Mine All Mine

Sometimes I sit down to write and get so frustrated as to what in the hell I should write about that I just shut my laptop and walk away. There are so many things that happen in a day or a week that I want to write about, that excite me, make me giggle with happiness or make me want to curl up and cry. I find myself censoring things because the blog is supposed to be about how exciting and adventurous my expat life is. Truth is, sometimes the only one it excites is me. I feel like there is such a demand to feed the people with this crazy international life and all of it's exotic tales of danger and conquer. My fiends back home wait with baited breath after they ask, "What's going on in your life? Are you traveling anywhere? What did you do this weekend? I bet you did something so amazing? Tell me. Tell me now."
I went to a birthday party this weekend.
Oh. Did you do anything else? Ya know, exciting?
Umm...the party was a lot of fun. It was exciting, I mean. I met a lot of new people. Had real western cake.
Oh. Well, that's cool.

I want to say, yeah actually it is cool. Western cake is amazing, and I miss it. I'm tired of this cool whip/sweet potato cake crap at Paris Baguette.

I want to write about how I fixed my own washing machine, how I can order an entire meal in another language. I want to tell you about the boy I had coffee with, who even though his English is weak, we had a fantastic conversation. How I've never had a thing for brown eyes, but his were beautiful. I'd write about how I die a little bit inside each time someone tells me that this "traveling and living abroad thing" is just a phase and when it's over I can settle down and get married. I want to post about riding shot gun in a car (so rare here!) or about God. Just God. How much I'm in love with him and how I desperately need him all the time.

So maybe in all actuality, cerealandchopsticks is telling the story of a girl who is changing, all the time whether that be through sticking her hand down a dark nasty dank hole to fix her washing machine and being triumphant, or falling for the wrong guy. I love Korea. I seriously love this country and fall a little bit more in love every week, and I want the next five months to go by very slowly. But, I'm not going to write about all these "Eat, Pray, Love" moments all the time. I'm going to write about how she's changing me; how God is leading me through this wayward life I love dearly.

Point is, the purpose of this blog isn't to be a side dish to a travel book. It's for me. It's mine. All mine.

The Way of the Waygook

Before I plunge into this first attempt at a serious post, please be informed that for all expats living in larger cities, this might not apply to you. So if you are currently living, or are moving to, a massive city teeming with foreigners then this probably isn't the way it is for you.

The first month in Korea I was utterly alone. When I visited a church my third week here, I was so used to speaking English to my students that I forgot articles such as "the" and I talked with my hands way more than necessary. I became desperate to find some other foreigners to hang out and talk with. Then just as my first month anniversary with Korea was around the corner, I met foreigners. The sun shone a bit brighter and there was a spring in my step. Three waygook girls walked down the streets of Naju saying "this is the best day ever," and "I love Korea!" 

See, when living in any foreign country, regardless of language barrier (although having one makes this even more so) having someone who understands your situation makes everything better. We might not have been friends on the other side of the world, but here we are brethren, kindred spirits tied together by many things. There is so much beauty in expat communities. It is beautiful, to show up at a bar or grocery store, see a foreigner, exchange numbers, and be at ease with a fellow English speaker. The expat community is small in my area and the Christian expat community is even smaller, so we search each other out; going to churches we don't know how to get to, ride buses unsure of their destination, all for the purpose of finding others like ourselves. We all came here with a similar purpose: to live a little freer, a little more scared perhaps, but we live a life that is different from everyone else we know, so when we see that little spark of recognition in a fellow traveler, we cling to it. Most of us can recognize the asshole who came to Korea to shirk responsiblity and drink/sex their way across the country so as to make a bad name for the rest of us. They're quite obvious let me assure you.

Finding a friend here is indeed finding someone very similar to yourself. We have sold our cars, houses, given away pets, said good-bye to every family member and friend to set out in search of adventure and what not. We can bemoan the fact that we miss our cats, are really craving a frosty from Wendy's, and when homesickness sets in we can have a cry together. (I am aware that this seems to be leaning more towards the female expat community and I apologize, but it's about to get worse.) This week, I was at a bar with some new made friends who are all female and single. For the first time in years, I was with women who made a toast to singleness and actually meant it. Now I'm sure as the months pass we will begin to curse the waygook men because they're all dating Korean women. And while we toss around certain derogatory names for men and wear scowling faces we will secretly forgive them because Korean women are so beautiful.

So here we are, expats coming together and greeting each other even though we are strangers. We live a life none of our friends back home can fully understand or grasp. We drink alone sometimes, and eat alone even more often. We leave behind our shy and introverted ways to seek out strangers who can become friends. There is something beautiful in this community of strangers that when I really look at, aren't strangers at all. This is simply the way of the waygook.