Writer's Block.

I find it increasingly difficult to come up with new things to comment on as I draw closer to the end of my first contract. Attempting to chronicle this entire adventure has never seemed so foolish as it does this week. I guess I have just gotten comfortable. I have finally reached the point where I have difficulty determining what is strange or unbelievable and what is just a normal day.

I decided long ago that I would never be the one sitting out while there was adventure happening all around me. But now I'm finding it hard to figure out what is adventure and what is just another tuesday.

One drunk supporting another home? Is that unusual or normal? Can I recall seeing that happen at 10am back home?

Being presented with squid jerky or fried bugs or cereal whenever I sit down in a restaurant or bar- typical? They put those on the tables at home, right? Yeah. Yeah, they definitely do. What else would I snack on while waiting for my food to arrive...

Dodging the trash guard so I don't have to stand there wondering what judgements he's making based on the quality of my trash sorting attempt. Everyone dodges their trash guards, don't they?

Picking random food items off a menu in Korean with no pictures by sounding things out and trying to remember what makes that particular group of sounds familiar to me. Hey, food's food, right?

Hopping a bus to some town that I may have mispronounced without a thought of how long it's going to take or where I will stay once I arrive. That's not a tuesday, though, that's just a typical weekend.

Walking right past a chair to sit on the floor. I know I didn't use to do that... I'm not sure I even see chairs anymore.

Which brings me to another train: what about these things that I have adapted to since my arrival? What about the gestures I make and the phrases I use to get me out of potentially offensive social snafus? What strange habits have I picked up that will have the opposite effect back home?

With greater frequency, I find that I can't remember what I was like when I left. I can't remember what I said or thought or how I used to communicate with other humans. Will I return home and be the next ivleague in terms of social awkwardness? Will I be the one that people look at with a forced smile while silently trying to determine what in my life has shaped me into this person who probably should not be allowed to sit in the same room as the other good humans? Was she not properly socialized as a child? Was she home-schooled? Raised by wolves?

In Korea, I know why people give me those strange looks as I try to make myself understood. They wonder what I'm trying to say as I butcher their beautiful- but complicated- language while mixing up the gestures I think I might have seen people use one time or another in that one city somewhere else in Korea where I spent the weekend once upon a time... Maybe it wasn't in Korea. But it was definitely in Asia. Or did I bring that with me from America...? Wait. Picked it up in Europe...? Or was it Belize...?

I'm starting to wonder what habits I have that are just purely American. How can I reclaim my inner American when it comes time to journey back home and rejoin society?

I find comfort when recalling that social awkwardness is not new for me. Possibly I have always been socially inept. Actually, most probably I was.

"People often confuse me with someone really intellectual and pensive, but usually I'm just sitting there cause I don't know what to say or I've tuned them out."

Brian Alvarez: "That's great. People assume you're intelligent when really it's just your own brand of social awkwardness."
April 2009

Snow Globe.

I knew before I signed up for this thing, that life would keep turning for everyone else while I went gallivanting off into the unknown. I knew that lives would be lived and stories written while I was here avoiding the real world. I knew that there were things I could/should be doing and people who would miss me if I left. I knew this stuff. I did. But I did it anyway. I moved to the other side of the world and removed myself from all of those things.

There are so few moments during this adventure where I am reminded that a pause button was not pressed the second I jumped on that first plane. That the world continues turning for everyone else, too, even though I'm not there. I am surprised by the revelation every time. Usually I can convince myself that things will be just exactly as I left them 10 months ago. People will be there, working the same jobs, telling the same stories, laughing at the same things. I will be different, but I'll be the only one. Everything else has been contained in some crazy snow globe-esque environment. Things change superficially every time you touch it, but not the big stuff. That all stays rooted to the spot. And without you, the snow doesn't even move.

Then something happens at home that you can't control. You're so far away you can't even touch it. And all you can do is offer a word or two by way of moral support and give thoughts and prayers.

You've separated yourself from all that. The world keeps spinning. That's not just a Korea thing.

All I Wanted Was a Korean Tutor.

I've been told that my Korean lessons with Ruby are starting tomorrow. I can't believe I'm going to try this again, but the plan is to show up an hour before work and see if Ruby holds up her end of the bargain.

I just want to learn Korean. Why is this so complicated? So many people here already speak it...

This Place Is So Conservative About Some Things...

But their drinking is just so completely out of control. I have seen men in business suits carry eachother down the streets and ajummas staggering home at 11am. I have seen children running around bars and grown men passed out on the side walk with no shoes and one sock hanging half way off. I have seen people break glasses and men spill drinks on their business partners. I have seen what would otherwise appear to be a normal socially acceptable couple pound back a few too many shots and support eachother home

I witnessed some kind of dispute outside our friendly neighborhood 7-11 tonight, and though I can't be sure what was ultimately happening, I do know that someone called the cops.

I don't know what's so authoritative about a man who only has a mini maglight and reflective vest to protect himself, but the drunks in general seem to follow them wherever they lead. Two police officers showed up, one hopped out of the car and the other just drove away. The one unarmed officer just casually escorted the staggering man back into the Sev.

And the world continues turning here in Korea.