The past week in Korea has been a blur of goodbyes.  I’ve managed to visit all of the most important places and say farewell to the most important people.  I’ve had lots of meals, lots of visits, and lots of train trips.  I swear, I keep Korail in business some weekends. I think Korail will miss me most.

People often ask me if religion brings me back to the orphanage in Gimcheon, but really, *I* bring myself back to the orphanage because I committed to volunteering at children’s crisis nurseries, group homes, shelters, and orphanages when I was 18. I cooked my first solo Thanksgiving dinner at a crisis shelter in Flagstaff when I was 19, which featured only breasts a lot of turkey and limited side dishes, since people donated only birds. I went twice a week to a small shelter in my 20s and my office partner and I decided one year to sponsor their entire Christmas. We bought “appropriate” gifts and took too many illegal pictures, but we both said it was the best thing we did that year. (Of course, she also reunited with her ex-BF/future husband on Christmas Eve Mass…)  Anyhow, I have always felt compelled to spend time with displaced kids, and it has nothing to do with my religion or my orphan status. It’s just me (and probably hugely contributed to my parents who did foster care when I was a teen).

So, I went to hold babies and braid the hair of little girls and feed everyone kimbap. I watched the babies dance along to a video and play with balloons and my two favorite babies told me everyone’s names and sat on my lap.  Only one peed on me. The babies did take me down, literally, before I left, after a giant baby bit me on the ankle and then the mob of babies attacked me for some last-minute lap time. The Baby Bang (room) is still King of the Hill lap war. My Baby Badass always wins =) I can’t explain the sense of melancholy I felt when leaving the babies for the last time.  I will never see them grow up. I will never see the smiles of the girls at Grace Jeep (house) when they recognize me and notice that I, yet again, have changed my hair. I won’t fold laundry with the house uhmma again or let her feed me Asian pears on a tiny fork. The last time to say goodbye in Korea has been harder than I thought it would be. And again, I am reminded how fortunate I am  to own the life that was gifted to me by happenstance.

I also went back to my very favorite place in Korea: Haeundae Beach. I took a cab, to a train, to the subway and then met my host, Sohee, who is quite pregnant.  We had a lovely goodbye lunch and again, I felt so overwhelmed realizing I would never hold her baby, and likely would never see her again.  I watched the waves roll gently into the sand and collected a bunch of broken seashell shards.  I tanned my legs and dug my toes into the cool sand.  I missed my dad.  I then took the subway to the lightrail to the bus to Inje campus, where I had a nice kimchi jjigae  dinner with Jihye, Eun Hye and Professor Cho. We said “See you later!” but we all knew: it might be goodbye forever. I also will never hold Jihye’s baby, due in December. Strange that my world is so completely divided… that ocean really gets in the way of my relationships.

And my students… in such a short time, it seems so strange that I have become attached to people with whom I was designed to have a transient relationship. They are meant to flow in and then leave my life, and I was placed here to leave theirs. I’m not sure I’ve left any concrete lasting impression upon them, but I know they have taught me so much about the boundaries of my own patience and about how the future can change in dramatic ways. I think I learned Korean culture through Korean students, both at Inje and at Hannam… maybe my perspective is flawed… but I hope this generation of young people choose to change the social climate in Korea.  I hope I taught them that they can be empowered to create change, even if it might require more force than their polite manners permit.

Anyhow, no goodbye is complete without a lot of nore at the norebang (singing at the song room = private room karaoke). AND soju. Lots of soju. I’ve decided whenever I land somewhere, I’ll need to create my own norebang in my home. And I’ll need to find Korean students who are required to sing for their elder sister. =P My students will always belong to me, in my memory, and I hope they will not forget me too soon.

Tomorrow, I leave Daejeon for good. I leave this disgusting tiny apartment where I can hear students breaking up and getting drunk and the chicken delivery scooter show up at the same time every night. I’ll leave in this room conversations where I fell in love over the phone, where I listened to my dad’s voicemails over and over, where I learned how to create curriculum via google search.

Maybe, in this room, I leave Ginger in Korea…

Or maybe, she comes home with me… a new Ginger… in a new world… in Meeguk.

 

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