Losing & Learning

I've realized that moving to Korea has proved itself to be rather challenging and adventurous, but I just didn't think it would be this hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm okay. But, somehow I've lost myself in the process of learning to finding myself.

Most people know that I needed change. I needed to move myself out of my comfort zone of being an Early Childhood Education teacher, living in a safe apartment with two wonderful roommates and a loving cat, and being surrounded by an awesome group of solid, moral friends. I had a routine that was safe, predictable, and comforting. In my heart, it troubled me to find myself settling for less than what I was created to do in life. Something pulled on my heart--I needed to shake things up; not because I was bored but because I needed a challenge.

I first applied to Teach for America. A grueling process which proved it was rather difficult to be accepted into their niche of naive world-changers. I had stellar recommendations, a resume that impressed many of my interviewers, and a lesson plan that seemed unique enough to me (making patterns with fruit loops!), however it just wasn't enough to make the cut. Teach for America was gracious enough to keep me on their mailing lists for future endeavors that may be more suited for my experience.

So, fast forward two months and I find myself being surrounded with stories of people trekking far and wide to the land of South Korea to embark on a journey to teach English. I would literally stumble across South Korean references in the oddest places- television, friends, church, and even bus stops (I stumbled across a Korean book). Somehow, I felt the universe pulling me towards the Far East. Three days later I found AdventureTeaching, an organization that "matches your unique set of skills, needs, and desires and matches you to the perfect English Teacher employment opportunities."

Really, it's the matchmaker process equivalent to online dating, but for schools.

As I scanned the site for the FAQ's, the application process, testimonies of previous teachers, and helpful tools to jumpstart the visa process, I decided to apply. It turned out to be a long arduous process that spanned the entire summer, but I knew deep down in my heart that it would all work out and I would somehow end up in the country that many have proclaimed to be full of adventure, experience, and opportunity. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to find myself; to discover what I like, dislike, to learn more about teaching overseas, to experience new things and to find adventure.

Fast forward to November. Here I am: sitting, wondering, and realizing.

I am sitting in my teacher lounge, scratching my head in bewilderment and wonder as to how I ended up here. I am wondering how I am going to spend the next nine months teaching, making friends, exploring, and how I can embark on more adventurous opportunities. Lastly, I am trying to realize how I have lost myself so quickly in a matter of three months and what went wrong.

I don't like who I've become. 

I've become this woman who strives for acceptance, approval, and to be the center of attention. I've lost the ability to stand my ground and stay away from my vices. I've sacrificed weekends of adventure for weekends of drinking, partying, and staying out until 6am. I've lost my ability of self-control. I've lost sight of who I am.

I've always struggled with acceptance. I broke somewhere along in college and decided I didn't need people's approval. I didn't need to be liked by everybody. Instead, I needed to follow my heart and do the things that matter most to me: loving people, serving people, and making a difference in people's lives. I started my path towards individuality and I discovered I was meant to be an individual, not a part of some group. Recently, I've lost sight of my individualism. I need to find my way back. I need to pull away from the things that dangerously lead me towards the path of self-destruction. I need to spend more nights thinking, soul searching, organizing, and waking my conscience.

My post is not intended to frighten anyone back home, so please don't fear, worry or fret. Rather, this post is a raw invitation to the process of living abroad, finding oneself, the struggle for acceptance and making friends, and how things are not as rosy, glorious, or opportunistic as what others may paint it. Sure, teaching abroad has a romantic appeal, but with all romance there is sure to be struggle, difficulty and even heartbreak. Not everything has a happily ever after. It's okay to journey through the roller-coaster of emotions and hit a few bumps along the way. Sure there will be moments of darkness but we need to experience both in order to learn, grow, and mature. There is beauty in the struggle, in the pain, in the darkness, and in the fight.

I am losing to learn. I will find myself. I will make it through. Your strength, friendship, and encouragement is always appreciated but not required. Walk with me as you wish. Accept me if you will. Love me as you can.

"Everyone thinks about changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."
-Leo Tolstoy

Trekking & Tranquility

The body is a beautiful and powerful entity.

I never knew how far and how hard the body could be pushed until I went on a hike with a Meetup group, Climbing in Korea to the Yeongnam Alps--near Ulsan, South Korea. Labeled as "moderately easy," and more than open to beginner hikers, I figured I might as well broaden my hiking horizons and join the trip. For 35,000 won and the chance to sleep on a bus en route to Ulsan; (about 5 hours from Seoul) I didn't really have an excuse not to go. So, with a simple click on my computer to join the group and a trip to the ATM to wire money (super easy/safe in Korea) to the group leader, I was signed up for adventure in less than an hour.

My journey began at 10:15pm to ride the subway to Sports Complex station, which was an adventure in itself [I live at least an hour from Seoul, and Gangnam district is another 30 minutes south on the subway] but luckily I made it just in time to board the bus at 11:45pm. As I stepped aboard the swanky charter bus, I was relieved to find comfy chairs and a window seat. My bus mate and I chatted for a few minutes and then turned our separate ways to fall asleep to the hums of the bus engine and soft breathing of fellow hikers scattered throughout the bus.

5:00am came without haste and 45 hikers groaned at the thought of leaving the warm bus in exchange for a bitter temperature and darkness lurking outside. Flashlights and head lamps adorned the crowd and we set out on our "moderately easy" journey. After some confusion between the trail leaders as to where the trail head began, we finally began our ascent into the alps.

Now, mountains in Korea are different than any other mountain I've climbed. Many of the hikes I've done in the U.S. have been actual dirt or grass trails paved by continuous trekking. However, here in Korea, the trails often begin with stairs. LOTS of stairs. Steep stairs. Stairs that made you wish you had a bum like Suzanne Somers. As a cyclist, I'm used to the strain on my hamstrings and gluts, but nothing rips into your muscles more than climbing stairs. This is where our moderately easy hike shifted into a challenging hike.

With limited sleep, inadequate nutrition, pre-existing digestive conditions, and a lack of water, I felt as though I did not set myself up for success on this hike. My lack of preparation paired with a strenuous and challenging hike ahead, I felt as though I would die on top of the mountain that day.

My body had other plans than to die that day.

After we reached the first peak, my muscles had the opportunity to warm up; the adrenaline began to rush through my veins and shouted excitedly to my brain, "It's GO time." As my brain responded to the explosion of adrenaline, my legs pushed one after the other in an effortless way. Before I realized it, I passed the other hikers with great speed and suddenly, I found myself with the hardcore hikers near the front. Summit after summit, my body continued the fight and pushed with tenacity and fire. As I stood at the final peak, my heart raced, oxygen exploded into my lungs, and a great happiness filled my heart and warmed my cold, aching body.

A great peace overwhelmed my heart. As I stood there, looking into the tranquil vast unknown, I felt proud. I made it. I did it. I felt capable of anything. There is nothing greater [in my opinion] than to be standing on top of a mountain. Mountains are where I reach endorphin overload. My happiness pumps through my body and gives life to my soul. It is in the mountains where I reach a higher sense of awareness and my spirit roars. The mere accomplishment of the hike encouraged and lifted me into the clouds that danced around the peak we stood upon.

John Muir says its best, "Double happy, however, is the [wo]man to whom lofty mountain tops are within reach."

We spent 11 hours trekking through the Alps. The hike was first labeled as "moderately" easy but due to the weather, misread trails, and the amount of hikers in our group; it was nothing close to easy. Sure, there were many challenging feats throughout the day but with teamwork, we conquered them all.

Tranquility abound. Conversation shared. Friendships blossomed. Strength, peace, love, and community--all shared within the depths of the mountains and our souls. Adventure frolicked throughout the hills and inspired us all that day. There wasn't a task too difficult to achieve or accomplish. By the time we all collapsed on our bus, we felt like warriors.

Physical strength and inner strength combined; our body becomes a beautiful and powerful thing.

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go." 

                
               -- T.S. Eliot