Evolution

I seem to have a lot of time to think here because I've decided that the most appropriate word for me right now is evolution. This life is so far removed from anything I've ever known, that I have had to change a lot to adapt. I am still very much the same person, I have the same priorities: my family, my friends, being happy, traveling. It's just that this new adventure is forcing me to be much more of a chameleon than in my past.  Being out of college and working for my own money would have been challenge enough, but adding into the mix that I am a foreigner in a very strange land changes everything. I don't want to sound like I'm cutting jungle vines with a machete and fighting tigers on my way to work, but there are times when I feel like I'm Alice, who has just fallen down the rabbit hole. I have settled into a routine, and if I said the bare bones of it -- wake up, go to work, come home, run, eat, sleep, repeat ... I could be anywhere. But this is not Nashville. This is not even Paris or Geneve. I am lost in the literal and figurative sense all the time. I am frustrated at times, but for the most part I just have to laugh. I am so glad to be embracing this challenge.

Last Sunday I went to the Gyeongbokgung Palace after church and took a guided tour -- it is the last palace from the Joseon Dynasty, where the royal family lived until the last member died in 1970 something. (Though the dynasty technically ended in 1910.) The tour was absolutely packed, over 100 people for the English tour, so I found myself acting like my father and sticking like glue to the tour guide. (If you have never been on a tour with my father you might not understand... He is 110% deaf and refuses to admit it, so on tours he obsessively sticks to the guide so that he can actually hear about every other word, and then complains bitterly about them mumbling.)

The palace itself was gorgeous and like nothing I have ever seen for royals. It seems so humble in comparison to anything Westerners would approve of being fit for a king. The architecture was stunning, albeit smaller than I would have imagined. There were no gold thrones, no lavish tapestries at this palace -- only subtle things separated the king from the commoners at Gyeongbokgung. For example, the sidewalks that ran through the palace's buildings had three separate areas -- the middle was slightly raised. This section was only for the king, because his feet should never touch the same ground as commoners, and he should always literally be above them. Also, the palace was painted in bright colors, while commoners' houses were not allowed to be painted. The other thing that really surprised me was that the king, even after western influences affected the structure of the palace, slept on the floor with no furniture in his room whatsoever. Apparently this was done so that no one could hide in his room to kill him.

The gardens were what really inspired me, and I wish I could have stayed longer reading by the coy pond. Ancient Korean culture emphasizes learning beyond anything we can imagine, and it is still extremely important in modern society. Apparently, the job of the Korean kings was to study languages, cultures, literature, math, science, etc 8 hours a day, and attend to state business for another 8. The coy pond had a study pagoda and a library to the north of it, and I was enchanted with the entire area, thinking of how many kings and crown princes had come before. I appreciate and marvel at a society that places learning as one of their top social priorities. It has always been one of my biggest grievances in America that universities, institutions supposedly dedicated to advanced learning, will praise their athletes far more than their scholars.

This past Saturday I went to a fireworks show with my friend Amanda. I was thinking it was going to be a few hundred people gathering around the river to watch some fireworks go off -- oh no. It was a full on international spectacle, America vs. Japan vs. Korea and a huge freaking deal! It was held on Yeouido, which is a small island in the middle of the Han River. A lot of people call it the Manhattan on Seoul, but I think geography is the only similarity. It's usually quite boring, with nothing but offices. (There is a Deloitte building there, and I keep hoping that Genevieve will get an assignment out here!)

The show was beyond our wildest expectations -- from getting there to leaving we were on sensory overload. First, in order to get to the island we had to take the metro with approximately 98 fafillion other people. We were so packed onto metro that it took us over an hour to get OUT of the station! Amanda and I were feeling like sardines, desperate for some fresh air when we noticed a group of young people breaking free from the pack  -- by running up the down escalator! We started over that way to copy their amazing idea, when the police showed up and spoiled our fun. :( When we were just about to pass out from the heat, we FINALLY got out of there and started the search for dinner. We eventually gave up trying to find anything eatable (see, nothing like Manhattan) and settled on a Korean corndog (it's the closest thing I can compare it to, but it's not actually a corndog). We passed on the larvae and fish heads the vendor was also selling. After a quick stop at Club BTW to get some soju (Korean rice alcohol) and snacks -- sea weed, wahoo! -- we set off for the show.

Yeouido is a very small island, and the main road is right along a small grassy area, and then the waterfront, where the show was to happen. We had to struggle a little bit to get a spot, because along with the 98 fafillion people on the metro there were 897 fafillion people who had the bright idea to come early and stake out spots. We found one on a curb by a lady selling dried squid. (Bleh) We waited for the show to begin, drank our soju and ate our snacks. When we got annoyed with that spot we moved and found a cute Korean family that pointed to their blanket, and moved their things over as an invitation, so we sat with them!

The show was at least a million times better than the best 4th of July you have ever seen. Japan started off the show, and every single firework that went off was better than the next -- I couldn't even imagine how they were going to top the last one, and yet they always did! I was definitely routing for America, but I'm not going to lie, I kept waiting for them to get better and better, but Japan really beat our pants off. It was still amazing, but not quite as good as Japan. Although as far as music choices go, America won. Now, I am not sure who organized this, but we assumed Korea -- because we are sure they fibbed when they invited America and Japan to compete. Something like, "Hey guys, small little fireworks show. Like 10 minutes, nothing amazing.”.. Thus, America and Japan thought to themselves, "Hmm, Korea is gonna do 10 minutes. We'll one up them and do 20." and then Korea had a little chuckle and said, "Muhaha, we will do 30 minutes and spend at least half of our GDP!" Perhaps it was the soju, but Amanda and I couldn't get our jaws off the floor. It was literally raining sparkles, I felt like I was in a fairytale.

When it was all said and done we decided that instead of braving the metro again, that we would walk as far as we could and then catch a cab to Hongdae, where we were meeting other friends. (We got to see the world's largest Presbyterian church on our little adventure!) By the time we got to Hongdae I was exhausted. I hung around for a little while, but eventually checked out because all of a sudden I missed my friends way too much -- It was homecoming at Vandy. Missing your favorite people and feeling left out is a lousy feeling. I cried most of the cab ride home, and the cab driver, who spoke a little English, kept saying, "No cry, Sarah. No cry." He offered me bubble gum, but then tried to over charge me for my ride. Jerk.

I came home and got to talk to them via video chat, because everyone was staying at Brennan's house. Talking to them that evening, their morning, was really great. It was so normal, like nothing had changed from the days in the 801 common room. Seeing them all together was hard, but just hearing them say "We wish you were here." was really all I needed. I still wish I could have been there with them, but just chatting with them was enough to dry my tears.

It's ironic that these feelings of sadness also bring me solace, because it reminds me how lucky I am to have people that I care about so much. How devastating would it be if I were able to travel through life and not miss anyone? I have been very fortunate in my life that wherever I go I seem to make incredible friends. Some I rarely see, but they are all even more amazing than the best firework show in Korea.