I’ve been a bit hesitant about writing this post, but it appears that I woke up strangely early this morning and now find myself in an empty cafe, hopped up on a bit too much coffee, relying on too little sleep, and, well – here […]
Currently, I’m working in an English cafe in Busan, South Korea. If you aren’t sure what a job like that entails, the main idea is pretty simple: people come to the cafe to have conversations in English with foreign volunteers (who are fluent English speakers […]
I’ve only been in Busan for about ten days now, but it feels like I’ve been here for much longer. I don’t know whether it’s the fact that I spend what feels like an eternity participating in small talk at an English cafe for four hours a day, six days a week, or if it’s because I’ve somehow managed to adjust (probably not). Can I complain though? They say going abroad gives you the opportunity to learn from the locals, and what’s a better way to do so than being sat at a table for three ninety minute shifts Monday thru Saturday, hopped up on either no coffee or too much coffee, engaging in simple conversation? If I sound ungrateful, this is solely coming from the fact that there are some days where the conversations are fun and lighthearted, while others feel a bit like I’m trudging through quicksand in the middle of a thunderstorm blindfolded – maybe being eaten alive by mosquitos, or something equally as uncomfortable. Is it obvious what kind of day I had today? Perfect.
It’s been a while since I last posted – I know; let this be a semi-regular occurrence until I have more free time (something I’m halfheartedly craving because otherwise I feel as if I’d be too bored). Between work, tutoring, and otherwise adventuring and exploring the city, I haven’t had time to post on here often (or really at all, sorry). I’m hoping this will change soon – mostly because there’s so much I want to say, but I don’t have the energy to piece it together in somewhat grammatically correct English, which is either due to the fact that I spend half of my day listening to broken English, or the fact that I’m tired. I hope some of this is making sense, but I’ve been up since 8am (which is ridiculously early here), and had over five hours of tutoring/conversation today – so my English is wavering.
While I’m still in the process of sifting through and editing footage from Seoul, my first video from Busan is now up on my YouTube channel, a new endeavor I’m going to attempt to take on … Keep in mind this is the first time that I’ve done anything like this, so I’m still learning the process (including being steadier with the camera).
Enjoy, and until next time!
Remember when I was simply moving from the fourth grade to the fifth grade?
To be honest, me either. But now that I’m about one week out from The Big Move, I have come to the realization that I’m officially out of distractions. I had this feeling for a while, this ingrained gut feeling, where I assumed all of this was happening to someone else. That girl over there decided to move. That girl should probably start packing. That girl needs to stop spending time thinking about what book she wants to read next, and where she wants to eat lunch because she’s leaving. Or, I’m leaving. There we go, some responsibility is finally being taken.
It’s strange though. I spent the majority of my last semester of my undergrad thinking about this move, and now that it’s finally here I’ve somehow managed to push it away. I filed it away in this tiny, insignificant corner in my head. Regardless, it’s happening, and I’m still trying to process what that means.
There was a period of time where I was floating, drifting around in a space that felt neither tangible nor particularly empty. It was an in-between; a break in reality where a small piece of me managed to slip through into this place that was reminiscent of something more dream-like than anything else I’ve ever experienced: It was a Saturday morning on the patio of your favorite coffee shop, the smell of freshly made pastries wafting just under your nose, filling you up until you were warm, until your breathing was even and steady. It was your favorite book in hand, the pages crinkling beneath the pads of your fingers. It was the warmth of a memory that was slightly fictionalized. Quietly so. So quietly that you could convince yourself that place existed and you had been there countless times. Comfort – that was the interstice I had crawled into.
This was the problem. I often find myself slipping back into that comfort during transitional periods of my life. I hide in it until I’m in the new! place and then I crawl back out, bright-eyed and curious. Then, I transition elsewhere. This may or may not be one of the reasons I decided to start blogging. As my rather odd yoga instructor used to say “let your breath breathe you,” (you can call BS on that one, I get it) which I think now was an attempt to get everyone to channel the messiness of individual patterned thought to focus on nothing at all other than the experience of the moment, this moment. Or not. Yet, most of the time whenever he would say that phrase, I would be holding back a groan, so feel free to completely ignore it as is, but understand at least what I’m trying to get at here.
So I’m going to focus on these passing moments rather than letting them slip away until I find myself on a plane to a place very very far away. As the next week crawls by, as I make my way to that final departure date, I’m going to step away from the inevitable stress and sadness I’m holding, and simply be. What does that mean? I don’t have the slightest idea. It sounds pretty vague and eerily wise though, right? Like something your drunk aunt would say at Thanksgiving.
BUT! There are a few things that I do know, right at this passing moment (ha ha!):
1) I’m going to miss my family more than anything else when I leave.
2) I’m nervous.
3) I’m so incredibly excited.
[featured photo: graffiti park at castle hill, austin, tx]