*Pics to be included soon*
Five days was hardly enough, but it was so great to see my sister and family after nearly two
years! Currently based in Okinawa, Katie is closer to Taiwan than Japan, and the culture of Okinawa is, by most locals' accounts, decidedly Okinawan and not Japanese. With two brilliantly beautiful days when I arrived, Katie, the kids, and I walked to the Okinawa Zoo on Day 1-- and although we didn't see any of the animals, we did catch an Okinawan dance performance that was awesome.
Not necessarily feeling awkward, Katie was nonetheless accutely aware that she and I were the only Westerners in the park (well, except for two men, who were individually with Japanese women, which prompted Katie and I to discuss the intricacies of "inner-culture" marriage/relationships... since I haven't cleared this blog entry with her, I will refrain from sharing her viewpoint... and mine, too... stay tuned for Chapter 5 of my book. I'm conducting more research while in SoKo about the fascination men have for Asians.)
Because Katie and Chris live off-base (FYI: they are not "military;" rather, Chris is civil service with the Navy), Katie experiences a more authentic experience amongst Okinawans. Which isn't saying it's all that great. Okinawans are especially hostile (not necessarily phyically harmful, though) to Americans right now. For one thing, the American military has a base for each of its branches -- army, navy, air force, marines, etc -- on the island. And as is bound to happen anywhere, there have been unfortunate incidents between soldiers and Oki civilians (the most recent is one in which a soldier was drunk driving and killed an Okinawan). But the main thing, is that Okinawans want one particular base off the island. And a Japanese politician campaigned on the promise that he would make it happen.
So, when I was in Okinawa, tensions were high because talks of moving the base were to be held in the coming weeks. I say this to say that the stares Katie and I received from the Japanese are much more severe than the harmless, non-hostile curious stares I receive from Koreans.
*Sidenote: Since then (May 5-9), the politician renegged on his campaign promise, causing much upheaval amongst Okinawans. Although he said it was because of North Korea sank a South Korean ship (see other entry!), who knows if that's the truth, or a simple convenient scape goat?
My nephew, who is almost one year old, is bar none the cutest damn kid around. Of course, don't all aunts say the same thing of their nephews? But, because Katie gave birth to Brennan in Japan, I hadn't met him yet, and it was amazing.
Day 2 was a trip to Hamahiga, a not-so-well known small beach about an hour from Oki City. I had already known from my descent into Okinawa how much I missed the water, but being on the beach cemented my heartache. I am, first and foremost, a water girl. With seven generations of Floridians in my blood, I suppose it's genetic, but after settling in Orlando (yes, I know it was only an hour or so to the nearest beach) for so long, and now Korea, I know in my heart: I'm meant to be on, by, or in water!
Katie's husband had a 24-hour "layover" at home (his job takes him to far-reaching places on the globe for undetermined amounts of time) on Saturday, so I offered to babysit the kids so they could have a "Date Night." So, after a day of watching one of my nieces play soccer and then shopping for "American" products on the base to bring back with me to Korea (really, I just needed a new supply of Crystal Light lemonade!), I settled in for a night with the kids. After making dinner, changing Brennan, doing arts and crafts, and putting the kids to bed, I felt super domestic -- something I don't ever feel. Something I'm ok with not feeling right now :) I quietly thanked the universe for my current position in life.
Sunday morning, we made the trek to the airport. It was sad to leave Katie and the kids, but we'd had an awesome time.
Thanks again, Korea, for celebrating Children's Day, which gave me the opportunity to chill with the fam for a few days!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Hiking, bookstores, and baseball games
Hiking is a big sport in Korea. Everything I'd read before coming to SoKo indicated that Koreans were outdoors-crazed and loved to deck themselves out in hiking gear and hit the mountains. When I heard that I would be hiking a moutain with my fellow teachers, both Western and Korean, I though, what better time to invest in hiking sticks! HAHAHA. I was wrong!
I brought my cool new sticks to school the following Monday and just happened to show them to a Korean teacher, whose reaction I can hardly capture in words. Her gut-wrenching belly laugh, I had never heard, but I was so happy I could elicit such happiness and joy from my innocent purchase. J told me that only ajummas (really old women) use hiking sticks and that I'd be laughed right off the mountain. Of course, because I'm in Korea, no one would actually laugh to my face, but laugh they would... and they would do it heartily.
Needless to say, I didn't bring the sticks on the mountain hike (which was no worries, because the "mountain" was more of a kiddie-mountain with no need to stablize my footing. Even though we did get rained on when we had almost reached the top!
Baseball vs. Bookstores: A Fair Fight
I'm not a huge baseball fan. Actually, I'm not a huge sports fan. Sometimes, I wish I was, but I think there's something in my blood preventing me from indulging in the latest sports news. I am, however, very much interested in meeting new people. So, when I was invited to attend a Korean baseball game, I faced a dilemma: socialize and be bored at the game, or do something on my own? *Shocker*- I did something on my own. Liz said, "What other time in your life can you say you've been to a baseball game in Korea???" Fair enough. My response? "What other time in my life could I say how BORED I was at a baseball game in Korea?"
And, so on that beautiful Saturday afternoon, I bypassed Olympic Park and headed to Gangnam, an affluent area of Seoul, to check out Kyobo Bookstore. Man, did I make the right decision. Bookstores are my sanctuaries, my temples, my churches, my places of worship. They rank even higher than office supply stores (given my fierce opposition to "real" 9-5 corporate jobs, perhaps it's shocking that office supplies give me unmeasurable pleasure, but it's true. I could spend hundreds of dollars on paper clips, binders, notebooks, legal pads, markers, pens, retractable pencils... the works. OH! Just writing about it makes me giddy.)... but, as usual, I digress.
Walking into Korea's largest chain bookstore (which, incidently, puts Borders and Barnes and Noble to shame), I instinctively let out a breath of air and released weeks of unrealized stress. Turns out I was in desperate need of some quality alone time, wandering racks of stories, browsing a surprisingly large section of English books, and sifting through countless options of book escapism. It was heavenly.
True to form, I walked out with five books: One on learning Korean (for the love of god, I need to learn it!!!), one on Korean culture -- cartoon style, a pocket atlas (SWEET), a collection of stories by David Sedaris, and Paulo Coelho's "The Witch of Portobello," which is turning out to be an incredible book. While I'm not a big fan of fiction, Coehlo is a fantastic author. Admittingly, I've only read two of his other books, but I devoured them. "The Witch of Portobello" struck me for another reason, though... One of its catch lines is:
"How do we find the courage to always be true to ourselves -- even if we are unsure of who we are?"
Given some recent events that shall only be published in my Great American Nonfiction Novel, this line rang so true to me. I could write a whole other blog entry on this theme. Although I'm not entirely sure why I hold the view that I should know who I am, I'm even more unsure as to why I think it's unwise to share this sentiment with others. Upon reflection, though, why is that so bad? Yeah, I don't know entirely who I am... Does anyone? Are we not constantly evolving, adapting to new beliefs or thoughts? Maybe, maybe not. Personally, I believe if you're not growing or evolving, you're stuck. Stagnant. Living an unfilling life. For me, I hope that I always continue to grow and evolve... and that means sometimes being unsure of who I am. It can be uncomfortable, not knowing who I am. Labels help us identify with certain groups. But, as I recently read somewhere, labels are for food, not people! Insightful, I know. Sometimes I amaze myself at how freakin' reflective I can be.
Finding someone who claims to know exactly who they are is like someone who claims they have found the Truth. You should always doubt that claim; it's an impossible feat.
This whole "Who am I" business is tiresome. I'm thrust back to Mrs. West's eighth grade English class when I wrote a poem titled, "Who am I". I was the wind. It was a pretty heady poem for a 13-yr-old. And god knows, it was so indicative of my adolescence -- I mean, classbook Erikson in keeping with the stages of development...
Anyway, I don't think I'm the wind anymore, though my travels sometimes make me feel like it (but in this case, being the wind is good!) Whatever. If I had to create a business card, and I mean, my ideal business card, it would probably just have my name: Suzi Ball.
I am so many things. I just don't want to be boxed in.
And, so, I am reminded of Cat Stevens:
"Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
And if you want to be free, be free
'Cause there's a million things to be
You know that there are."
So, that's it. I'm free. Because that's who and what I want to be.
I brought my cool new sticks to school the following Monday and just happened to show them to a Korean teacher, whose reaction I can hardly capture in words. Her gut-wrenching belly laugh, I had never heard, but I was so happy I could elicit such happiness and joy from my innocent purchase. J told me that only ajummas (really old women) use hiking sticks and that I'd be laughed right off the mountain. Of course, because I'm in Korea, no one would actually laugh to my face, but laugh they would... and they would do it heartily.
Needless to say, I didn't bring the sticks on the mountain hike (which was no worries, because the "mountain" was more of a kiddie-mountain with no need to stablize my footing. Even though we did get rained on when we had almost reached the top!
Baseball vs. Bookstores: A Fair Fight
I'm not a huge baseball fan. Actually, I'm not a huge sports fan. Sometimes, I wish I was, but I think there's something in my blood preventing me from indulging in the latest sports news. I am, however, very much interested in meeting new people. So, when I was invited to attend a Korean baseball game, I faced a dilemma: socialize and be bored at the game, or do something on my own? *Shocker*- I did something on my own. Liz said, "What other time in your life can you say you've been to a baseball game in Korea???" Fair enough. My response? "What other time in my life could I say how BORED I was at a baseball game in Korea?"
And, so on that beautiful Saturday afternoon, I bypassed Olympic Park and headed to Gangnam, an affluent area of Seoul, to check out Kyobo Bookstore. Man, did I make the right decision. Bookstores are my sanctuaries, my temples, my churches, my places of worship. They rank even higher than office supply stores (given my fierce opposition to "real" 9-5 corporate jobs, perhaps it's shocking that office supplies give me unmeasurable pleasure, but it's true. I could spend hundreds of dollars on paper clips, binders, notebooks, legal pads, markers, pens, retractable pencils... the works. OH! Just writing about it makes me giddy.)... but, as usual, I digress.
Walking into Korea's largest chain bookstore (which, incidently, puts Borders and Barnes and Noble to shame), I instinctively let out a breath of air and released weeks of unrealized stress. Turns out I was in desperate need of some quality alone time, wandering racks of stories, browsing a surprisingly large section of English books, and sifting through countless options of book escapism. It was heavenly.
True to form, I walked out with five books: One on learning Korean (for the love of god, I need to learn it!!!), one on Korean culture -- cartoon style, a pocket atlas (SWEET), a collection of stories by David Sedaris, and Paulo Coelho's "The Witch of Portobello," which is turning out to be an incredible book. While I'm not a big fan of fiction, Coehlo is a fantastic author. Admittingly, I've only read two of his other books, but I devoured them. "The Witch of Portobello" struck me for another reason, though... One of its catch lines is:
"How do we find the courage to always be true to ourselves -- even if we are unsure of who we are?"
Given some recent events that shall only be published in my Great American Nonfiction Novel, this line rang so true to me. I could write a whole other blog entry on this theme. Although I'm not entirely sure why I hold the view that I should know who I am, I'm even more unsure as to why I think it's unwise to share this sentiment with others. Upon reflection, though, why is that so bad? Yeah, I don't know entirely who I am... Does anyone? Are we not constantly evolving, adapting to new beliefs or thoughts? Maybe, maybe not. Personally, I believe if you're not growing or evolving, you're stuck. Stagnant. Living an unfilling life. For me, I hope that I always continue to grow and evolve... and that means sometimes being unsure of who I am. It can be uncomfortable, not knowing who I am. Labels help us identify with certain groups. But, as I recently read somewhere, labels are for food, not people! Insightful, I know. Sometimes I amaze myself at how freakin' reflective I can be.
Finding someone who claims to know exactly who they are is like someone who claims they have found the Truth. You should always doubt that claim; it's an impossible feat.
This whole "Who am I" business is tiresome. I'm thrust back to Mrs. West's eighth grade English class when I wrote a poem titled, "Who am I". I was the wind. It was a pretty heady poem for a 13-yr-old. And god knows, it was so indicative of my adolescence -- I mean, classbook Erikson in keeping with the stages of development...
Anyway, I don't think I'm the wind anymore, though my travels sometimes make me feel like it (but in this case, being the wind is good!) Whatever. If I had to create a business card, and I mean, my ideal business card, it would probably just have my name: Suzi Ball.
I am so many things. I just don't want to be boxed in.
And, so, I am reminded of Cat Stevens:
"Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
And if you want to be free, be free
'Cause there's a million things to be
You know that there are."
So, that's it. I'm free. Because that's who and what I want to be.
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