Don't Forget the Sky.

---CHA-CHA-CHANGES---

As most of you know, l recently started working at an elementary school.  Due to budget cuts within the Korean Department of Education, all high school and middle school foreign teachers were moved to elementary schools.  So, it was neither my choice nor in my control, but I was okay with it.  Well, not at first.  At first, I panicked, stressed myself out, and felt overwhelmed.  I mean, I am living in a foreign country which presents its own set of problems and daily stresses, but adding on a move and numerous small, loud children didn’t seem like it would help much.

Confused and unsure of what to do, I did what always helps me the most:  I talked to my family.  They always provide love and support which helps calm my nerves and makes me feel that everything will be okay.  Along with this comfort, I also depended on the sharply honest, intelligent words of my sister which are sometimes exactly what I need.  “You didn’t move to Korea to get comfortable,” she said.  “You moved there to challenge yourself, to face new adventures, and that’s exactly why you need to be open to the change ahead of you.” 

There was something about that statement that changed not only my decision, but also completely changed my attitude.  I DIDN’T move to Korea to get comfortable, I moved to Korea to avoid getting comfortable, to avoid being too content to the point where I stop feeling...anything.  I’d rather feel challenged and grow as a person than to become an unchanging, slowly rusting robot in my daily life.  And, well, elementary school was and is anything BUT comfortable.

----ELEMENTARY SCHOOL----

On my second day of work at my new elementary school, I had to teach three first grade classes ALONE; no co-teacher, no English translation, just me and 25 students who don’t even know the English alphabet.  I was terrified.  I showed them pictures of America and my family, we sang an alphabet song (“A is for apple—a a apple…), and then I gave them a worksheet with a big ant on it to color.  As I walked around, nervous that I’d be accosted to answer a question in Korean, I saw something that made me stop in my tracks:  a few students had not only colored the picture of the ant, but they had drawn the sky—clouds, sun, blues, yellows.  The sky.  These five year old children had completed their job/task, but had taken time away from that to stop and add something that was important to them—the SKY.  They took the time to shape each cloud uniquely, to lightly fill the area around the clouds with a misty blue, and to add in a big, bright sun, rays and all.  They hadn’t forgotten the sky.  But, like many other people my age, I had.

---BALINESE SUNSET---

Immediately I was reminded of an incredible moment that I had in Bali, Indonesia two weeks before this.  I, along with two of my best friends, had taken a day of relaxation on the beach—reading, music, and a short nap.  When I awoke from my nap I saw that the sky was on fire—it was time for the sunset.  We grabbed our towels and moved closer to the water.  Everything was still, silent, but warm.  The beach was filled with scattered bodies—sitting, standing, wading in the water.  Despite the lively crowds, every face was turned towards the setting sun.  It became quiet, peaceful.  Everyone had stopped.  They knew that this was a moment that was important—no one wanted to miss the SKY. 

Eyes glistened with the reflection of the sunset on the water beaming through them.  I let every other thought leave my head, and I tried to take in every last ounce of that sunset.  I felt it in my bones, through my veins, pumping from my heart into my brain.  It was one of the best moments of my life.  Who knew that something as simple as watching the sunset, looking at the sky, could be so important and necessary? 

My first grade students did.  The Balinese people did.  And, I wanted to.

---THE CONNECTION---

My time in Bali was one of the most rewarding experiences because I felt an appreciation and peacefulness that I had forgotten existed.  Every morning during my time in Bali, we would open our two doors, let in the light breeze, and listen to the morning prayers.  The soft drumming, twinkling bells, harmonic Sanskrit, and incense would drift into our room.  We would then sip on strong, delicious Balinese coffee sloooooowly, enjoying every drop.  We’d later be greeted by smiling faces, be surrounded by local laughter, and end our day with a beautiful view of small, bird-like kites filling the sky.  

I couldn't figure out why Balinese people were so happy until that evening on the beach when I watched the sunset.  Then I realized—they don’t forget the important things.  They don’t get caught up in the distractions that most of us do.  They work hard, but they set aside time to focus on what’s important to them:  their daily prayers, family, friends, and the natural environment around them. 

When I came back from Bali, one of the first things I did was go to the grocery store.  While riding down the escalator, I watched the people move quickly, distracted, in and out, as fast as they could, through the store, just like they do in life.  It made me sad.  I’ve been one of those people—one of those people who is so distracted with everything that is going on in my life—who multitasks to the point where I give nothing 100% of my attention or emotion.  I can do so many things in one day, giving each a small amount of myself, but never really stopping to focus on ONE thing, to give one thing 100% of myself.  Therefore, I become (as mentioned before) an unchanging robot who is effective in productivity but has no sense of emotion or passion.  I think we all are, or have been, robots in our own lives, technically alive but dead in every other way.

---DON’T FORGET THE SKY---

I’m making it a point to start being more like my first graders, more like the Balinese people, who STOP and FULLY enjoy the things around them.  I don’t want to be one of those people who forget that one of the most beautiful sights, something that can spike a passion and feeling of life within me, is right above me, and all I need to do is stop and look up. 

So I challenge you, along with myself, to ignite that passion that you had when you were young, and when you’re drawing the picture of your life, to never forget the sky. ♥

Rememberance of things...present.

____________________________________

Streets lined with small, open rooms
Rooms furnished on each side with cheap, red plastic chairs
Chairs filled by young, longing faces
Young longing faces attached to young, developing bodies
Young developing bodies clothed in small garments of bright colors
Bright colors worn on her cheeks, lips, and eyes
Eyes looking empty, sad, lost, fearful
Fear used to control the bodies, the girls
Girls, not yet women, still too young
Youth--stolen by the preying thieves
Thieves too selfish to respect her innocence
Innocence taken each night someone stops
"Stop"--a word she may never use freely
Freedom--something she can only hope for
Hope, all she has left until we stop
Stop stopping to steal her future
_____________________________________

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you're a small child, in a public place with your mother or parent, and you somehow get separated from them?  You can see your mother looking around in desperation as you shout "mom!" at the top of your lungs.  And though she seems so close, your face and voice are just a smidge too distant and weak for her to see you or hear your cries.  You outstretch your arms, seeming only an arms-length away, hoping to grasp onto her dangling hand, but once you try, you miss because you're just out of reach.  And, as that moment slips away, you see her slowly wander into the opposite direction while the panic starts to set in.  First it creeps into your stomach leaving a tight, uncomfortable feeling.  Then, it slowly makes its way into your head, blurring your thoughts and making you dizzy as it also seems to completely cover your heart leaving only pain and a loss of hope.  You don't know what to do, how to make your way back to her--she's gone and now you're lost and don't know where to go or what to do next.

Thankfully, it's only a dream.  And, well, eventually you wake up at the perfect moment when the last ounce of hope was about to be lost in the crowd, just as you were.  Upon waking, you gasp in anguish and then relief from realizing it wasn't real at all.  You look around, see a familiar wall, a familiar picture on your desk, as that feeling of loss slowly drifts out of your body and comfort sets in. 

But, what if you didn't wake up?  What if that dream was a reality?

Recently, I had an experience that gave me the exact feeling that I've felt too many times in my dreams--however, this time, it was real.  There was no awakening at the end that allowed the helpless feeling to drift away, and there was no feeling of comfort or relief that would eventually set in.  There was also no way for me to reach that lost person, for them to hear my cries of help, for them to grasp onto my outstretched hand.  My moment had passed, and reality had set in.  It's a moment I'll never forget.

Allow me to start from the beginning...

**************Thailand**************

It was a great vacation!  A dream come true!  It was the first overseas trip I had taken with no real goal or agenda, to be honest, other than to relax and enjoy myself.  And I did!

Thailand was breathtaking.  Though the chaos and odd foreigner crowds of Bangkok didn't particularly tickle my fancy, the island of Koh Chang (translation:  Elephant Island) did!  It was paradise.  I took a one-hour ferry to get there and never looked back (of course, until I had to leave--insert extremely sad face--).  Lush, green jungle, a variety of interesting wildlife, perfectly warm but cool beaches, fresh colorful fruit, lively people, and the most impeccably delicious food.  Really, paradise. 

Adventure?  Why yes!  Elephant trekking through the jungle, a 5-island snorkeling extravaganza, a 7-hour jungle trek complete with monkey feeding, hornet nest escaping, giant vine swinging, and waterfall swimming.  Oh, and to come "home" from these adventures only to retire sluggishly into a beach lounge chair on the deck overlooking a lagoon and the sea, to watch a documentary playing on a screen over the water while sipping on a delicious coconut shake--oh, what a rough life :)  Paradise. Koh Chang was a place that exceeded my dreams of paradise.  Upon leaving Koh Chang, I felt pangs of sadness  because I knew that the chance of me seeing anything this beautiful, or experiencing anything this perfect, would never come again. I let out dreadful sighs as I watched the beautiful, mountainous island slowly transform into a speckle in the sea. 


***************Cambodia********************

If you've ever seen the quick and drastic scene change in the film Eat.Pray.Love where Julia Robert's character goes from a quiet, relaxing, idealistic dinner in Italy to a chaotic, loud, unsettling taxi ride in India--well, that's the only way I can think to describe my transition from Koh Chang, Thailand to the border of Cambodia.  It was as if, in the blink of an eye, I had left a fantastical dream and entered into a jumbled and confusing reality.

--THE BORDER--

Out of almost all of the places I've ever visited, the Cambodian border was the scariest.  It was unorganized, chaotic, and had random stragglers hanging around who I couldn't make out if they were there actually working or for some other reasons (I don't even want to think about WHAT those other reasons were).  The border consisted of multiple, randomly placed buildings, which you had to visit one at a time, walking outside, sometimes between metal fences on an all-too narrow concrete walkway and sometimes on dusty, dirt roads that seemed to lack any signs or hints as to what direction you should be going in.  With sweat dripping down my face, heavy backpack on my shoulders, and thoughts of Koh Chang painfully floating out of my head, I followed our all-too-untrustworthy guide and prayed that I'd make it through the border alive.  Whether it was the utter shock of change of venue, the lingering feeling of danger, or the fact that I hadn't eaten in hours--whatever the case, I felt lost in a cloud of dust--literally and metaphorically. 

Once through the border, the confusion and oddity didn't end.  We were first taken back by the loooooong line, placed in direct sunlight, that we were told we would have to wait in unless we paid our guide 230 baht.  Coincidentally, that's the exact amount of Thai currency I had left.  Believing that this was a sign to take the "VIP--skip the line" offer, I did so hesitantly as our "guide" took my passport, stuck it in a pile of other passports, handed it to some guy, and said I'd get it back in a few minutes (ya, that's reassuring).  I'll never really know where exactly my passport went during this period, but I was frankly too exhausted to care at the time. 

--SIEM REAP--

Fast forward a few hours through a sketchy cab driver, issues at a "gas station" (shack with two medium-sized tanks in front of it), our amazingly kind European companions, a tuk tuk driver whose initial take-off catapulted all of our luggage into a busy street, and then finally you'll get to the part where I arrived safely in Siem Reap.  Ahh, Siem Reap.  Despite its overly-touristy Pub Street (which I kinda loved) and copious amounts of tuk tuk drivers offering me anything from an actual tuk tuk ride to drugs and prostitution, it was a calmer, safer, more relaxed version of the Cambodia I had first been introduced to.  And for that, I was thankful.

Siem Reap--the land of $2 gourmet meals, $3 massages, 50cent beers, and the most amazing temples you will ever see in your life.  I could have spent weeks in Siem Reap and still wouldn't have felt that I had taken it all in.  This part of my journey seemed to be extremely fast-paced, physically and mentally draining, and eye-opening in many ways.

The gigantic, detailed temples of Angkor Wat, the numerous small young children trying to sell me souvenirs, the aggressive women selling water ("Cold water.  One Dollar. You want cold water?"), the delicious fruit on the side of the road (freshly cut mango, 2 for $1 or a whole coconut--drink it and then cut it up and eat it for $1), the sad stories that were delivered at the most unexpected times by the most unexpected people (tuk tuk driver makes a detour to his house late at night in the middle of nowhere to tell us his story.....woman tells me her story while in the middle of my leg massage), and the surprisingly modern slew of restaurants and foreigners.  Siem Reap was full of juxtapositions;  extreme juxtapositions that were beautiful and interesting while still being completely confusing at the same time.  All of these things, and more, made Siem Reap one of the most overwhelming places I've ever been. 

I still have difficulty, and probably always will, describing the vast array of emotions I felt while in Siem Reap.  They were intense, constantly changing, and being caused solely by the things around me.  The pace of my time in Siem Reap seemed to keep my mind actively aware of the things around it-- allowing myself to stay only on the surface of my mind, restricting me from delving deeper, and leaving me no time to analyze what I was seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling, etc.  My senses were on high alert, trying to take it all in, while leaving my mind too exhausted and overloaded to process any of what it absorbed--until now, that is.  I was even almost afraid to go back to Siem Reap in my mind because it still overwhelms me, makes me anxious, fills me with the fear that I'll never really have enough time to process everything.  So to say Siem Reap was "filling" would be an understatement.  Rather, to say I left with an overflow of thoughts and emotions would be more accurate.  And, though I didn't know it at the time, there were even more impactful sights I would see--more overwhelming experiences waiting for me at the last and final stop of my journey, Phnom Phen.  This is where I would have a moment, just like in a dream, that would change my life forever.

--PHNOM PHEN--

My journey from Siem Reap to Phnom Phen was even more eventful than my transition from Koh Chang to the Cambodian border.

The bus ride:  6 hours, packed full, people standing down the center aisle, seat broken, woman vomitting in the seat across from mine, horn blaring, stops, drops, pick-ups, shacks and running chickens on the side of the road.  It was an experience.

Upon arriving in Phnom Phen, I was shocked to see a Dairy Queen (the first I've seen in 7 months) which was such a contrast to the extreme poverty-stricken areas I had watched for hours on my journey there.  This was only one of the many shocking sights I saw in Phnom Phen. 

On a happier note, I was excited to see a bunch of foreigners' faces (not foreign to me though!) who were in town for an ultimate frisbee tournament.  My travel companion was set to play in the tournament, which gave me access to amazing new friends, free food, and awesome parties.  I was living it up and enjoying every minute of it.  And, thanks to a few of my new friends, I was introduced to one of the most delicious vegetarian restaurants.  Hummus and Greek salad, anyone? :)  I was in heaven! 

The next day, per a new friend's recommendation, I visited the Genocide Museum and Killing Fields.  I didn't know anything about the history of battles fought in Cambodia, so it was very shocking to learn about it.  The museum provided a lot of information about what actually went on in Cambodia at the time.  The museum was in an old school that had been turned into a prison and torture center for people who were wanted for interrogation.  Numerous portraits, cells, and weapons still remain at the old school.  I even met one of the survivors.  This made the situation even more real, seeing that the events that happened there didn't happen that long ago.

--Killing Fields--

After learning about the history behind the situation in Cambodia, I finally visited the Killing Fields. Upon entering, I was given a headset and controller to listen to information, explanations, and personal stories to go along with different sections of the Killing Fields.  I must say, I was glad I went alone.  Shocking, yes.  Difficult to handle, yes.  Emotionally exhausting, yes. 

As I walked around the area, I was stepping on fragments of bone that had surfaced.  I saw pieces of skulls, teeth, and clothing scraps that had been placed on glass cases, found by visitors just like me, waiting to be added to the numerous collections already enclosed in the cases.  I stood by a tree, in tears, as I listened to the facts:  this was the "baby-killing" tree, where officers would hold babies by their feet and hit them against the tree, then throw them into one of the mass graves. This tree also stood by a mass grave where women were first stripped, raped, head bashed, and then tossed into. 

Speechless. I was speechless as tears gently poured down my cheeks, remembering.  What else could I do?  The only thing I was capable of was remembering. 

--Frisbee Golf, oh, I mean Ultimate Frisbee--


After feeling emotionally drained and upset by the shocking sites I had seen, my friends tried to lighten my spirit and distract my mind by inviting me to join them at one of the Ultimate parties.  We got to the party which was held in a beautiful club, room reserved just for the group.  It was great!  We danced, listened to live music, and laughed. 

The next day, my last day of vacation, I attended the final rounds of the Ultimate Frisbee tournament.  Knowing absolutely nothing about it, I watched in awe as people did things with frisbees I didn't know were possible.  It was fun.  I sat in the sun, ate delicious food, read a little, mingled, and made even more friends.  I even got to enjoy the ridiculously funny slip and slide competition at the end of the tournament.  It was a great day to say the least.  To finish off my day, some friends and I went back to the vegetarian restaurant (which may have been my 4th time there in 2 days) and had a much needed, healthy meal. I was happy :)

And then, my trip was over.  I hopped in the tuk tuk for my final ride.  

On my way to the airport I tried to take in every last smell, every last sight, every last moment.  I looked around, watched the people carrying fresh fruit, smelled the scent of coconuts and fresh basil, saw the sky darken and the lights of vehicles illuminate the smiles of the Cambodians riding them. I felt the warm Cambodian breeze, so foreign to the winter I had been experiencing; a breeze that I would never come across again.  I remembered the excitement I felt as I got to feel an elephant's skin against mine for the first time.  The humidity I experienced in the jungle that I had only read about in books.  The overwhelming immenseness of Angkor Wat--a size and extremity that I thought I understood until I saw it with my own eyes.  I had had an AMAZING experience, numerous experiences.  I had experienced paradise, visited places I had seen on the Discovery Channel, and done things I had only dreamed I could do.  It was the best vacation anyone could ask for.

--CHANGE--

I was about 5 minutes from the airport when everything, and I mean everything, changed. 

My tuk tuk driver turned the corner and we approached a well-lit street. It looked exciting, colorful, fun.  It had numerous open-front restaurants and bars that looked packed full of people, like great places to go.  But wait...they weren't restaurants and bars.

As I got closer, I realized that these open-front, box-like businesses were colorful rooms, lined on each side with red plastic chairs.  Each and every one of the rooms was full.  And each and every one of the chairs was full.  As I looked closer, the bodies in the chairs were girls, young girls.  The girls had short, sparkly skirts, flashy bras or barely-there shirts, bright, colorful makeup, and excessive hairdos.  They were each wearing high heels and not much else.  As a guess I would say that there were about 30 or more businesses like this, probably more, and about 20 girls in each.  But, these businesses weren't selling food or beer, they were selling real human beings.

That's when it hit me. That feeling--that feeling I used to get in dreams when I'm separated from someone, left helpless, and though I'm stretching my arms out as far as they will go, and screaming at the top of my lungs because I want to help them, I want to reach them again, I want them to hear me--but they don't.  Their grasp slowly slips away through my fingertips and any hope I had of holding onto them is gone. 

But this wasn't a dream, it was reality.  I wasn't going to wake up or be able to feel the comfort I had once felt or be able to give them the comfort they once felt.  This was different.  I had read about this kind of thing--studied it actually.  I had studied it for years, watched numerous documentaries, completed reports on it.  But this, this was real.

I was seeing it, experiencing it with my own eyes.  That feeling of helplessness started to creep inside me.  It was a different sadness and helplessness than the one I felt when visiting the Killing Fields or doing research about past stories of these kinds of things.  In those situations, I couldn't help--they were the past and I was living in the future of those events.  But this, this was the present.  It was right there, before my eyes, and I still couldn't do anything.

I wanted to rescue each and every one of the girls, give them freedom, let them know their worth, tell them they can do anything in life if they believe in themselves. But I couldn't, I couldn't. As I looked at their faces, the feeling of helplessness, of anxiety crept over my mind, my heart.  I watched these women, these girls, being sold like food, to feed the selfish desires of passerbys who happen to go by and stop because they saw something that looked appetizing.  These girls; being looked at like meat, like toys, not like people, not like humans.  I wanted to scream, and I tried, but nothing came out. Only tears rolled down my face, hands shaking, mind blurring, heart aching.

I was just about to the airport when I passed one of the last "human-selling businesses" and saw one of the most disturbing sights I've ever seen in my life.  In front of the semi-empty store front was a young boy, maybe 8 years old.  He was standing close to the road, but far enough away to be out of reach.  He was holding a large red glow baton that most police officers use at night to direct traffic.  He was shoving it in and out of his mouth, into his cheek, and down his throat.  He was bait. He was human bait. 

At that moment, my life changed. 

****************NOW*************

Once I arrived home, I felt an overwhelming mixture of thoughts and emotions.  I had seen, first hand, that all of the horrific stories I had read about, all of the things I thought I knew about, were real.  It's easy to distance yourself from problems when they're simply just words on a page, just text.  But, when you see a woman and child being bought and sold on the side of the road for sex, when you see the look on their faces--a look of wanting to escape but feeling even more hopeless and helpless than I did knowing I couldn't save them in that moment, well--that's when you realize they aren't just stories--they're reality, they're real people. 

I thought, for a moment, that these are the types of things, the treatment, that only happen in poverty-stricken countries.  That is, until I was walking down a popular street in Haeundae one day (one of the richest districts in Busan, South Korea) and saw a young teenage couple fighting.  The boy was screaming at the girl, pushing her, as she stood motionless in tears in front of him.  He then shoved her into his car, slammed the door shut, opened the door again, and leaned in to start hitting her.  She put up her hands in defense, only to have him pull them down and hit her again.  This went on for some time.  People passed by, including grown men, and no one stopped to help. No one told him to stop, no one asked if the girl was okay--no one cared.  It was accepted. Again, I felt helpless--knowing that being a foreigner I couldn't speak the language, and being a woman I just might make the situation worse by causing him to take out his anger at me on his girlfriend instead.  

*************WHAT WE CAN DO!*****************

This inequality, this treatment, is UNACCEPTABLE.  We are all human beings and we all deserve to be treated like human beings.  It's time to make it known that we won't accept to be treated like less than that.

DO SOMETHING.  Be informed, stay informed. Get involved.  Help other people. Help yourself. 

I will NEVER accept a friend, boyfriend, etc who treats me with less respect than I think every human being deserves. You shouldn't either. 


*********One Final Note*********
When I stop and think about the Red Light Districts in Thailand and Cambodia--all of those women and children being bought and sold--I ask myself:  "Why?"  WHY? 

These businesses aren't for the Thai and Cambodian men, they are for the foreigners with money.  A business cannot continue on if it has no customers.  One person's selfishness and greed can take the life, the joy, the happiness, the hope, the future out of another's life.  Please, don't be that person.  Please, don't take away someone else's future.
_______________________________________________________________

Living one of my dreams:  riding an elephant in the jungles of Thailand!

Coconut--$1

Swimming with elephants in Thailand!

A guard in the Grand Palace in Bangkok, Thailand

Monkeys in Thailand

Feeding monkeys

Cute monkey holding my hand :)

Amazing fruit shake stand in Bangkok, Thailand



Grand Palace in Bangkok, Thailand



Tomorrow, I'll Be Different.

Some people, when they hear the word "change", get a knot in their stomach. Whether this tight, uncomfortable feeling is due to nervousness or excitement, or sometimes a little of both, we may not always know.  What I DO know is that I'm experiencing that feeling at this very moment. 

Tomorrow, I will be venturing off on my winter vacation to Thailand and Cambodia. I'll be spending about a week in each country. When planning the trip, I realized how utterly blessed I am to even have the opportunity to travel to these countries. This thought still overwhelms me with humble appreciation, happiness, excitement, and many other emotions. If you would have asked me a year ago what I would be doing at this exact moment (Monday, Feb. 12, 2013 9:02pm) I would have probably given you a much different answer from the reality of the situation. I never would have expected to be sitting in my quaint apartment in South Korea, full of nerves, going over whether or not I fit everything I need for my trip into a small backpack. 

That's where the whole "change" thing comes into play. My life has changed so drastically in one year that it sometimes stops me in my tracks and takes my breath away. I believe at this time last year I appeared to be a well-put-together person who had everything going for her--an amazing job, a beautiful apartment, good friend as a roommate, healthy, etc etc.  And, well, that was quite different than the truth. Yes, I did have an amazing job with incredible students (who by the way I miss VERY much), but that was about the only thing that was well-put-together in my life.  My job was my life, and the moment I drove away from it each day, I fell apart. 

Watching your indiviudality, all those emotions, interests and characteristics that make you YOU, disappear before your eyes, and having no idea how to find them again, is one of the scariest experiences I've ever had. I knew I was lost but had no idea which direction to even look in. All I knew was that I needed change...and I needed it desperately. Fast forward to now. Now, I look at my life and realize how much of an impact change can have on a person. Each day we have different experiences that change us. Today, I woke up a slightly different person than yesterday; tomorrow, I will be a slightly different person than today.

------

As I sit here typing this, I am aware that a big change is about to come. I've heard mixed things about both Thailand and Cambodia--great food, amazing beaches, elephant trekking (ahhh!), ancient ruins, extreme poverty, heartbreaking sights, food poisoning, and the list goes on. I try not to absorb everything I hear, because traveling to these places can and will have a different impace on everyone. But, what I do know is that when I come back from the trip, I will be a different person. I can't tell you how or in what ways these changes will occur, but with any trip to somewhere new--all the excitement mixed with challenges--a person is bound to come back just a little different.  For example, after my first trip to S. Korea, even though it was only a month, numerous people said that I had changed. They didn't know how to explain or what details to provide, but they knew something was different.  And, though this trip will only be two weeks, I know I'll be doing and seeing things that I could never have even imagined. So, it's strange for me to sit here right now and think that I will never again be the exact same person that I am in this moment.  The next time I update my blog, I will be writing with newly broadened eyes and mind, thus changing my perspective.

---------
Though I'm extremely nervous about my trip and have no idea what to expect, I hope for one thing: that I take in every sight, every smell, every sound, and every emotion that I experience.  I know I'll see some of the best and worst things I've ever seen, but I am also aware that having these types of experiences (ones that have enough impact to change you) is what makes life more "full". And, what more can a person want than a full life?

So, I say goodbye to you now as the woman I am at this very moment, and I look forward to speaking to you again as a woman who, tomorrow, will be different. :)

Having fun with some of the children at Soryang Orphanage.

Art time at Soryang Orphanage.

Friends, coffee, art, and laughs!

My Korean-style cellphone case.

Loving city life.

Yes, that's Tom Cruise. Yes, I met him/talked to him. He was in Busan promoting his new movie. Strange things happen in Korea.

New Year, New _____.

2012 December 31 (midnight)

When the clock struck 12, I was running down a street in Haeundae (a beautiful beach area of Busan, South Korea) with one of my best friends (Tonya), releasing balloons that held our "wishes" for the new year. * My wish:  health and happiness for my friends, family, and myself. *  

We were on our way to meet some of our friends to celebrate a wonderful previous year, and to cheers to a new year. But wait, allow me to re-wind this story since you've missed a lot of what happened before this fabulous moment...


2012 December 23

It's 12:15pm and I'm hangry (hungry + angry = hangry, a typical occurrence when you haven't had coffee or food). For once in my life, I'm on time. I'm meeting Tonya at the subway station so we can walk together to meet Fran for lunch at one of my favorite Western-style sandwich cafes.  Tonya misunderstood our meeting time, so she thought we were meeting at 12:30. As we all know, being hangry mixed with waiting (one of my dislikes--I'm usually late because I don't like to wait).  "I'm going to punch you." "I'm throwing your clothes in the garbage." "I'm sending a hit man." Only a few of the lovingly joking messages I send Tonya while waiting.  While waiting, my mind starts to wander....

Yesterday was an amazing day.  I got up early to visit an orphanage that one of my friends told me about. I was unsure as to whether or not this was a good idea because that night was going to be our "Ugly Christmas Sweater Party".  Of course, sleeping in and relaxing before the party would be nice, selfish of course, but nice.  However, once my heart is attached to something, it's impossible to separate it.  So, when I heard that many of the children at the orphanage are students of my friend's school, my heart made an immediate attachment. And, as it would turn out, I'm glad it did, because visiting the orphanage was a life-changing experience.  

It's easy to get too comfortable in Korea--to take things for granted because we are literally  living the dream.  I make more money than I did in the States, have no rent, only teach 4 classes per day, live in one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen, and get to travel to many places for super cheap. Uh, could it be any better?  But, it's also easy to lose sight of the things you love, to forget where your passions lie.  This definitely happened to me. I got so distracted with the lack of responsibility and abundance of free time I have, that I lost sight of the interests and activities that set my mind, heart, and soul afire. 

The trip to the orphanage not only helped the children, but it helped me as well.  Painting little girls' nails and then letting them paint mine, watching the smiles and laughs, seeing their faces light up when Santa walked in with loads of presents wrapped in mutli-colored paper--uh, now THAT is what living really is.  It woke me up.  It brought me true, genuine happiness to see these amazing little people happy.  There was one girl in particular that was somewhat standoffish when I met her. My friend, her teacher, said she was one of the smartest in her class but she was refusing to talk to him or speak English to anyone. She also "booed" Santa which put a damper on the other kids' excitement.  So, I bent down and started talking to her, finding topics maybe she would like, giving her an opportunity to use some of the English she knows. It worked.  Thirty minutes later, she was covering my hands with stickers, giggling, and telling me what each sticker picture was in English.  She even lit up when I urged her to go get her picture taken with Santa.  First she refused, but after some encouragement, a large, humble smile slowly took over her entire face.

 Later that day, we were doing crafts--painting Christmas ornaments.  Yes, all of us were covered in paint, but it was great!  While painting, I attempted to write my name in Hangul (Korean alphabet).  I messed up, of course, but didn't think anything of it.  A few minutes later, the little girl turned her ornament towards me and said "Tiffany."  She had made a new Christmas ornament and written my name in Hangul on it.  -------- Here I am, sitting outside in the cold, with a little girl who doesn't have parents to tell her they love her, no parents to make her hot chocolate when it's cold, no parents to tell her everything will be ok when she doesn't think it will be, and SHE is doing something kind for me.  She wasn't doing it to get recognition or get a reward, she was doing it because it would make me feel better, because she knew I had messed mine up.  She was putting others before herself, despite her situation. THIS was a wake-up call.  

Spending time with these amazing children reminded me of things that inspire me, things that I really enjoy--writing, teaching, helping others, etc.  For example, I became a teacher because I love children and love using what I know and can do to help them. Seeing them gain understanding and knowledge is rewarding to me.  Watching my students succeed, move on to bigger and better things, and accomplish goals they've set is exciting for me.  I'll never forget the moment when I gave my 11th grade American Lit students one of their final exams.  They were to watch a movie (Wall-E) and explain why I showed them the movie--how it connected to themes, characters, etc in Fahrenheit 451, a book we read as a class.  Though some thought I was crazy because it's wasn't a "normal" test, the result was great!  The students impressed me with their mature writing, analysis, and understand of the concepts I really wanted them to grasp.  Though they may not know it, this was one of my favorite moments of teaching!  

Sometimes we forget about the interests that make us truly happy because aren't doing them.  Once we start doing them again, we're reminded of how much passion we feel, how much fulfillment we get, and how much of a better version of ourselves we can be when we are doing what we love.  I owe it to myself and others to do what I love each and every day.

... Oh the things my mind can analyze while having time to itself. Anyways, I was lucky enough to share all these thoughts with Tonya, Fran, and Katie when we met later.  It's nice having friends who you can share your many thoughts with. :)

Our delicious lunch was followed by a trip to Costco.  Yes, Korea has a Costco. We wanted to buy a bunch of food so we could spend Christmas Eve together, vegging out, then wake up late and have a big brunch together on Christmas.  That plan sounded great!!!!  However, the things with "plans" is that they sometimes don't work out...

Case in point:  that night, I was sitting at my computer desk and started feeling weird.  I decided to go to bed early because of this.  Once in bed, I realized I had a fever--hot/cold, blurry mind, the works.  Then, nausea followed.  Next thing I know, vomiting and diarrhea (yes, I just said "diarrhea" on my blog) started and continued every 10-15 minutes alllllllllllllllll night and morning.  At about 10:30am (Christmas Eve), my co-teacher came and picked me up and took me to the hospital. At this point, I hadn't slept or drank water at all, only puking and, well, you know.  Even while waiting for the doctor, I had to run to the bathroom to puke. Ugggghhhh.  After seeing the doctor, he ruled it as food poisoning (I had already guessed--from a samgipsal, meat, dinner I had Saturday night).  He prescribed some meds and suggested I get an IV because I was dehydrated.  So, I spent my Christmas Eve with my first IV (painful, not my favorite thing in the world), by myself, in a foreign country.  After the 2 1/2 hour IV, I tried to get up but almost passed out.  Of course, I don't speak Korean so couldn't call for help.  After a while of panic and discomfort, I pulled myself up, went down to get the meds, and took a taxi home.  Needless to say, I spent Christmas Eve, Christmas alone, and a few days to follow in my apartment, only able to consume hot water, watching a mix of good Christmas movies and repeating Lords of the Rings movies on TV.  Not what I had planned.  


2012 December 31 (9pm) - 2013 January 1 

Fast forward to New Years Eve.  Due to my just recently acquired ability to consume solid food, I decided to take it easy on New Years Eve. Tonya, who has been sick for weeks, concurred.  So, Tonya, Ellaine, and I met for a delicious dinner at a chic restaurant in Haeundae. First, a simple brushetta and cocktail.  My cocktail: a basil margarita.  Next, entrees, mine a set of chicken and vegetable skewers paired with another cocktail:  orange, cucumber, strawberry, lime, and basil w/ gin.  Light but delicious.  

At first, we had planned to go home early, but we decided to go meet our friends at Wolfhound before we left.  We headed over there, releasing our wishful balloons along the way.  Once there, we were greeted with screams, claps, and warm hugs from some of the best people to ever exist.  How could we not stay now!?!  Unexpectedly, Tonya and I stayed at Wolfhound and danced with our friends until 4am, sober!  I must say, this was one of, if not THE, best New Years celebrations I've ever had.  Dancing like crazy with people I love was absolute perfection!   Follow that by grabbing KFC, heading to my house, eating it while we watch some Avatar, bed, then a jijimbang in the morning (Korean spa where basically a bunch of naked people sit in giant pools of all temperatures together then scrub each other down--sounds scary but is amazingly clean and relaxing...will explain in a future post).  BEST NEW YEARS! 

Now 2013 January 10

So, this new year, I am not going to make "resolutions" that I won't be able to keep or that have the depth of the kiddie pool.  Instead, I'm going to make it my daily goal to live life to the fullest, doing things I love every day.  When I do things I love, I feel happier; I feel more like me, the better version of myself. And, when I'm a happier me, I'm able to be better to the people around me--kinder, more understanding, etc etc.  It's like an interesting cycle, how my internal passion and happiness can effect a lot of other people even when I don't realize it. So, if I'm really living my life, it will be more fulfilling for myself and others.  Simple but powerful. 

So, people I love, I hope that you have a healthy and happy year.  And please, DON'T forget about the things you love to do, the things that make you happy--not a temporary happy, but a truly fulfilled happiness.  THOSE are the things you should be doing every day, even if you only have a little bit of free time; fill those extra little moments with the things and people that set your heart on fire!!! :)

Help!

New Years!

Busan Aquarium

Nail-Painting Time!

presents!

At the orphanage

SHARK!!!

First snow in Busan!!!(it is RARE to see snow here)