Please note that those who bore easily should skip the first two background paragraphs in order to cut to the action.
In the summer of 1998, I traveled to Seoul, South Korea for five weeks of intensive Korean language study at a local university. Though I had traveled through parts of Europe before and even spent a summer working in Mexico, Korea was a unique and wonderful experience for me. Before I begin my brief account of the journey, I must mention a few important points. Firstly, I was only nineteen at the time. Secondly, I am not of Korean descent. And thirdly, it was my first time travelling solo - that is to say, I had never planned and executed a trip entirely on my own without any travelling companion or contact in the country of my destination.
That said, many will wonder what prompted my trip to Korea (including those at the Korean consulate issuing my visa). While it is impossible to convey here all the thoughts and sentiments that cultivated my desire to visit Korea, the easiest explanation involves the Korean acquaintances I made while in boarding school who alerted me to the existence of the often overlooked "other" East Asian country with a rich culture, a fascinating and turbulent history and an impressive economic and political turnaround executed within my lifetime.
I found a youth hostel on the internet (NOT a member of any hostelling organization) and was swayed enough by the many personal testimonials on the web site to make a reservation there for my month-long stay. At $7 per night with satellite TV in the lounge area, free internet access and a central location literally steps from the subway line that comes from the airport, I found it to be quite a bargain. I never imagined how that decision would change my life. My classmates at the university were almost all (except for five out of 1,600) Korean-American and resided in the school dormitories. Many were forced by their parents to attend the program and few showed any real interest in being there. A notable example, one girl from L.A. would sleep during class, occasionally raising her head to interrupt the teacher's lecture by screaming "I hate this fucking place! I wanna go home!"
This brings up a crucial point: the vast majority of all foreigners in Korea were American, with most being either older military servicemen and backpacking English teachers or younger Korean-Americans. Hence, I was something of a novelty. I was an American, yet I was of non-Korean descent, young, possessed a keen interest in and knowledge of Korean culture and history, and dressed and behaved in a manner expected of young Koreans, not young Americans. The simple fact is that Korea is not a country for everybody. It has a very formal, codified, hierarchical culture that is anathema to most Americans. Most Americans I met were very uncomfortable with Korean culture. I recall in particular one young American who railed on and on against the practice of having to refer to any of his even slightly older (one year) peers as "older brother" and affording them the respect that went along with this title. In fact, the only Americans I met who were NOT uncomfortable with Korean culture were those who were merely passing through and had no particular relations with actual Koreans.
I had read extensively about this in my Lonely Planet guide before arriving in Korea and was prepared for extreme culture shock. It never happened. Seoul looks very westernized, having largely been constructed since 1970, but the culture really is quite foreign. What I had not anticipated, however, was my reaction. I simply "clicked" right in. In fact, I have never felt more comfortable in any other country I have visited. The secret to my success? When I set foot in a foreign land, I immediately enter "cultural assimilation mode." Koreans, who (I hate to say) possess a bit of a cultural inferiority complex as a result of being repeatedly colonized and later ignored in the international scene, responded with a tremendous outpouring of hospitality to my interest and deferential behavior. Accustomed to imperious and overbearing Americans who often demand things "their way," my hosts regarded me as a breath of fresh air. I immediately became friends with the owner of the hostel, a 27-year-old aspiring ceramic artist and computer whiz named Jake. Halfway through my stay, he launched into an anti-American tirade and I politely mentioned that though I was American, I realized my country people could be a bit irritating sometimes. Deeply chagrined, he apologized and told me that he had assumed I was European from my "behavior".
In addition, I formed a deep friendship with Jake's 23-year-old assistant, Kang, who came to tend the hostel for a few hours each day so that Jake could have some free time to go out. Over time, we grew more intimate, and after a couple of weeks Kang became my boyfriend. He introduced me to his circle of friends who immediately accepted me as one of their own, most not even knowing the nature of our relationship because of the Korean/Westerner taboo that exists in Korea. What a fascinating window into Korean life! Kang took me to dinner at his sister's house so that I could experience a Korean household. I was surrounded by fascinating, diverse individuals, both foreign travellers within the hostel and Kang's friends outside. My life had never been so rich and vibrant. When I looked at the airheads who surrounded me at school and imagined living with them there in their little microcosm, I knew I had made the right decision.
I strive for immersion in my travels. I like to remain in a given location until the blinding aura of exoticism has faded and my idea of normal has been redefined. If I stay in a place long enough to get bored, to take the once exotic for granted, to slip into a routine of daily life, then I have succeeded. My deepest desire in life is to travel the world, getting to know different versions of "normal." Before I went to Korea, adults often asked me what I hoped to gain from the experience, what concrete goals I wanted to fulfil. I always replied that I had no idea - and how could I? I hadn't gone yet. I simply knew that I had to go, and that doing so would change my life in ways I could not even begin to imagine.
Epilogue - Little did I know…Five months later, Kang and I are still together, though he quit his job at the hostel because it reminded him of me. He was a student at UC Sacramento here in the U.S. before the economic crisis; he thought he was going home for a break, but ended up staying to support his family. He has since found better paying work, and is planning to use part of his savings to return to the U.S. in the spring of 1999. We had already pledged to wait for each other for three years, at which point we would break up if I was not able to come to Korea (to teach English) nor he to the U.S.
Meanwhile, Lainie, my Australian English teacher pal from the hostel showed me how to go about landing a teaching position in Seoul. She left soon after I did to return to her former job in Vietnam, but got pregnant en route by a Thai man on a visa stop in Bangkok and is back in Australia contemplating her future. Jake, the owner of the hostel, is coming to New York to study English for a year. We have arranged to meet in February. Kim Sungbum, a mutual friend of both Kang and myself, is also coming to the U.S. next spring for a cross-country backpacking tour. He assures me that he has reserved a place on his agenda for visiting me. Funny how things work out, isn't it? That's the magic of travelling.
If you took the time to read this far, I send you my thanks. Good luck and happy travels.
Alexandra Ellsworth
aellesworth617@hotmail.com
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