Little Wanderer

Hey everyone, or no one, it’s been a while. When I was considering this blog post I thought that nothing of note has happened since I went on a sudden hiatus. However, that’s just not true.

Since May I have flown to San Diego for vacation with my family, and I also met and interviewed the cast from some of my favorite TV shows. I have learned how to play Settlers of Catan, finally establishing me as an all around nerd. And last but not least, I have come upon my final term in Korea. These will be my last three months in Korea before I return to America.

You might recall that I was absolutely in love with Korea when I first arrived. I still have that love, and there will be parts of this country and culture I miss a lot. After going to San Diego I realized that I didn’t want a future in Korea. I miss being around creative and like-minded people like I am in America. Obviously, I also miss being able to understand people around me and not feeling like an idiot when a taxi driver is just trying to make polite conversation and I don’t understand what he is saying.

I don’t know what 2017 will hold for me, but I know that I’m young and I had this great opportunity to work and live in Korea, and I don’t regret it at all. I just want to get something started. Badly.

In any case, my feelings toward the final stretch of this journey have all connected to one album: Death Cab for Cutie’s Kintsugi. I only first found it here, and like many of my experiences (specifically Ireland, and European travel)  I found the lyrics of their songs hit close to home…or in this case, Korea.

“Black Sun” and the lyric, “How could something so fair, be so cruel,” sums up my feelings of being so far from loved ones, and yet making close friends in Korea. With my decision to leave, I am coming home, but also leaving a newfound family here.

“Binary Sea” and the chorus “Oh come my love and swim with me/ Out in this vast Binary Sea/ Zeros and ones patterns appear/ They’ll prove to all that we were here/ For if there is no document/ We cannot build our monument” reigns true for my life in Korea. There’s a lesson in my school where we talk about technology addiction, and if I didn’t have it before, I definitely have it now. It scares me how much I seem to depend on my phone.

“No Room in Frame” reminds me of how sensitive I am around seemingly naturally thin Korean women, and how I compare myself to them constantly. “No room for two,” makes my heart ache with how unnecessary I feel here among the perfect make up, and cute outfits. “And I guess it’s not a failure we could help, and we’ll both go to get lonely with someone else,” in my case the “someone else” pertains to another country.

I connect with the entire album so much it’s overwhelming. The mood is so constant with my own in this country. Finally, “Little Wanderer” is exactly how I feel about myself. It feels silly to say, because when I am here I do not feel very adventurous. This is my life, everything has become normal. I imagine this song to be a love story between me and home. “Always fall asleep when you’re waking, I count the hours on my hands.”

Soon enough I’ll be in Japan with my best friend, and then I’ll be home for Christmas, and I can’t wait to wander back to the States.

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