That didn't last long!

http://geromesworld.blogspot.com/


My new blog address. I'm safe but maybe not so sound. I think that's probably a good thing. See you there maybe!

All good things

I'm heading back to Portland in seven days and I think this will be my last blog entry for this particular blog. I've learned to know when something is over and this blog has run it's course. I have no doubt however that when I move overseas again I will be starting up a new blog with another inventive title. This blog has helped me get through some extremely rough times and it has also helped me to feel connected to people I care about deeply. I don't edit my blogs and I don't edit myself so what is presented to you is what is going on in my head at that particular moment in time. After talking with a friend a few days ago who had a question about a past blog I realized I have never gone back and read any of the blogs I've written. For me, it just feels good to get my thoughts and feelings out into the physical world. I can't imagine what it must be like to be unable to express yourself in some capacity. That sounds like hell to me.

As I'm preparing to leave the ROK I am thinking about the most important things I've learned since being here. I've boiled them down to ten things and I'd like to share them with you now.


10. It's uncomfortable to have a steam filled room full of Korean men stare at your penis. It's even more uncomfortable when some of those men move closer to you for a better look.


9. When visiting North Korea don't stare at the North Korean soldiers for more than three seconds...they don't like that. Also, when visiting North Korea be prepared to make a "donation" so as not to have your passport stamped.


8. Kimchi is best when it is in the "in between" stages of fermentation. Old Kimchi is nasty. New Kimchi doesn't have enough zing. In between Kimchi is perfect!


7. South African women can and will drink you under the table given half the chance to do so.



6. People will tell you the most intimate details of their lives if they trust that you are listening to them.



5. Friends are worth more than any amount of currency on the planet.



4. I have more to contribute to the world than I thought I did. I think I have finally found my voice and I'm excited to have the opportunity to use it.


3. Hugs are wonderful and cleansing. Hugs are healing and one of the quickest ways of connecting with another human being. I am a great hugger.


2. Let it go. Let it all go. In the end it's not nearly as important as you think it is. Trust your inner voice and that feeling you get in your stomach.


1. If you can't be honest with yourself you will never be honest with anyone else around you. The truth really does set you free. So don't be afraid to admit when you have made a mistake and don't be afraid to stick to what you hold most important.



Done.

Skype me. Email me. Call me. Facebook me.


cdubsla@yahoo.com geromeshanklin@yahoo.com no phone number yet...sorry.

I need a blonde one or else the parents won't send their kids here.

Less than two weeks! Saying good-bye can be difficult but I'm ready to go home. I'm ready to return to the U.S. for a while. Lately I have felt stuck in time and therefore have not wanted to blog. The eclipse was today and the light which was created from it was pretty amazing. It changed the color of everything. Speaking of color changing, a friend of mine told me a story the other day about something her Korean boss asked her to do. She works at a Hogwan outside of Seoul, she used to work at my workplace but she quit after three months because it wasn't what she was expecting. Turns out the job she went to after wasn't what she was expecting either. She has a master's in education and I think she came to Korea expecting something else than what she found when it comes to the educational system here. So what did her boss ask her to do? Nothing sexual, but before I tell you it's important that you know she's a blue eyed, blond hair white girl from Ohio. Why is this important? I'm getting to that. Her boss dropped off a stack of resumes at her desk and asked her to go through the applicants. He told her to throw away the ones with black people.

Now, I can hear you thinking. How the hell would she know if the person applying for a job was black or not? Would she go through the names and guess. "Shaniquwa Jones", "eliminated!" "Tyrone Jackson", "I don't' think so Mr. Jackson, not in my school!" No, she wasn't expected to look at names and guess because in Korea, you have to submit a picture of yourself along with your resume and qualifications. Everybody who has worked in Korea already knows that Koreans doing the hiring want to know if you are black or white. Unless you are in some serious denial about how things work here, every foreign teacher knows this is the reason why you submit pictures. Pictures are required. It's bullshit actually and totally discriminatory. That said, if the United States could get away with it I have suspicions they would do the same thing.

So my friend Missy was asked by her boss to go through the resumes and just look at the pictures and throw out the ones with dark faces. He said and I quote "I need a blond one or else parents won't keep sending their kids here." I'll take a moment while you get your "what the fucks" out of the way. Korea is an interesting place to be a foreigner. White skin is king in this land. The darker you are the lower you are. Does every Korean feel this way? No. Do a lot of Koreans feel this way? Yes. And in a land that has as many people as Korea has in such a small space, these beliefs can get thick.

The Korean working environment is openly racist at times and I can appreciate that. I'll say it again, I can appreciate that. It comes from ignorance, fear and an unwillingness to step outside ones comfort zone but I appreciate the openness of it. It turns my stomach of course and if I had hair I'm sure I'd want to pull it out but I am one who appreciates honesty. Those of you who know me know that I am a huge fan of honesty. If this happened more openly in the states people would lose money left and right. Why? Because there is no way I'm going to give my money knowing to a business that is bigoted and racist.

Back to my friend Missy. After her boss asked her to do this she told him she was uncomfortable with the assignment. He asked her why. He seriously did not understand what the problem was. And there in lies the problem. He honestly didn't see that there was anything wrong with what he was doing and what he had asked her to do. Now, I don't know how many of you out there have taught in Korea or had friends who taught in Korea but it is not all shits and giggles here. It has been an amazing and frustrating experience for me. As with any place I've been treated poorly and with kindness. But don't get it twisted, my experience as a black person is not the same as a white person, just like my experience as a male in Korea would not be the same as a female.

If you ignore the American army there just are not that many black people in this country. It's like I'm back in my liberal arts college again. We are few and far between. So, I have gone out with groups of friends and been the only black face around. One of the most interesting experiences happened a couple of months ago and I don't think I ever wrote about it. I was meeting some friends for late dinner in Ilsan which is a city near my workplace. When I arrived one of my guy friends was pissed off and another friend of mine was sitting on a bench crying. Everyone else just looked annoyed and frustrated. When I asked them what happened they told me this story. Keep in mind that everyone in the group was a white Canadian, South African or American.

They showed up at this Korean restaurant to have drinks and eat some food. There were six people and they were seated right away. After sitting down for five minutes with no service a man came up to them and asked them to leave. He said in broken English that the place was closing. They looked around and saw other Korean people eating. Never mind the fact that Korean restaurants stay open late as hell. Anyways, the group got up and walked outside. I was still on my way to meet them at this point. Now, while they were waiting for me they watched several Koreans in a period of ten minutes walk into the restaurant sit down and start eating and drinking. I guess they have never experienced discrimination on this level and they were all thrown off. When I arrived and they told me the story I think they were waiting for a reaction that never came. Of course I felt frustrated but I wasn't surprised. I realize this next statement might prevent me from being appointed to the supreme court one day but I think growing up black gives you a special insight to the way the world works. I said it! Senator, I did not mean to imply that black people are better than other people and I'm sorry if you took it that way.

Side note: Am I the only one that finds it ironic that the dudes grilling nominee Sotomayor about her views on race and decision making are some of the most bigoted dudes in the Republican Party? Senator Sessions straight up does not like people of color. Dudes history is full of comments and writings to prove that. But he kept trying to come back to the "wise Latina" comment. We all sit there and pretend like these questions coming from these men are appropriate. I've been able to watch and read some of the comments they have made and it stinks of racism, sexism and just plain ignorance, but I guess that's politics folks. Anyways, got off topic, just needed to vent about that a little bit. Back to my white friends getting kicked out of a restaurant...

I could sympathize with them but I didn't' have the same outrage that they felt. I think I've been desensitized to that kind of shit. But one thing I didn't do was the classic response people who can't really relate have. I didn't say "yeah but..."
I fucking hate the "yeah, but" response. I've never understood why it's so hard for some people to admit that sometimes a duck is a freaking duck. They always wanna make an excuse for the inexcusable. "Yeah but maybe he shot you because your wallet looked like a gun in your pocket." "Maybe you shouldn't have been carrying your wallet on you."

I can't wait for the days when we can just hate people for being assholes. Race, religion, political affiliation, sex, socio-economic status, size, orientation, etc. these things should not matter any more. Sometimes I think if humans were born with no eyes and no voice we would learn to hate each other over different smells. I hope we are better than that. Some days...I'm just not sure.

The death of 80GB's

My ipod stopped working. Just like that, out of the blue, my little, black, square friend has died. Perhaps to say "just like that" is....well, is a lie. Recently the rainy season started here which means that that rain comes from all angles at any time of the day. Take this weekend for instance, the rain started early Saturday morning and stopped about half an hour ago. It's Monday morning here in Korea at the moment. Anyways, back to my ipod, it is dead and I am sad. Perfect timing of course, I'm about to travel around a bit and portable music would have been greatly appreciated. So, how is the death of this black rectangle not really out of the blue? Well, it might even be my fault, kind of.

I was teaching university students last week and the rain came a calling. To call it rain is actually an understatement, imagine falling into a body of water with pockets of air in it and that's pretty much what I experiencing. My ipod was in my pocket and it got a little bit wet since the water soaked through my dress pants and soaked me to the bones. After the rain subsided, I took out my ipod to see what the damage was and that familiar glow lit up when I hit play. No harm no foul right? Wrong. I became Mr. Butterfingers and proceeded to accidentally drop my ipod. As it feel from my hands I could see the world in slow motion. I quickly reached out in a futile attempt to grab it before it hit the ground. Even though I'm 33 I still have quick reflexes so I did manage to make contact with my ipod...unfortunately I clumsily knocked it higher into the air, above my head, which only gave me more time to watch it fall back to earth. It hit the ground extremely hard, but luck for me the blow was cushioned some by the very deep puddle of water that had formed due to the perfect storm I was just caught in. To add insult to injury, the splash my ipod made as it took a swan into the abyss, was so powerful a drop of puddle water made it all the way into my mouth, which of course was open.

So not only did I have to witness the death of my ipod, I will probably catch some strange water-born disease that 1 in 100,000,000 people get because it only comes from being exposed to Korean rain water that has been mixed with brick and ipod matter.

Of course, complaining about ipod dying when there are thousands of displaced Chinese due to a recent earthquake is kind of silly. Being annoyed that I won't have portable sounds for a while when people are losing their homes, their jobs and their souls is absurd...right? But damn I miss my music!

I love Portland in the summer.

I have under a month left in this country known as the Republic of Korea. I feel like I'm going through the motions. In my head I'm already back in Portland so allow me to invite you into my head for a brief visit.

Chris's thoughts: Portland Week One:

August 3rd: Arrive into PDX, wait for a few hours until Alex realizes today was the day he is supposed to pick me up. After he finishes his dinner and pours himself another glass of wine he puts on his shoes and looks for his car keys. Anya yells at him in the background while he's searching. The doorbell rings. Toby and I are at the door. Toby was my back-up because everybody knows Alex cannot be trusted. Anya let's us both in and offers us something to drink. Anya and I exchange hugs. Alex searches his mental vault of lies for a suitable one but it's too late. I punch him in his ugly face and kick him square in the balls. I feel better. Toby laughs while drinking his beer. Alex falls to the ground in pain. I will sleep good tonight. I email some people back in Korea to let them know I made it back alive. I have a glass of wine with my friends.

August 4th: I wake up confused as to where I am. I look out the window, not a Korean in site. I must be home. I force Alex to make me breakfast, which is more like lunch do to the time. I flirt with Anya over a sandwich and try to convince her to leave Alex. After I finish my meal I get into my car and prepare to visit some old friends. My car won't start. The battery is dead, which is fine because I have a flat tire. Alex fucked my car up and Toby didn't have a chance to fix it yet. I walk back into the house and punch Alex in his ugly face again. This time I don't kick him in the balls, he's my friend after all. I call Monica to see if she's home. She is. I left all my crap in her garage because she my friend and one of the most dependable people I know. She's a great friend and an even better human being. Alex drops me off at her place later in the day. We catch up. We play cribbage. I beat her 5 games to nothing. She has not gotten better since I've been away. I separate things that I'm giving away and getting rid of and the things I want to keep. I'm not keeping much. My taste has changed. I don't need the things I used to. I'm glad to be home. We make plans for later in the week. I think about calling Teresa but Teresa said she doesn't want to deal with me until I've been home for a week. I send her a mean email later tonight. I call Juniper. I'm subletting her place for the next month and a half or so. I'm tired. We talk and we make plans to go over rental arrangements tomorrow and have dinner. I love her. We are similar in annoying ways. Perhaps she's my sister from another life time? I sleep at Al's house one more night. Toby stops by. We drink beer, we make plans for the weekend. We wait for Alex to leave the room. We make plans to kill Alex one day, Anya is in the room when we make these plans. She doesn't say anything.

August 5th: Wake up. Excited. I have a date with an angel this morning. Luna will be giving me a massage at 10:30. I've been waiting for her magic touch almost two years. She is the best. A mixture of Goddess and masseuse. Her touch heals my aching soul along with my aching muscles. I make plans to have another massage three weeks later. She's a good soul. I get a salad at my favourite salad place. I send Teresa another mean email. "Maybe you won't see me at all while I'm back then" I press send and then smile. Teresa's great and I'm excited to see her but I'll wait her required week. She will get at least one sarcastic mean email from me every six hours however. I send some more emails to Korea. My car is fixed. I can drive. I forgot how but that doesn't stop me. Perhaps I should get insurance? Maybe later. I go to the gym. I buy a membership. Things are looking up. I move what's left of my stuff from Monica's garage into Juniper's place. I play cribbage with Juniper. Unlike Monica, she is good at the game. She beats me, but barely. I curse her name under my breath. I'm tired. I look for a new cell phone. I'm not sure how long I'll stay in the U.S. so I decide to get cricket. I pay by the month. I hate cell phones but they sure are handy. I call Alex, when he answers I hang up. My phone works. I'm tired. I go to bed at Juniper's which is for the time being my place.

August 6th: I'm awoken to the sounds of hippy chit chat. Juniper's friends have stopped by looking for her. They offer me tea. I don't drink tea. I say thank you. Juniper and I have plans to eat dinner. It will be healthy and full of nuts and beans I'm sure. I won't lose to her in cribbage again! I drive my car illegally all over Portland. I'm wasting gas and I don't care. I make a mental note of what has changed and what has stayed the same. I have to go to the Gorge sometime soon. I miss the sound of its silence. I miss its smell. I get back home. I need to buy food. I email a quick insult to Teresa. I call Monica. We talk. I call Alex and hang up on him again. He doesn't have my number yet. I won't give it to him for at least another week. I eat a very healthy meal with Juniper. I'm tired. I go to sleep.

August 7th: Awwww shit it's Friday! I'm too old to think like that but I don't have a job and it is Friday. I go to the gym. I get another salad. I think about what kind of job I want to have. I think about how long I'll stay. I have to buy tickets to Michigan for September. I have to buy tickets to L.A. after that. I take a deep breath. I've got time. "Enjoy the ride Chris" I think to myself. Teresa is supposed to take me out to sushi. I buy the alcohol and she buys the raw fish. I don't want to wait til next week for sushi. Korean sushi is not good. I send Teresa another email. This time it's nice. I present different reasons why it's a good idea for us to have sushi tonight. I'll wait and see. I stop by Monica's house to play cribbage and shoot the shit. I stop by Toby's apartment to hang out. He's still dirty. He doesn't know how to clean up after himself. I remember the mouse the used to live in our house when we lived together. I wonder which one of us will actually kill Alex. We'll have to draw straws for the honor. Alex is demanding money from me for keeping my car at his place so I drive over there and bring him a check. It's for one dollar. It say "fuck you" in the subject line. I drop it in his mail box and leave. I check my email Teresa has plans tonight, she's a woman of her word. I guess I'm waiting til next week for sushi. Juniper's busy tonight. She's very popular. Monica has plans with her friends. Toby is Toby and Alex wants me to leave the country again. I've been back for five days and I'm alone on a Friday night. I've got other friends to call but I don't. I've got time. I take a long walk up to Mt. Tabor Park. It's getting dark. I walk to the top and look down on the city. I love Portland in the summer!

Part VIII.

Where had the time gone? Had he really been living in Korea so long? Those winds of change that brought him here were blowing again and he knew it was time to prepare to leave. He was ready to leave. Korea had done what it was supposed to do. It had taught him. The lessons were many and the education gained was priceless. There was more to do but not here. It was time to move on. He had established new relationships with people he would never forget. He had begun a new relationship with himself in the process. The person in the mirror seemed a little older and a little wiser. There was still so much to learn. There were still so many places he wanted to visit. So many people to meet. He had learned that people, human beings were a treasure he could always discover no matter where his feet landed. He liked treasure.

He was not the man he once was. He was better. He knew he was better and this made him happy. He accepted his past and looked forward to the future. He recalled a quote he once heard. "Kill all my demons and my angels might die too." Balance. He had come to this country dangerously off balance and he was leaving with a sense of peace and a feeling of being centered.

He still had no idea what he wanted but he knew what he didn't want, and there was great power in that realization. This knowledge gave him great power and allowed him to heal. For the first time in a long time he looked forward to the unknown. He looked forward to seeing old friends. He looked forward to late night talks and the swapping of stories. He looked forward to seeing the growth people he cared for had gone through. He looked forward to giving his time and love. Mostly, he just looked forward...

Koreans in Black Face???? WTF!

How come people only seem to bring up religion when they are running for office, defending a position they are taking, condemning a group of people or asking for forgiveness from their peers? What's up with that? Just curious. Seems to be a lot of Jesus talk going around on television lately. I guess I forgot about the group of people who have to work Jesus into every part of a conversation they have with other people, regardless of the other peoples backgrounds or beliefs. Sometimes I think about how I must sound to an outsider and I wonder if I come off as anti-religious or something. I'm actually not. I don't have a problem with religions. I do sometimes have problems with religious people but other than that I'm cool with it. I do think religion can breed an unusually strong form of hypocrisy's from people and this is speaking as an insider. Don't forget I grew up Catholic. Went to the schools, attended the churches, was an alter boy, etc. My critique of Christian religion comes from a place of familiarity. But, I'm not interested in writing about religion at the moment so let me move on.

My final month in Korea has arrived and my patience has grown short. "Grown short?" What the hell does that mean. I just heard how that sounds, "grown short". Hmmmm. I turned on my television, which I have not done much of lately and I see five Korean women dressed up as natives from different parts of the world. Wait for it....one of these Korean women was in black face. I'll wait for you to soak that in.......

Take your time.....BLACK FACE! There was an audience and everyone was laughing. She had some strange wig on, her face was colored medium brown, and she had some kind of bone through her nose. It was straight out of a bugs bunny cartoon. I have no idea what these women were speaking because my Korean is still shit, but I can't imagine there is every a good reason for anyone to put black face on. I guess the Koreans never got that memo. This country is kind of stuck in time but black face? Really? I'm going to keep it real because that's what I do, I laughed my ass off when I saw it. Let me explain myself. I grew up with an older brother who had a similar sense of humor to mine. We laugh at the most inappropriate things. So when I saw this Korean women in black face I imagined what my brother's reaction would be to this and it made me laugh.

Today was hot and humid. I took a walk to the laundry mat to drop off some clothes and I came across a women pushing a stroller. Inside this stroller was a screaming baby. This stroller had one of those clear plastic bubble protectors around the entire thing. I slowed my roll when I got closer to the stroller because it did not look well ventilated at all. There was condensation forming on the inside of this contraption and the lady seemed oblivious to her child yelling. She was on the phone. I could not tell if she was coming or going but she wasn't paying attention to much. Her kid looked like it was baking alive. Normally I mind my own business (okay, sometimes I mind my own business) but this kid looked so miserable that I stopped, bent down and started waving at it. I say "it" because I have no idea what the sex of this kid was. So I bent down and started waving.

I knew this would get the attention of the mother. It's not every day she has a black man waving to her child. She bent down quickly, opened up the plastic jail cell and started moving her child's arms in a waving motion back at me. I've been in Korea long enough to know that Korean parents love to show their kids off and her reaction was exactly what I was hoping for. You could see the relief on this kids face in getting some fresh air. Since the mom didn't speak English and the Korean I knew for this kind of situation is limited to "Hello", "How are you", "That's so pretty" and "Good-bye", I continued to the laundry mat soon after.

I finally got my braces removed and my teeth are not yet used to being free. My tongue has a mind of it's own and wonders over the landscape of my teeth more often than I think is normal. It sometimes wakes me up at night. It's kind of creepy. My teeth are looking pretty damn good. I don't recognize my own mouth. I have always had issues with my teeth as a child. I never liked the spaces in them, even though I seem to be the only one that noticed or cared much. I had those braces in since I arrived in Korea and it was a wonderful feeling to have them removed. This whole Korean experience has been one long process of me moving on from the old and getting to know the new. Those braces represented the old and I was so happy when the dentist grinded the last traces of them off my mouth.

However....I don't know how to smile! I'm not shitting you. I have no idea how to smile. You see, for at least the last 25 years I have smiled without showing any teeth. My friends here are making fun of me because my new smile is awkward and probably kind of creepy! My face hurts. It's like I'm using muscles in my face I've never used before. I wish I was joking. It's like I woke up from a coma and I have to retrain my weak face muscles to function properly again. I've had a few people suggest that maybe I've just never had anything to smile about, but I think they just want to make out with me. But with teeth like this I wanna make out with me!

Don't read into this transition. I have recently been in touch with two really good people from my past from about a decade ago. I have not talked to either of these people for almost ten years. One is an ex. girlfriend and one was probably the fastest and shortest friendship I've ever had. The ex. randomly came up one day after a conversation I was having with an Australian teacher I work with. Turns out he travels in similar circles to her and we got in touch with each other. She was always a good person and I hope we can continue to talk back and forth actually. The second person is a lovely lady who I became instant friends with the moment we laid eyes on each other. It was the strangest thing ever. She was in touch for a weekend I believe and we instantly hit it off. She was great then and she seems great now. I am extremely excited about being able to reconnect with her and I'm looking forward to hanging out when I get back home because as luck would have it she doesn't live that far away from Portland.

It's so funny how things work sometimes. I'm always amazed at the paths we all walk. I won't say everything happens for a reason (although I'm sure I've said it before) but I will say things happen for a reason. I'm coming home soon and that feels good. I'm looking forward to the sushi dinners, the cribbage games, the late night chats, the walks, the dinner parties and all the rest that's coming my way this late summer. Hope to hear from all of you sooner than later.

Lie to me

Before I begin this little blog I would like to acknowledge the passing of a great musical talent Michael Jackson. The reaction on this side of the world has been intense. He really was a world phenomenon and he seems to have touched the lives of people all over this planet. Say what you will about some of his "choices" it takes a special person to impact every crevice of the planet earth. Although my blackness will not allow me to say anything negative about him (see Chappelle's Celebrity Trial Jury Selection Episode http://www.videovat.com/videos/929/dave-chapelle-jury-duty.aspx) I will say this, perhaps....perhaps it's never a good idea for a grown ass man to sleep in the same bed with young children that he is not related to and/or just met the other day. Rest In Peace M.J.

I found a quote a while ago that said something like "people lie with their words and with their silence." I think this quote is so relevant for the time and age that we live in. I want to begin by saying I know no person who has never told a lie. I think it's hard to go a day without telling some kind of untruth, however being a hypocrite and a liar is something completely different. My problem with politics and politicians has hit the spotlight lately with two high profile politicians recently "admitting" to extra marital affairs.

Cheating sucks. Cheating on your partner whom you are married to is even worse. Cheating on your partner whom you are married to while getting elected on a "family values" platform is bullshit. Politicians, in my opinion, are encouraged to lie to the public every time they have to make a speech about something. We don't really want to hear the truth. People want to pretend like the world is black and white and that's just not the case. Shits hard. Marriage is hard. Relationships are hard. Religion is confusing. Conflicting messages run rampant in most ideologies and yet these people continue to talk about absolutes.

Politicians are like sharks, they smell blood in the water and they attack. When Bill cheated on Hillary and then lied about it Washington came to a standstill and they wanted blood! Now look at how some of these same faces who were calling bloody murder find themselves on the other side of the gate. But...it's always different when it's happening to you. You had a really good reason for doing what you did. I believe that's the very definition of the fundamental attribution error.

Republican, Democrat, whatever, people are people and people fuck up all the time. I do mean, all the time. Celebrity, politician, rich, poor, black, white, no one can escape this fact. Hypocrisy runs thick in our political structure. But, we turn a blind eye and we listen to the speeches. We listen to the lies. Nobody has a monopoly on values. It is difficult to define culture and people should stop drawing these lines in the sand.

Shit happens and I think there is a growing movement among the masses to be told the truth. We want someone to be honest with us. Now, I'm about to say something that might piss some people off but it's got to be said. Obama is a politician! It's true, it's true. I promise you that he has told many lies thus far and we have many more in store for us. Unfortunately, you cannot hold the nations highest office and tell the truth. I think the office actually requires that you mislead people. Obama has most likely sold a piece of his soul on a daily basis. But I think it does not have to be that way. We have yet to find an individual who is brave enough, who is real enough to tell us the truth. If I squint my eyes and turn my head Obama will appear like this kind of person but it quickly disappears.

The world is ripe for a shift in consciousness, we just need that person who can remove the sword from the stone and lead us into the future.

Part VII.

He was trying. He was trying hard. Trying to become that which he knew he would one day be. He was hurting. He had his good days and his bad days. The problem was he could not tell them apart any more. He had lost his dog. He always wanted a dog but he had wanted to wait until he could take care of one properly. It seemed he was always waiting until the timing was right to do things. What if he spent his entire life waiting? He hadn't planned on owning a dog and he had not planned on that dog dying so quickly. Was the universe playing some sort of trick on him? He remembered those stories from his days in Catholic school. The stories from the bible involving plague, death, famine, murder, lies, etc. God always seemed to be testing people in the bible. He wasn't a big believer these days but a part of him thought some higher power might be fucking with him lately. On a particular day which did not seem particularly special he got into a taxi and headed for the nearest supermarket.

So far the day had been unremarkable and he zoned out as he tended to do on these rides. Life was moving along at a snails pace and he was forced to watch. Then, quite suddenly, someone had pushed the gas pedal. This ride he was taking to the supermarket, a ride he had taken hundreds of times before, just became interesting. It became interesting because he found himself in a mud filled ditch wondering what had just happened. Just like that color was brought back into his life. Like Dorthy stepping outside of her house after the tornado placed it down, he was awake. He was alive! He could feel the blood surging through his veins. He could feel the wind cooling his skin as he climbed out of the upturned vehicle. For a split second he even thought he understood Korean.

But it wasn't Korean the on lookers were speaking that he understood, it was the look of "what if". That look was universally understood. He could have died in a ditch just like that. He could have died without seeing or talking to the people whom he cared about most. He had been sleeping. He had been going through the motions. "Message received", he thought as he took in the cool air. He savored it as his lungs filled and then exhaled its contents. All of it was a gift! The pain, the hurt, the disappointment. It was all a gift and he had forgotten how lucky he was to be alive. He had woken up. He was in a ditch and surrounded by strangers, but he had finally woken up.

Teeth and things

I've had these things on the for almost the entire times I've lived in Korea and last week I finally got the bottom ones taken off. Yes, I'm talking about by braces. The bottoms are off and the top ones come off in about seven days. Needless to say I'm very excited about having my teeth back. My tongue won't stop exploring the new sensitive it gets every time it runs itself over my teeth. My very straight and white teeth! It's strange to see them now, they look naked. I got so used to having them sealed in tombs of plastic and metal I forgot how damn white they are. I think it's only fitting that in my last few weeks inside of this country I'm getting my teeth returned to me. It was a big deal for me (being as vain as I am) to get braces in the first place. I can't believe it's really been over a year and a half since I had them put on. I can't believe it's been over a year and a half since I set foot inside of this country. I don't' read my blogs once I write them, which probably accounts for all the spelling mistakes and grammar abominations.

I feel like I woke up since I've been here and it's such a strange sensation that can't really be put into words. I still have a wonderful memory and I can remember all the things that have happened to me and all the things I've done but some of those things feels like a life time ago. I don't feel like that person any more. I know that's not some new and deep concept but it's the truth. A small part of me is worried that I won't have a place to fit into when I go home. But then I know that's just ridiculous because I've got some great people in my life. This exchange rate is killing me because I'm going to have to send my money soon and I will lose. There's just no way around it. Some of my friends are telling me to just send a little bit and leave the rest here and wait for the exchange rate to go back up but I don't think that rate is going to go up for a long time. I don't think it's every going to break even again actually. But, these things happen and I have to take my lumps. I've become used to taking lumps here. In the end, it's just money. Not that money isn't great and important but it really is just money. I hope to have a lot of it one day but if I don't I think I'll be alright.

I'm returning home with less stuff then when I came here. I think I've already talked about this but I've come to the realization that I don't need as much shit as I thought I did. When I get home I'm going to go into the garage that I have my crap stored and really thin it out. I don't like having too many things. I've never been a collector and I don't' think I ever will be. A collector of things any ways. Portland garage sale, TBA.

I just found out that I've never had the chicken pox or measles. This could complicate some things if I plan on going to Vietnam I guess. How the hell did I not the chicken pox when I was little? I remember all my friends having those nasty looking bumps and I remember hanging out with them while they had it. This isn't the first time I've missed the infectious bullet. People always seem to catch shit and I somehow escape, knock on wood. I remember everyone got poison ivy and I didn't get so much as an itch. That said, I do tend to think I have everything in the book. Ball cancer, brain cancer, Ebola, etc.

It's been a while since I worked with the kids at my job and this past week was my last week working with them since I will be in the adult program for the remainder of my time here. So I think I'll end this random ass blog with a cop of a letter one of my students gave me on Friday. Her name was Ji Yun but I nicknamed her "sleepy" because she fell asleep her first day in class. As always I will type the letter out exactly as it was written to me. Sleepy's English was actually pretty good however.

Dear Chris,
I believe that you remember me, (unless you have a terrible memory, i guess.) "Sleepy", when I first came into the Village, I really was sleepy. But I promise that I did not fall to sleep! I heard that I look sleepy a lot in school, too, so I was pretty much disappointed when I heard it again. Ha, ha...

But I had a fun time because of you, since you joked to me. I was happy to have a lot of homeroom classes with you. You are kind and handsome...my first black face teacher too!! I really like the "Stop the bus" game. Remember when I asked you why you had no hair? You say your hair does not like you so it ran away. You are funny like Will Smith. Any way I had a good time here. I hope you like me, too. Bye!

Sincerely, Ji Yun
P.S. Today's T-shirt was cool, with the same color with your skin.

Part VI.

He had turned down the advances of a few females lately. He just wasn't in the mood yet. He had lost his mojo a long time ago and he had no plans on looking for it any time soon. He wasn't secluding himself away but he was spending a lot of time alone. So many things had changed. He had to find himself and in order to do that he knew he had to get lost for a while. He hadn't realized how hollow he had allowed himself to become through out the years.

He went for a jog and that's where he found her. The first female he had truly touched in a long time. He wasn't looking for her but there she was. She followed him home and they would spend the rest of her life together. His heart was in desperate need of this. He had no idea how desperate. They spent long hours together. Late at night he would listen to her shallow breathes. Sometimes he would put his head on her side and listen to her heart beat. She was always warm and her warmth helped to fill his hollowness.

Their relationship wouldn't last very long but it would leave an everlasting mark. She had saved his heart from self imposed isolation and for that he would always be grateful. She died with his hand over her heart while he listened to her shallow breath.

Plans

Due to the current political environment my business has decided to buy tickets for all teachers who are not re-signing and are leaving in the next three months. I fall into this category so I was asked to tell them what date I wanted to return home after my teaching contract was up. My ticket was bought and paid for within 24 hours of telling them the date and they even took suggestions on what airline to fly me back home on.

I will be flying into Portland International Airport on Monday August 3rd at around 4p.m. My good friend Alex claims that he will pick me up at the airport but I think we can guess how that will turn out. So I'm asking some of you (Toby, Monica, Caitlin, Teresa, etc. to please mark that day on your calendar and have access to a car as I will most likely be calling you for a ride from the airport. It would suck to touch foot on American soil and have one of my first acts be to stuff my foot up Al's ass.

Anyways, I am very excited about my pending return and I cannot wait to spend quality time with my friends. The plan so far is that I will be taking a solo trip somewhere around southeast Asia two weeks before I fly home but there have been some complications to that plan. I might end up in Mongolia after all. Yes, that's right, Mongolia. We'll have to wait and see. In the mean while, time continues to tick by and I'm counting my days. I have never had so many job opportunities without really looking in my life, but it's time for me to go, at least for now.

People keep asking me what I'm going to do when I go home and I tell them I have no idea. It seems to make some people uncomfortable but I'm hoping something speaks to me when I get back. I'm going to fly back to Michigan to visit family in September and then I'm going to fly down to L.A. soon after that to visit old friends and remind myself why I left there so many years ago. The risk of visiting L.A. is that I might stay and I think some of my friends down there have a plan to convince me. I'm going to leave myself open to all options when I get back though. I've got friends in Chicago who make a strong case and I do love Chicago.

I think I'm going to take a month or two and just relax, hang out and re-adjust myself. Portland is such a great place to do all of these things. If I can find a job that interests me in Portland then I'll stay there for at least a year. One day, either soon or later I will go back overseas to work though. I'm sure of that. In the mean time, I've got some peeps I've made here who are leaving around the same time as me and are planning to come visit me in October and November. I guess I've talked up Portland so much that now I'm gonna have to prove it. And at some point I'm going to have to make it up to Canada about 2 hours north of Winnipeg and visit my very special friend, her husband and their newborn boy or girl, she's due at the end of this month.

Needless to say I've already got plans on top of plans, and somewhere in all that mess I'm going to look for a job at some point and find a place to rent. Thinking about all this brings one hell of a smile to my face. I really do love being alive...even when it sucks there's still that potential of things looking up.

What does it take?

Okay. Some people might take this the wrong way but I'm sure the majority of you will understand what I'm getting at. With recent events I'm pressed to ask the question, "What does it take for White People to be labelled as terrorist?" I've been talking to some of my friends around here and other back home about some of the violent acts going on in the United States right now. There's the shameful case of the doctor (that's what he was) who was murdered in his church by a man claiming to be on the side of God and the millions upon millions of unborn children. A man who by the way has not admitted to killing this doctor, even though there were many witnesses to the act. Then there is the case of the old ass man who walked into the holocaust museum, with the intention of killing himself some Jews I imagine, and managed to kill one guard (African-American, Black, etc.) before getting himself capped by two other security guards at the museum.

Besides being white both these men belonged to established influential groups. One was a white supremacist and the other belonged to several different anti-abortion groups. I would say they are "pro-life" groups but that's obviously, not the case. Both crimes are sad and apparently both crimes could have been prevented had people done their jobs and enforced the laws of the United States. I'm going to spend most of my time talking about this Scott Roeder character. He's the guy who shot the doctor for doing what is considered legal in the United States. He's the guy who seems to becoming somewhat of a hero in parts of the anti-abortion community. The reason I'm not going to spend much time on the 88 year old white supremacist dude is because he and his group are more honest about what they are. The don't like Jews, they don't like blacks and they want to live in a country that protects God fearing white people from the savagery of those other folks. I got it. I can roll with that. These men and women are on the losing end of history. They will never succeed in their goals and their time has passed. I know some people believe the "race war" is coming one day but I am not one of those people.

But then there's this Roeder motherfucker. He apparently wants to protect women against themselves. He doesn't care what the law says and he doesn't care about self determination. The groups that he belonged to and the groups that he had contact with get support from all over the country. There are silent supporters in the United States government and I'm sure people are denouncing the act in public and smiling in their private lives. The murdered doctors clinic will not reopen apparently. Which actually means this act of terrorism worked. Roeder and his other anti-abortion people got just what they wanted through their acts of violence. How are they different then the people who blow up airplanes and bring buildings crashing to the earth. Where is the outrage that these acts deserve? Where are our leaders denouncing these acts as "evil" and "cowardly"?

Where are the voices that echo so loud when acts like these are done by someone with a strange name that begins with Muhammad? What does it take for people to fear white men? What does it take for the authorities to start profiling white men with all American features? They have been known to blow up buildings in states such as Oklahoma. They have been known walk into schools and start shooting people while throwing home made bombs all over the place. They have been known to hold the nations highest office and start wars over false information.

Where is the fear when Scott Roeder announces this is only the beginning of such acts? How should we proceed in getting more information from this violent person who has extremist views and shares those views with a larger population of people? During this next political election cycle will it harm someone running for office to say they are against abortion? Will people cringe at these words? Will it hurt someone if it comes out that they gave money to an anti-abortion foundation?

Of course not! And it shouldn't. Just like it shouldn't scare people to find out someone running for office is a Muslim or has Muslim ties. No one will, nor should they ever consider torturing this Scott Roeder motherfucker. Torture is simply unacceptable for all human beings, even Scott fucking Roeder. This is the United States of America and one thing I've learned while being away so long is that I really do live in a great country. We need to hold our countries ideals to a higher standard than they have been. We all have blood on our hands. I have a responsibility to question the choices my government makes and I have a right to point out the mistakes I believe have and are taking place. That is what being an American is all about. So when I bring up the fact that the war in Iraq has cost many more Iraqi's their lives than it has Americans I'm not saying I hate the military, I'm pointing out a fact in which our media and our government doesn't seem to like to talk about. The same is and will be true when things start heating up more in Afghanistan.

So when I ask the question, "What does it take for white people in the United States to get labelled as terrorists" don't laugh it off because it's a serious question that deserves some serious thought. Perhaps in answering this question people might start to see how ridiculous some of our choices have been in the past decade or so.

Part V.

A "worry wart." That's what he was. He tended to worry about everything and not in an entertaining Woody Allen kind of way. He had been raised to worry about things. From going outside to eating food, he had learned to worry from an early age. "Is that chicken cooked all the way through?" In his pre-teen years he believed that every time he left the safety of his house that he might never return. A car could run him over. A crazed child molester could kidnap him while he was playing with his friends around the neighborhood. The different ways in which a young boy could meet his maker were endless. Although the years has softened his edge somewhat the worry still remained a part of his person. This worry would eventually morph. into the serious trust issues he currently housed inside of himself.

He didn't want to worry about everything any more. It had never really helped him anyways. Things happened, both good and bad, regardless if he spent time worrying about them or not. He was still here. He could still feel. He was still alive. He had outgrown the small child who worried about all things bad. It was time to let go. It was time to allow space for something new. He was alone. He was living in a foreign country. He was growing.

Rant Rant Rant

I was speaking with a friend today and we got to talking about words. The language of words and how naming something can change peoples reaction to it. I brought up torture because it's been in the news for such a long time. The "false debate" continues to run through the news cycles about "is water boarding torture or not?" The short answer to this question is "yes." I told my friend that asking if water boarding is torture is the wrong question. I believe it's a way of getting people to focus their time and energy on something that will yield no results. Everybody knows water boarding is torture, even the people who say it's not torture no it is. I honestly believe this. They simply don't want to name it but they no the truth within themselves.

I guess for legal purposes some people in our government may shy away from the term torture like they shy away from the term genocide. But, torture is torture no matter how you dress it up. You can call it "enhanced shower taking" or whatever they were calling it during the Bush Administration but it's still torture. The leaders of the world can sit in a air-conditioned room and watch videos of mass grave sites. They can hear first hand testimony from people who escaped mass murder on genocidal levels taking place in their country. These seem leaders can then decide not to label what the just saw and heard genocide but that doesn't change the fact that it is genocide. They know what's going on in these places is genocide just like we know that water boarding is torture.

Words do not change the action of the thing. Thousands of people have been wiped off the face of the planet, on purpose. Okay? Don't call it genocide. Does that mean you can't do anything about what's going on? Does that make these actions (murder, rape, brainwashing, etc.) any less horrifying? Does forcing water into someones lungs while they are strapped down seem any less torturous by not calling it torture? Does not calling it torture make it okay? We should be more concerned about the actions than the words. This is actually how I pick the people I spend time with. I pay more attention to what they do. The kind of person they are. Someone can smile and say hello to you but that doesn't mean they have a good character. I know many a person who knows just the right thing to say but behaves in ways that turns the stomach.

Apparently you can claim you're in the "pro-life" camp and then shoot someone in the head who performs abortions. Then I guess you can remain in the pro-life came and cheer the assassination, bombing and harassment of something that is legally protected in the United fucking States of America! I just killed someone but I'm pro-life. You're going to burn in hell and I hope you die, did I tell you I'm pro-life? I always feel strange talking about abortion because I will never know what it is like to have one. All I can say is that it is a deeply personal decision and I believe whole heartily in a woman's right to choose medical procedures concerning her body. I am curious though, and I don't know the stats on this, how many "pro-choicer's" have blown up the work place of pro-lifers? How many have walked into a church and shot a pro-lifer in the head?

I've been listening to a lot of alternative news lately on the Internet and the frustration is getting to be overwhelming. I'm remembering quickly why I stopped watching the news and listening to Internet radio in the first place. But then I think to myself that I'm giving up and washing my hands of the current reality. But when I find out things like one of my best friends is getting married in July or that my brother and his wife will be having their second child early next year I can't wash my hands of anything. As frustrating as it is change really does have to start somewhere right? As cheesy as that sounds.

Obama had a good message but he's having a difficult time convincing me he's not just another politician. But, that's actually exactly what he is, a politician. Is it possible to get into a position of power and influence without selling a piece of your soul? If the answer is "yes" then where the fuck are these men and women? When Obama won the election I wrote that he would for sure disappoint because it would be impossible not to. I was never in awe or in love with him. I think he is miles and miles ahead of what we've had sitting in the White House but that doesn't mean I'm complacent.

His whole "looking forward" message is bullshit! Yeah, I said it. It's bullshit. Of course, we need to look forward as a nation, as a country, as a people but does that mean all is forgotten? Hell no! People have to be held responsible for their actions. Isn't that what justice is? Looking forward does not mean that you cannot question the choices of the past. It does not mean you can't investigate the sincerity of what was said and how events unfolded. And it for damn sure doesn't mean that you can't bring people before the LAWS of the land and hold them to answer for what they have done. But I guess some businesses are too big to fail and some people are to powerful to be held responsible for anything they have done. That's not the kind of society I want to live in and it's not the kind of world I want my second niece or nephew to grow up in.

I just had to vent for a little bit. I can feel myself getting more and more annoyed so I think it's time for me to end this blog. And don't even get me started on marriage. I'm calling it marriage because it doesn't matter if someone is gay or not, it's still fucking marriage. We are just not allowing people to marry because they are gay. I'll just say one thing on this topic and then I'll really be done. I can't help being a black person and a gay person can't help being gay. I didn't choose to be black (although I thank the universe every day I am...I've been watching all the white people here tan on their days off and I'm so glad I can spend my time doing other things. Side note: Why do white people always have to show each other their tans when they are done? And why do they love to put their now tan are up against mine and say "I'm almost as dark as you?" No your not! You're not even close to being as dark as me.....you're white!) Black people used to be punished for simply being who they were born to be, that's why I think I get more frustrated with people of color who support oppressing gay folk. Imagine in this day and time if someone got on the television or the radio and said something like "I believe marriage is for white people". The point is so fucking obvious it doesn't even seem like it needs to be said. And before you reach for the bible black folk remember that that same bible was used to justify your great great great grandparents being systematically oppressed.

Part IV.

He was in a funk. That much he knew. He couldn't say he was homesick because he wasn't. He had only experienced homesickness one time and that was his first year as an undergraduate in Colorado. It lasted for exactly one month during football season. He didn't want to play any more. The game had lost it's flavor for him. He didn't want to study, he didn't want to talk to anyone he just wanted to go home and sleep in his bed. He ended up flying back to Michigan for a week soon after. His grandfather had recently died although he missed the funeral he decided to go home for a visit. While back at home he saw familiar faces in the crowd and had familiar conversations with them. In a few days he found that he missed looking outside his dorm window and seeing Pikes Peak. He missed walking around the campus and sitting on the bleachers reading a book or watching the sun go down. He never got homesick again. No, he wasn't homesick now. He was bored. He got bored easily and he always had. This presented its share of problems in his life. "The things we do when we get bored", he thought.

Korea was interesting but it had lost its uniqueness a while ago. He had been to the temples, he had seen the mountains (going to school in Colorado had ruined all mountains for him), he had seen the things that people go to Korea to see and now it was time for something different. "What now?" He had plans in the works to start travelling through the rest of Asia but what would he do with the rest of his time in Korea? Then he remembered. People are natural resources that never run out. He enjoyed stories and every body has a story to tell. You just have to know how to ask the right questions to get them to share. You have to be available to listen, so that's what he did. He listened to the stories that were all around him. The boredom evaporated like a puddle in July.

Part III.

He had and probably always would be a man who liked the truth. The truth was very important to him. But, it took him some time to understand that the truth was not absolute. He started to understand that it was honesty he was attracted to. The truth was nice, the truth was an ideal, but honesty is what got his attention. Honesty is hard and honest people should not be taken for granted. This much he knew. The longer he remained in Korea the more he realized he had spent many years being dishonest with himself. That was going to change sooner than he had expected. He remembered, "Honesty is hard."

His days became formulaic at work. He fell into a pattern and became restless. What did he want? He wanted something more but he didn't know what it was. So, he started to take little trips around Korea by himself. He would get on a bus or a train and travel to a city or a town he had never been to. He would get off at his destination and simply walk around. A private person by nature, he was uncomfortably always the focus of attention as he walked around. The smaller towns were the worst. Living in a country that is over 95% ethnically the same can present different challenges when you fall into that 5% category. He decided that the bubble he walked within needed to be popped if he was going to survive in this country of starers and pointers. He walked through neighborhoods and smiled at small children who froze in place when they saw him coming. The more curious ones would practice their English. "Hello", they would say. "Hello", he would reply. Once they realized he could talk the other children would attack him with the English words they knew. Like ravenous sharks they would tear the English from his body. In time he would get used to these events and sometimes enjoy them.

The more he hung out with the new friends he was making the more he realized how much he had changed. The more he talked to his friends back home the more he realized how lucky he was to have them in his life. He was changing and he was bringing them along for the ride. His girlfriend had been in Korea for over half a year and their time together was spent sparingly. It took a buses, subways, trains and taxi cabs to bring them together. He began to realize that they could have lived down the street from each other and they still would have been a universe apart. Things were different. Things had been different for a long time now. For the first time he was being honest with himself. They didn't belong together. A few months later they would break up over the phone and never see each other again. It would be an uneventful departure. Like the air leaving a balloon it would simply shrink until there was nothing left, not even hard feelings.

A month before the break up he would buy her a new digital camera. He knew she enjoyed taking pictures and he wanted to see her smile one last time. By this time he knew the ship was sinking and it was only a matter of time until it sank into the depths of the ocean. His new friends didn't understand why he would spend so much money on a person he was one conversation away from breaking up with (mutually). His old friends never questioned the gift. His old friends knew better. He couldn't fault his new friends for their confusion and what seemed to be frustration with his gesture. They had never met her. They had never witnessed her smile. Almost a year after the break up (mutual) he would go shopping for a digital camera for himself. He wanted to get a nice camera before he returned to the states. As he was testing out the different cameras he would think about her taking pictures and seeing the world through her unique lens. He would feel a twinge of sadness which would quickly be replaced with a smile.

Part II.

He woke up to find he had been in Korea for three months. It wasn't anything like he had expected it to be. For some reason he had convinced himself he was going to travel back in time when he left Oregon. He was going to travel to a time and place where things were simple and fresh. Korea was not simple and it was not fresh. It was old, but it had new veins running all over its landscape. They could teach the United States a thing or two about technology that was for sure. He didn't have to worry if he started to yearn for something western because Korea had decided it was a good idea to put a Dunkin Doughnuts or a Baskin Robins every 100 feet in the city. But lucky for him he did not live in the city, he had to take an hour long bus ride to get into the city. Some days it wouldn't feel lucky but a year later he would be thankful for it.

His job wasn't what he thought it would be either. It was a job just like all the others, except this time, it was in Korea. "What exactly do you want to do with your life?" He will ask himself this question for the next year and a half. He would get the know the people he had been working with very well. Some he would like to forget and some would become a part of his story. His friend pool was expanding and for the first time in his life he didn't put up dams. He started to ask himself "What would I normally do?" and he would do the opposite. It felt good to step out of himself but something never change. He could still spot an asshole a mile away. He thought it was funny that no matter what country people are from there will always be assholes. He had made three good friends in just as many months.

The first two were men and this was something new for him. He'd known nearly all of his guy friends since diapers so making new male friends was a big deal for him. These two friends would remain his friends for the entire time he stayed in Korea. He suspected they would remain his friends long after that too. The third friend was a female from South Africa. She reminded him of a girl he knew in middle school and he liked her instantly. She liked to borrow things (books, plates, shirts, etc.) from him and not return them for weeks at a time. They remained at her place until he noticed them while eating dinner at one of her many "food/people" sessions. "Hey, is that mine?" he would ask. "Yeah, I meant to give that back to you" was her standard answer. She would bring him back a cheetah print muscle shirt from South Africa a year later. She would tell him that all the black Africans (he forgot there were white africans) wear them and that he should get in touch with his roots. This statement would make him laugh every time he thought about it from then on.

He would attempt to learn Korean but would never give it his all. He was different. He had always been different but now he was different without rules. Being differnet in the United States is not like being different in Korea. Being different here meant people would point, laugh, touch and smell and on one occasion a little girl, no older than seven, would stick out her tiny tongue and lick his arm. She would think he was made of chocolate and since she liked chocolate she would try to taste him. This incident would make him famous among his new group of friends.

He had not been in Korea half a year yet but he felt change happening all around him. He felt it inside of him too. This adventure would change his person and decided to sit back and float down the river for a while. It felt so good to let the river do all the work.

Part I.

He had decided to teach in Korea for a year because he had nothing better to do. A recent college graduate with a Master's degree that was hard to explain and even harder to get work with he thought maybe a year in a foreign country was just what he needed. Finding a job, although somewhat stressful, was easier than he had imagined. This was going to be his first long term adventure overseas and he had his reservations. He didn't know much about Korea or Koreans for that matter. "Koreans are short, right?" He prided himself on having a diverse group of friends but Koreans had not yet made it into his pack. He gave his job notice (good riddance) and he waited until it was time to go.

He had been in a relationship for quite sometime and he hoped his flight to Korea would be less rocky. "Friends, we should have only been friends" he thought to himself. Although they were both going to Korea (she would arrive two months later) he knew inside that mystic part of himself that they would not be leaving Korea together.

Finally the day came where picked up his two bags (one was full of things he would later realize he didn't need)and boarded a plane destined for the future. The plane ride was comfortable beyond his expectations. He made a mental note that he would book this airline for his flight home. Before he knew it the plane was touch down a few mile outside Seoul. He had not sleep a single wink. He had not rested his eyes one time.

The airport was smaller than he thought it would be and easier to navigate (thank God). His ride was holding a sign with his name on it (spelled wrong of course). The man who would take his bags and drive him to his new home was ancient. He said "Hello" in Korean and then climbed into the back of an old van that smelled of smoke, garlic and a new scent he would come to know very well in time. To say that man driving the odor filled van drove fast would be under and understatement. The old man made up for his age with his skills on the road. Red lights were a thing of the past. Speed was the future. The ride took longer than expected but was exhilarating none the less.

He knew he was close to his destination when the old mans GPS system started ringing. He looked out his window as the van slowed down and for the first time he saw what was to be his new home for what he thought would only be a year (he was wrong). He was not scared but a chill ran through his body anyways. Without warning his body became very tired and he knew sleep was near.

There was a younger foreign man (non-Koreans are foreigners in Korea) waiting as the Van came to a stop. He was nice enough looking. Definitely not threatening and definitely not American. "Australian or from New Zealand" he thought. The younger man helped him out of the van and showed him to his apartment. The young man gave a quick, thick accent filled information session and then left him to settle in. "This apartment is small and there's no toilet paper" he thought. It was late and he was tired. He found some napkins in one of the cabinets and he used the bathroom. He was too tired to unpack and almost too tired to put sheet on the bed...almost, but there were something about him that would never change. He put new sheets on the bed.

It was late October and the night air was cool. He opened his window and took a deep breath. He could still smell garlic in his nostrils. He looked around the room that would become his home and thought, "I'll clean tomorrow." He lay down on his rock hard mattress and closed his eyes for the first time in a long time.

Where Ever You Go You Take Yourself With You

Where ever you go you take yourself with you. I was at a friends house the other night for a dinner party and she had this written on her kitchen cabinets in dry erase marker. The cabinets in our apartments are all white and made of the same material used to make white boards so the foreign teachers like to use this space to write information on. Anyways, I had seen this quote before but I wanted to get her perspective on it. She's from South Africa and has been living in Korea for the past three years. She has also been all over this planet in her very short 30 years. So I asked her about the quote and she answered it in typical Christa fashion. Keep in mind that Christa has probably been one of my most trusted friends since I've been in Korea. She told the small group of people at the table how she first left South Africa because she wanted to live in other countries and experience other cultures. But then she followed it up with something I thought was very insightful.

She told us how unhappy she was in South Africa and that unhappiness followed her around to each and every country she has worked in. I guess Christa thought moving around would help her feel something more or find that "thing" she was searching for but it never happened. So she had the same feeling in Israel as she did in Finland as she did in Japan as she did in Russia as she did in Egypt as she did in Germany as she did in Korea. The thing that first drew me to Christa was that she wasn't snobbish or arrogant about her travels around the world. She never bragged about all the places she has visited or lived in. They were just simply a part of her story. She travels because that what she likes to do. She doesn't travel for anyone else but herself. I've been to a few places with her and I've learned a lot about how she approaches new places and people. It has been a humbling experience to spend time with someone who approaches life and people with such mindfulness.

But when Christa explained that it didn't matter where she went she was always going to feel this unhappiness until she travelled within herself to figure out what her deal was I could relate to that wholly. I could have been on the most for a decade. I could have been jumping from county to country but I would always be with myself. Christa is great for self reflection and that's what I got out of that dinner party...that and some wild ass South African food. I think I can enjoy my surrounding and the people around me now more than I have been able to at any other point in my life because I'm at peace with myself for the first time in my life. I'm taking care of myself and as a result people like Christa have become a part of my life.

One of the best things about my current work environment is that I have been able to meet folks from all over the English speaking parts of the world. You have to speak English to work here of course. I now have reasons to visit other countries and places to stay when I visit those countries. In a perfect world I would buy a house in Portland (something I've been thinking about more and more) and rent it out while I continue to work and travel around for a few more years. Portland is actually a wonderful city and I apologize for all the times I took it for granted. I'm a big enough person to admit when I was wrong about something and I was wrong about that.

I guess I'll just have to wait and see what life has in store for me. Happy spring days to all of you.