and not just my Metallica me. I become the queen of the road or pathway I'm cruising upon. I find my voice in my head and she's powerful now, unstoppable. She starts to chant a mantra and I start to run to its beat. She says, "Move out of the way because I'm not afraid of your stares today, I'm not paranoid. I'm ready for anything because I'm running, because I'm free, because I'm me and I'm home!" If this girl had a name it would be just like the movie, Kick Ass!