Dispatch from the Morning Calm
by Melanie Hyo-In Han
For the first time in a long time, I got to stand in the shorter line at Arrivals, the one that was meant for “nationals.” Being greeted by the immigration officer who told me, “welcome home,” felt weird when Korea wasn’t quite “home” for me. My passport was handed back to me, and as I walked towards baggage claim, the fact that I’d left my “home” in Boston for good hit me like a ton of bricks.
25 years spent outside my motherland
and how do they expect me to fit in
overnight?
My two-week quarantine went by surprisingly fast, perhaps because my mind and body desperately needed rest from having said so many goodbyes, both to people and to places. For the first few days, I kept waking up at 3 AM and having a hard time staying up past 5 PM. The 13-hour time difference wasn’t helped by the fact that I had no self control when it came to taking naps, so it took me a full week and a half for me to adjust to my new time zone.
During this time, friends from back home in Boston and family in Korea kept me company by FaceTiming with me. I also binge-watched a lot of trashy T.V. I also started to work out inside my own tiny room because I was so bored. My most exciting moments came from the quarantine officer dropping off government supplies of food or cleaning items, and I felt like a kid opening Christmas presents each time I pulled out a new type of Korean snack or a different scent of soap.
By the time I was done with my two weeks of quarantine, I was actually quite grateful for the fact that I had time to mentally adjust to being in Korea, get used to the time zone, and have nothing to do. I got to wake up when I wanted to, eat what I wanted to (within the options that had been given to me by the quarantine officers), fly through dozens of Netflix shows, and waste hours and hours on social media without feeling (too) guilty.
As my freedom drew nearer and nearer, I started realizing that I had an anxious pit in my stomach. Did I want to start my new job only three days after getting out of quarantine? I kicked myself for not pushing my first day of work back by a week or two. What would it feel like to adult my way around Seoul? I had a hundred questions about phone plans, bank accounts, housing, metro passes, insurance. I didn’t feel ready to be pushed out of the comfort of my quarantine nest where I’d been warm, safe, and well-fed for the past two weeks.
my last year in the u.s.
didn’t go as planned
but then again
who could’ve predicted this pandemic?
nothing ever goes
according to plan anyway
time robbed
friends unseen
My first week out of quarantine was absolute hell. The commute to my workplace was long; even though the subway system in Korea was so much nicer than the Boston T that I’d been used to, I couldn’t believe just how many people could pack into one subway car during rush hour. I couldn’t control the direction of my body as I was left to the mercy of the flow of people traffic, and I couldn’t have fallen over even if I’d wanted to, considering I was being pressed from all directions.
My workplace was … interesting. I’d known for a long time that Koreans didn’t have much of a concept of work-life balance, but this was the first time I was experiencing this firsthand. I woke up each morning, dragged myself out of bed, worked for the whole day (oftentimes not being able to leave until way after my contractual departure time), then by the time I got home, I was too tired to make myself dinner - I spent hours lesson planning for the following day before falling into asleep, only to repeat the schedule again.
Everywhere I went, people seemed to know that I wasn’t Korean Korean. One afternoon, I walked into a store, and even before I said anything to the owner of the store, she said, “You’re from the U.S., aren’t you?” When I asked her how she knew, she said she could “just tell” that I wasn’t a real Korean.
I missed people from back home in Boston, felt out of place in a country where I looked like everyone else, and was worn out. How was I supposed to continue like this for the next … next however many years I’d end up in Korea?
Some homes, some
houses,
never
knowing
the houses
I lived
I was packing
unpacking,
readjusting
new places.
As of today, I’ve been in Korea for about a month and a half. I survived my first month at my new job, got a studio apartment much closer to my work, created better boundaries for myself, and made amazing friends. It’s weird to admit this, but I do feel like Korea has become a sort of “home” for me, even though it hasn’t been very long. I still think about Boston quite often, sometimes telling myself that “when I was in Boston, I did things in XYZ way,” or “in Boston, I used to XYZ.” But I think my mindset has shifted from “things are worse in Korea than in Boston” to “things are just different here.”
My initial adjustment period was rough but, thankfully, quite short, maybe due to the fact that I am Korean, regardless of how much I feel like I am (or am not) and I speak the language. Perhaps it was also good that I really hit the ground running in terms of diving into a new job, especially since that meant having to create routines and being forced to integrate into everyday life; it did also give me a chance to make wonderful friends.
trying once more and
another time and again
trying once more and
another time and again
And repeat.
And repeat.
Stop
forcing
fighting
struggling
Rather than fighting the flow of traffic on the crowded subway car, I’ve learnt to let my body just be pushed to and fro, balancing with other people who were also in my situation. I’ve come to love how public transportation here in Korea is so much more reliable than in the U.S., with the subway coming every 2-3 minutes and not making awful screeching noises around every corner.. I’ve had several exciting first-time experiences such as ordering something off of Coupang, which is similar to Amazon in the U.S., and being surprised by the fact that most things get delivered within 12 hours of ordering it.
New yet familiar, Korea has come to grow on me in the short amount of time I’ve been here. I’m sure I’ll continue to have ups and downs, but what seemed like an awful start at the beginning has taken a positive turn, for which I’m thankful. Maybe Korea will never fully feel like “home.” For now, though, having it feel “kinda like home” is enough for me. After all, a place doesn’t become a “home’ overnight (or over the course of a month and a half).
Sandpaper Tongue, Parchment Lips — Melanie’s first poetry chapbook — is available for pre-order.