Continental Drift

So I'm going to be boarding my flight back home in about an hour or so.

The whole experience seems a little unreal. After all, in a month, I've come to Korea, taught elementary school students, was quarantined by the Korean government, and visited some of the country's most rural, urban, and exotic places. And then I went back to Japan, met up with my host family and a good friend, and visited a couple new places.

So many new experiences. Not all of them were fun, but none of them were bad. If anything, I've learned so much about myself in the small space I've had to think.

I wish there was more time to see more, meet more people, go out more, shop more, write more, take more pictures. My month of experiences is full, but woefully inadequate.

A week back at home is fine. Then, give me a plane ticket back, and let me plan the trip. Let me bring my people and adventure around. Oh, I can only dream!

Tadaima

I wanted to write a post a couple days ago, but I haven't had time to do much of anything.

Do I have to say how much I love being back in Nagoya? Honestly, this feels just as much a home to me as St. Louis. I haven't traveled here, I've lived in this city, studied here, had fun here, and was challenged more than I ever have been anywhere else.

The subways smell familiar. I feel comfortable in the crowds here, not crowded. For the past three days I've spoken nothing but Japanese, and even though it's been difficult, I haven't really noticed myself struggling to understand.

I wish I had more time here with my host family, with my friends, and with the city. I want to see it at night, in the early morning, go shopping, and walk around its streets all day.

I love Nagoya more than I ever expected to. It's so passed over; most people in America don't even know it exists. Yet there's a certain charm here and also in St. Louis. It's a city you want to live in, not visit. It becomes more beautiful and interesting the more time you spend, slowly unfolding its beauty like a flower in bloom.

I'm a bit homesick in a way that's difficult to describe. I don't want to leave here; the thought of it makes me a little sick to my stomach. What if I never come back? What if something happens to my host family while I'm gone? And the biggest worry: when am I ever going to be able to bring my mother here with me? I want her to see this place that I've come to love so much. It's the one thing I'd love to give to her after she's sacrificed so much for me.

Nonetheless, I leave for Korea tomorrow. A night in Seoul, and then I'm back home and free to recount all of the stories I have piled up to tell you.

I Could Be a Contender...

Expect a full post later on tonight, but look:

How to Fight With Your Host Family

I'm a published writer!

When in Doubt, Dance.

I have great story about Tuesday to tell, but it's going to have to come later. It was just so strange, so epic of a day that I want to recount it for you with all of the details and pictures that a day like that should have. You know, those great days that come out of nowhere because the people you meet are so incredibly interesting? That's why I love traveling, not because of the great scenery. Although I have photos of that, too.

So far I'm really loving it here at Damyang. It's certainly not a big, cosmopolitan city with lots of things to do and places to see, but there's actually buildings, bars, cafes, grocery stores, cars, and people. If I venture out of the college, I pass a bamboo forest, walk down a bridge, and go past little stalls serving street food such as fried fish, barbequed chicken, and fried green tea pancakes that taste like funnel cake and are filled with melted brown sugar, honey and finely chopped nuts.

My camp is amazing, filled with such a great mix of energetic and laid back individuals. And I absolutely love my co-teacher, Ja In, who speaks great English and has been a very good friend and co-worker to me. On the first day we met, she offered to take me to Gwangju to shop, but we weren't allowed to leave until the principal arrived at camp. We missed our chance to go, but she bought me ice cream and chips at lunch that day. Later on, we went with Jessica, another co-teacher, and other native English teachers to a hof, which is what they call bars. We all had a bottle of beer and ate fried shrimp, melon, and fried pork.

The day I learned the Korean words for "beautiful" and "beer."

This post was written on Aug. 7th, and edited over a month later. I'm so sorry for the wait.


Life in Korea changed immensely for the better when we left Wando. In fact, the day we left Wando was one of those wonderful days that starts good (we're leaving Quarantine Island forever!) and ends epically.

This Quarantine is Over

If you would have asked me ahead of time what quarantine was like, my answer definitely would not have been middle school. And yet, somehow, that's almost exactly what this feels like.

Don't get me wrong, the other teachers are all very nice. But there have been some things happening lately that I really hoped I would have left behind in the U.S.

200 Pounds Beauty

On Wednesday night, I watched the Korean film 200 Pounds Beauty, a movie about a 200-pound girl with an ugly face. Hanna works as a phone sex operator and is the singing voice of Ammy, a mean, manipulative pop star. After a hurtful prank causes Hanna to lose face in front of Ammy's attractive manager, Hanna blackmails one of her phone sex clients into giving her total plastic surgery. She goes into seclusion for a year and works off literally half of her body weight (there are scenes with a newly beautiful Hanna jumping around the house in one of her legs of her old jeans). Her face is completely reconstructed.