2012: A Retrospective

A Primer:

A year ago, I did not think I would be back Stateside so soon. I had a plan, things were going well at my new job, and I still had money to save toward my goal of returning to school. But as the saying goes, “Man plans and God laughs,” and I find myself in a completely unforeseeable, but better, situation than I had planned.

I wrote, perhaps a bit prophetically, “There is some uncertainty on the horizon; EV has been bought out by a private company, and no one knows what changes will be made. But that is life. There are no guarantees.” English Village, it turns out, was not privatized, and while that dark cloud loomed on the horizon for the rest of my time there, it did not become a factor in my life. Instead, a seemingly random message from a friend, would.

The course of the year, not to mention my life, would be altered forever one late January night, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

Starting a New Year on a Roll:

The beginning of the new year swept by without much notice; we were too busy during winter V.I.P., one of two month-long intensive programs at English Village, to fully celebrate the holiday. It was winter in Korea, and when we weren’t exhausted from the program schedule, we were doing our best to stay warm in our tiny apartments.

Though I had only been at EV for half a year, I was already much more comfortable there than I had been at my previous job. The hours were much better, the work was much better, and my social life was exponentially better. Life was even better for my dog. Most importantly, I felt like I had become part of a community, because I had. I was given the latitude to help improve our school, if only in small ways. The little bits of input, from lesson ideas to closing ceremony videos, made me feel like my work had meaning. I was contributing a great deal, and wanted to continue to play a larger role at the school.

Soon after V.I.P. ended, I went on a “booze cruise” with three coworkers, Mike, the energetic Texan; Abby, the loquacious Kiwi; and Anthony, the soft-spoken, but humorous Aussie. The night, while fun, was largely forgettable, spare for a brief spat over the cab ride home between Mike and Anthony. Anthony thought Mike had agreed on too high of a price, and would not drop the issue.

I staggered back into my small, studio apartment, and found a shocking message waiting for me on Facebook. It was from Christine, a Danish couchsurfer whom I had hosted nine months prior. She wrote in a completely casual way, the way one might ask to grab a drink or catch a movie, “Hey – wanna go to India in April? (smiley face)” While the invitation was not unprecedented–we had briefly discussed going to the Philippines together over the previous summer–it was out of the blue. I hadn’t spoken to her in several months. Well, maybe it was the alcohol, though I’m sure my lingering crush on her had a part to play, but regardless, I replied, “The short answer is yes, the long answer is hell yes.”

I was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Christine again. She was one of my all-time favorite couchsurfers. During her brief stay with me in Seoul, our chemistry was clear straight away, as we spent night after night talking about everything and nothing at all. I enjoy most hosting experiences with couchsurfers, but I was legitimately disappointed to see her go on the last day.

India had been high on my “To do” list, and I couldn’t imagine better company for the trip. I had no way of knowing it, but that quick, half-drunk, back-and-forth would ultimately lead to big changes down the line.

However, India and Christine would have to wait, my life at English Village was really picking up steam. Within the next few weeks, I was promoted to lead the cooking content area at our school. The promotion, done by election from other cooking teachers, was a very proud moment for me. Just as I was starting to get comfortable in my new gig, it was time for a much needed vacation.

India:

The weeks slowly ticked by as I anxiously awaited my reunion with Christine. A million thoughts circulated through my brain as I thought I about our friendship, and potentially more. I wondered if the flirtations in Seoul would evolve into more, or if she saw me as “just a friend,” a man to keep her safe in an unpredictable, wild, and potentially dangerous country.

We were reunited in a hostel in Delhi. The initial awkwardness quickly wore off, but it took several days to reestablish the same connection we had felt in Seoul. Perhaps it was the jet lag, or perhaps the stress of traveling in India was distracting, but we didn’t have the same chemistry until the first night in the city of Khajuraho. We sat down for a nice dinner on a rooftop restaurant, and we were talking and laughing just like we had over beers in my apartment a year ago.

India is a wonderful, but very intense place to travel. The senses are under constant bombardment; the sights, sounds, and smells can be overwhelming at times, and all of this comes during midday temperatures of over 40 degrees Celsius. We really had to have each others’ backs, and our mantra became, “It’s us against India.” Trust was implicit, and intimacy (in the strictly platonic sense of the word) grew.

When we reached the Himalayan town of Darjeeling, the mysterious puzzle pieces of love, the intangible chemistry that finds us when we least expect it, started to come together. We had been steadily growing closer as friends, we survived the full, stressful day of travel from Varanasi, largely in a crowded train, the temperature was a pleasant 20 degrees (C), the mountain vistas were breathtaking, and we both knew this was our last stop before parting ways at the end of the week. After checking in and eating a late breakfast at the amazing restaurant, Sonam’s Kitchen, we headed over to the zoo. It was small, but had an impressive selection of animals. There were more red pandas than I’ve ever seen in one location, and they had a truly impressive Bengal tiger. At one point, we sat down on a bench, sun shining in our faces, and looked out into the shrouded hills beyond. Christine leaned in and I put my arm gently around her. She rested her head on my shoulder and we stayed that way for a good twenty minutes. I would have been content to stay that way until the sun had set and the stars  had made their nightly return.

We moved on from the zoo and found a bar–a true rarity in India. Christine was thrilled to see Tuborg, a Danish brew, on the menu, so we sat and shared a couple of beers. Romance was in the air, flirtations ran amok, and when we reached the hotel room, we shared a long-awaited kiss.

Our time in Darjeeling left an impression, and while my brain told me that nothing more could come of our vacation romance, my heart wanted more.

When we said our goodbyes in the Delhi airport, I managed to hold back my tears, but only briefly. In a daze, I got a small hotel room inside the airport (my flight was later that night), sat down on the bed, and cried harder than I had in years. I was thrilled to have these feelings again, but deeply upset by the realization that Christine was out of my life, possibly (or probably) forever.

The flight back to Seoul could not come soon enough. More tears would come and go sporadically, and after two long flights and a longer layover in Shanghai, I limped into Seoul, physically and emotionally drained.

They say India changes you. I felt changed, but it would take months to fully grasp those implications.

Turbulent Times:

To say I missed Christine is an understatement. Without her, the world lost its vibrancy. Colors dimmed, music muted, and tastes became bland. I tried to keep things going with her, but she didn’t share my romantic vision of continuing a long-distance romance. Her pragmatism won out, and I tried to move on.

I was heartbroken, but life and work in Korea had been very good to me prior to my vacation. That luck, too, would come to an abrupt end. When it rains, it pours.

Before leaving, I had appointed another teacher to lead our department, the teacher I had previously beaten out for the position. It was intended to be a gesture of good faith and bridge building. This teacher took it as an opportunity to torpedo my career at English Village. In a mere two weeks, he managed to undo nearly a year of my hard work. He convinced Admin and the Head Teacher that the rat problem that had been going on for years was somehow my fault. This “problem” had never been a problem under my predecessors, and the rats remained there when this other teacher took my job for good. Regardless, I was out, and out of the cooking content area altogether.

My sense of injustice was extreme. I couldn’t believe that someone would be so deceiving and malicious. Despite feeling hard done by, I still felt like a pariah, and isolated from the English Village community that I had felt so comfortable in just a few weeks ago.

Looking back, I can see that some good came out of this unjustified demotion. For one, I quickly learned who my true friends were. When the news spread, and it spread quickly, my friends, namely Abby and Michael, were there to share a good scotch and commiserate. And just when I felt the lowest, the weekend Head Teacher, Shannon, took me aside and offered me much-needed words of encouragement. She told me that this would soon been forgotten, and to keep working hard. Thinking back, her gesture still makes my heart swell with pride. She didn’t have to talk to me, but she went out of her way to do the right thing. It helped me carry on.

A Change of Plans:

Spring became summer, and as the hot, humid summer wore on, I continued to struggle with my new predicament at work.

Furthermore, I continued to struggle with the pesky emotions from Christine. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get over her. I tried to date other girls, but it just wasn’t right. Finally, one night in July, I did the one thing that I absolutely shouldn’t have done, sent her a drunk Facebook message. Somehow, against all reason, it worked. She replied, also after a bit to drink, and invited me to travel South America with her. At least we were on the same page.

This time, things were a bit more complicated, both logistically and emotionally. I didn’t know how much time I would be able to get off work, and I didn’t know if I would just be chasing after the unattainable again. We talked, and I told her that I wanted to pick up where we left off in India. She said she couldn’t promise anything. Our relationship, or whatever it was, was up in the air, but I knew that every time we were together, our chemistry produced a result that I had never experienced before. I had to see what, if anything, would come of it.

I was determined to see Christine again, but I still had the matter of getting the time off work. Despite lengthy conversations with and promises from the HR Director, I was unable to secure the necessary vacation time. My time was never officially rejected, but it was never approved. I started to fantasize HR rejecting my vacation request so I could quit; at this point, I knew it was time to move on. I had a choice to make: quit and travel, or stay, continue to work and save money, and give up on Christine, probably forever. The latter was simply a choice that I could not make.

My last two months sped by with surprising pace. I longed for Christine, and laid in bed at night imagining every possible iteration of our upcoming trip. What if we fell in love and moved off together? What if she completely lost interest, and we separated mid-trip? What if I’m in the exact same spot, sans job, three months hence? I tried to tell myself to relax, to let life happen, to enjoy it, to stop worrying, and to keep my expectations in check. Of course, my imagination continued to run wild, with each sunrise bringing fantasy and reality ever closer together.

My last day at English Village arrived with its usual fanfare. I gave my going away speech, set to The Clash’s “Death or Glory,” and walked through the guard of honor. Despite the last few months of trying times, I really enjoyed my time at EV, and I took away great memories and friendships.

Worth the Risk:

When I made my choice to leave, I wrote an intentionally ambiguous blog piece titled “What are the Odds?” I concluded the piece by writing:

Poker has been compared to war: hours of boredom followed by moments of sheer terror. The same can sometimes be said for life, but instead of hours of boredom, it’s days, months, and sometimes even years. My Korean life has not been boring, but I am still facing one of those “all in” moments. Do I give up my stable Korean life, for something potentially greater?

The “something potentially greater” that I alluded to was a relationship with Christine. I knew the possibility was there, and I knew that I was emotionally ready to leave behind the singles dating world for something more, if she would have me.

Any fears that I had made the wrong choice of leaving my job for Christine quickly evaporated when we met at the American Museum of Natural History in New York. Unlike the first few awkward days in India, we started right back where we left off. Later, she would admit that she wanted to kiss me right there in the museum, underneath the giant blue whale, but decided against it for fear of being cliché.

Somehow, our love grew faster, and our trip went better than I could have possibly imagined. We were a team. The good times were great, and the bad times only brought us closer together. For me, it was a confirmation. For Christine, it was a revelation.

As our trip drew to a close, we had another tearful goodbye, though this time was different than the last. While my immediate future was uncertain, my future with Christine was not. We will find a way to get back in each others’ arms, and it’ll be sooner rather than later. There are many decisions ahead of us, the one of where to live being foremost among them. Despite the uncertainty, I’m quietly confident about my current life trajectory. When I’m with her, I feel like I can conquer the world, so we’ll go forward and do exactly that.

If there’s a moral to this year, it’s this: you have to put yourself in a position to allow good things to happen to you. I could never take a risk on Christine if I hadn’t first built up a safety net, or if I had been too risk averse. We can spend our lives playing it safe, but that’s not much of a life. We can spend our lives taking great risks, but that makes it impossible to build toward any specific goals. I found myself on the middle path this year, and 2013 will be much more interesting because of it.