It’s happening. I’m falling slowly but surely in love with Seoul. As it turns out, it’s happening while Tyler is away. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.
For the last week, I’ve relied on Tyler to get us from point A to point B. It hasn’t been until he left that the city has become “mine” as well.
When we talked about first impressions last week, I told him that the city was definitely comfortable, we’d have a really nice stay here… But that there was, so far, nothing magical about it – really cool and extremely technologically advanced to be sure, but no magic per se. For all of our frustrations with India, it was also a magical place, full of supreme highs and supreme lows – often in the same day before even lunchtime.
Korea’s not like that. There’s a subtlety to it.
We joke about the hallway in our guestroom. At first glance, it looks like just a hallway. But upon further inspection, there’s a full-sized fridge, freezer, stove, sink, and washing machine hidden away.
As I’m learning, that’s what the magic in Seoul is all about. It’s not an in-your-face magic like it is in India. Instead, the magic comes from walking down the same street a dozen times, but then discovering something amazing about it when you take the time to really look.
I spent yesterday afternoon taking myself on a date – strolling down the cute side streets of our greater neighborhood. Only this time, instead of noticing all the western brands, I became drawn to the more subtle shops, with the smaller signs that aren’t so in-your-face. That’s how I found what may now be my favorite mochi stand… I bought one mochi with fresh kiwi inside and another with a fresh strawberry that I slowly relish.
There’s something about the process of becoming independent in a city that makes you fall in love with it. I love now seeing patterns and snapping things together in my head. Instead of viewing independent consonants and vowels, I now see the pattern across the city that 삼성 is Samsung (and seeing the Korean vowels, realize we’ve been mispronouncing it this whole time: it should be “Sahm-sung”, instead of “Sam (like the name)-sung”. I’ve been navigating the subways on my own, and even the buses now. Taking a different walking route, I stumble onto the karaoke place we went last Saturday night, which makes the area we’re living in feel a lot smaller and more like home.
I stroll in and out of cute stores, buying myself a pretty nifty superhero ring (I better enjoy wearing it this week because I have a feeling Tyler won’t want to be seen in public with me wearing it!)
And I’m making my own friends. For the last week, I’ve been “Tyler’s wife”, which though it’s a true statement that I’m proud of, makes me antsy about forging my own identify here as well. The gender disparity is actually quite better than I had feared on a day-to-day level; at least waiters take my own order here (as opposed to places in India where waiters would ask Tyler what I wanted). And often when Tyler can’t quite communicate with someone, they look at me to help (due completely to the fact that I’m Asian, not that I speak any better Korean than he does!) But there are small things that take getting used to… like the fact that there are no joint bank accounts in Korea, so though I have my own ATM and debit card, it says Tyler’s name on it and not mine.
I heard that other Korean teachers have been teaching Samsung GSG spouses to call themselves “jubu”, or housewife, and I’m grateful that apparently our class has seemed to skip over that section. Instead, we’ve learned that “ahnay” is wife and “nampyeon” is husband, and learned that husbands do not say their wife’s name in public (our Korean teacher giggled when Tyler called me “Tricia-sa”, as we’ve been taught to call everyone in class). Instead, Tyler should call me “yobo”, which I thought meant “wife!” but later found out is a more endearing “darling” (After further digging, I learned that this word comes from the phrase “Yoboseyo”, which Koreans say when picking up the phone, which in turn comes from the words “Yogi Poseyo” which means, “Please look here!” So really when Tyler calls me “yobo”, it loosely means, “Hey! Pay attention!” Love this language!)
I met some new friends for lunch at a vegan (yes, vegan in Seoul!) restaurant called “Plant” yesterday in Itaewon. While they may be “jubu” to Koreans, they are in reality pretty amazing women: a PhD student, a civil engineer, and a contracting officer with Homeland Security with degrees from Harvard, Columbia, Duke, and U of T at Austin who are wives of Tyler’s new colleagues. After lunch, we stroll through the antique market, which has a surprising amount of Americana (think old Coke signs) – maybe from the American presence here in the Korean War? The woman who organized the lunch, Ashley, has been here for a month, so she brought us newcomers to the “Foreigner’s Market” (really, a large Indian market), which was great because it had hard-to-find lentils and coconut oil that some of us had been scavenging for (though a jug of coconut oil is $30 here! -- for anyone visiting or sending care packages, this is your official hint :) From the Itaewon neighborhood alone, I have a whole list of places that I want to show Tyler once he gets back from training – returning the favor of playing tour guide.
Empowered by navigating the city on my own, that night I head to Art of Living for meditation. They've sent me directions, but it all feels a bit like a scavenger hunt -- subway two stops, bus two stops, and then follow a map by matching symbols that, while semi-familiar, feel a bit like matching hieroglyphics at night when my concentration level is not as sharp as in the morning. The bus system itself feels a bit like playing bingo -- "Come on S-18 or S-21!" The goal is to find a coffee shop called Nu in an apparently otherwise nondescript building and head to the third floor. I'm convinced at some point, I'll just need to take a taxi, so my heart skips a beat when I turn a corner of a small alleyway and indeed see Coffee Nu!
I head to the third floor and meet Cecilia, who I later learn is the person who brought the Art of Living to Korea eleven years ago in 2003. She now lives in Hong Kong, and as luck would have it, is in Seoul for the next three days teaching an Art of Happiness course at the center. Again, a little dose of magic: While I thought I was going to the center for a regular meditation session, it turns out I'm actually joining the first day of the Art of Happiness program -- which is a course I've been wanting to take for a while. There are ten students, half of them Korean and the other half foreigners from the US, South Africa, and India.
Cecilia herself can't believe I got to the center on my own, and while I patted myself on my back climbing up the stairs, Cecilia takes it to a new level. Whenever someone comes in late, she announces (with a gentle smile) that Tricia-sa found the center and came on time -- and she's only been here a week! It's a bit embarrassing. She says that my ability to get there on my own is linked with focus, which in turn is linked with a clear mind through meditation... so she has me come up in front of the class to be the "model" meditator. I forgot how much attention we sometimes get as expats!
After the class, I stay at the center and meet the others. The two other Americans, Sonia and CJ, have each been living in Korea for 5+ years now; CJ talks about the family he's created through his friends here. I talk to Cecilia about what it was like starting the Art of Living in Seoul ("None of it was planned," she said, "It just happened.") As we hug good-bye, Cecilia says genuinely: "I see you" (which I take to be a form of Namaste: "the light in me sees the light in you")... Then without skipping a beat, she asks our marital status, noting with a big smile that she has an eligible son (clearly focuses on Sonia for that bit of information).
Sonia and I head back to the subway station together, and she shows me all her favorite neighborhoods on the subway map. We talk about our lives, families, and future plans. It feels nice to be seen. I'm looking forward to this community here.
As the “Artist’s Way” notes: “Our aim here is to find the trail, establish our footing, and begin the climb. The creative vistas that open will quickly excite you.” While not necessarily my intention when I started my day (bright and early!) yesterday, that’s exactly what I did – find my trail and start to establish my own footing. It reminds me of the Fun song that Tyler and I both like called “Carry On”. It goes: “If you’re lost and alone, or you’re sinking like a stone, carry on. May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground. Carry on.” My favorite line goes like this: “Whoa! My head is on fire. But my legs are fine – after all, they are mine.”
Since landing in Seoul, I’ve been so grateful for how much of a team Tyler and I have been together on this new adventure. While I wouldn’t have chosen for Tyler to be away for five days shortly after arriving, it’s helping me re-discover that my own legs are fine, after all, they are mine.
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PS: The Fun video of "Carry On" is a pretty awesome ode to NYC:
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