Day 7: One week!!

Day 7
Saturday June 21st

When I travel, I like to go to a city, walk around, grab a drink at the bar, chat with some locals and have them tell me what to do, see, eat and drink. I like to play it by ear and have no set plans. I don't have fear of getting lost because there's always a subway or a taxi as long as I know the address of where I'm staying.

This trip was really different because it was entirely planned, minute by minute. Those plans often changed but I was not in control of them at all. Even though it's totally opposite to my style of travel I have no complaints about it.

The trip organizers gave us a taste of everything over the 2 weeks. We saw the city, we saw the ocean. We stayed with families, we stayed in nice resorts, we stayed in modest accommodations. We ate fancy things, we ate local things, we ate pizza and chicken things, we ate bugs, we ate live things, we ate Chinese food. We saw mountains, we saw temples, we saw the beach, we saw palaces, we saw museums, we saw orphanages, we went to church, we went to karaoke. WE DID IT ALL.
(That of course is an exaggeration because I could tell you a list a mile long of things I wish I could have done but didn't have the time. There's always next time!)

On Saturday, we went to a Korean folk village in Yongsan. This is the kind of tourist attraction I usually shy away from. I'm not really interested in history and the American equivalent makes me yawn. But- being present with an open heart and open mind, I went in with no preconceptions, and it was a great experience. I learned a lot and had a lot of fun.

We toured a faux folk village. We watched a tight rope walker do tricks with no net. We watched horseback riders do tricks on horses (though, our guide told us that because it's so difficult and dangerous- the folk village brings in Mongolian horseback riders to put on the show). We watched a traditional marriage ceremony that we thought was going to be fake but ended up being a real couple getting married and everyone could watch. Last there was my favorite- the Korean drummers and dancers. It was magical to watch them move. It put me in a total trance. I didn't want it to end.

Me riding a traditional broom at the folk village- 

symbolic foreshadowing for my crabby attitude later that day?

After the folk village, they dropped us off at Namdaemun Market. We split off into groups to go shopping and then plan was that we were on our own until our curfew at 11pm at the hotel.

I was really excited to get some gift shopping in but the market wasn't what I expected it to be- or maybe I was exploring the wrong part of it. The part I was in was stall after stall of cheap looking clothes, hand bags, sunglasses, and socks.

We were also trying to keep together a group of 6 or 7 in a crowded market. This grew tiresome. The streets in Seoul are hard to read- sometimes they aren't even marked. None of us had cell phones that worked. None of us spoke the language. And even to name a store or coffee shop was dangerous because there were similar shops every few blocks. Everyone wanted to shop for something different and we stopped every 2 stalls or so because one of us wanted to look at something.

I'll be honest- I got a little crabby. I am used to travelling in small groups and with people who know how to navigate big cities. If we get split up, we do our own thing until we meet back at the hostel or the universe brings us back together at some point, as long as no one panics.

We decided to leave Namdaemun for another part of the city. I really wanted to go to Hongdae- it's like the artsy, hisptery neighborhood in Seoul but no one else did because they were all staying on a few days after the trip and their hostel was in Hongdae after the trip ended.

We ended up going to Gangnam and eating dinner and then going to a bar. Some of the others went window shopping around the area. We taught the Korean translator that was with us how to play 'Never Have I Ever" over some beers. It was solid.

Korean Drummers and Dancers

At many times during my trip, I felt a sense of pride in being Korean I'd never felt before.

Watching these drummers and dancers was one of those moments.

There were drummers, all male, and a woman playing an wind instrument- I'm not sure what it's called.

The men wore hats with a knob and a long white ribbon. By manipulating their heads with subtle movements, they were able to control the ribbon's movement. They also danced and drummed at the same time. It was magical. I didn't want it to end.

Day 6: The hardest day, file review and visiting the orphanage

Day 6
Friday June 20th

This was the day I was waiting for. This was the day of my birth file review. 
This was the day that was responsible for 80% of my anxiety surrounding this trip.

I'll start by telling you what I know (I went over it briefly in a previous post). The story that was told to me since I was a baby.

My mother's name was Park Hak-Ja. She was 22 years old and grew up in Boseong-gun (which, my host family told me, is an area of Korea that grows tea). My father and mother went to high school together. Her father died when she was in middle school and she had 2 brothers she helped take care of. She moved to Busan and lived with my father before he joined the military. She didn't realize she was pregnant until she was 7 months along due to menstrual irregularity. Without finincial ability, she gave me up for adoption.

Birth Mother: 160 cm tall, average build, white skin, oval face, big eyes, high nose, introverted, decisive, strong willed and responsible.
Birth Father: 172 cm tall, average build, olive skin, round face, big features, good looking, cheerful, and sociable.

After being released into the care of SWS (Social Welfare Society), at a week old I was moved to from Busan to Seoul. I stayed in the orphanage until I was 3 months old due to being failure to thrive. I was with a foster home for 1 month before coming to the US.

These were photos that I had: Left- 1 month old, Right-3 months old. 

Before our birth file review, we took a cooking class. We made bibimbap and bulgogi. I couldn't eat because I was nervous about the file review. 

One other boy from my group was adopted through SWS. We went to the agency together and were accompanied by 2 Korean men from our group and one former Journey member. 

We were greeted by 2 young women who were social workers. We went into separate rooms to review our files. The woman said that she was there to answer any questions I had. 

Inside the folder were letters from my mom (in the US) about my development and transition to living at home in New York and the paper work I already had in English. There was a small envelope of photos. My heart raced in hope that there would be a photo of my mother. There were no photos of my mother but there were photos of myself that I had never seen before. 

Again, Left: 1 month old, Right: 3-4 months old (my passport photos)

I didn't realize how much I had hoped for a photo of my mother until I was at the agency and found out there wasn't one. It's funny how that works. If you would have asked me, "Do you think there is a photo of your mother in your birth file?" I probably would have answered, "No, that's unlikely." But in reality, I was holding a little candle that it was in there- hoping that there was something in there that I didn't know that helped fill in my story.

I asked the woman for my paper work in Korean. She replied that it is the same as my paperwork in English. I asked her to bring the copies of the Korean paperwork. She said again, "They are just notes. Notes to be translated into English." I told her I understood that but I still wanted them. She left the room and came back with photo copies of the paperwork for me to take home. 

Immediately I saw differences between the two papers. 

See: Left: All Unknown, Right: Information with a giant X

The information under the giant X is nothing crucial. It says my father's age, his place of birth, his occupation and how many siblings he has- but it's something. It makes him more human. It also confirms some information from the birth interview with my mother. 

I made sure that my birth date was my birth date. I was born in the maternity clinic that my mother had given me up for adoption at. The woman informed me that Maternity Clinics are a thing of the past. They aren't open now but were common back then. At that point I realized, SWS was the middle man. My mother was at a maternity clinic, gave birth and gave me up for adoption, then I went to SWS's orphanage. Even if my mother had left anything for me- a photo, a letter- it wouldn't make sense to push SWS for it. The maternity clinic is gone so I can't go back to there to look for more information- what SWS has is what they have.

I didn't waste my time having her translate the rest. She was only going to tell me things she wanted me know anyways. I took the copies of the paperwork so I can have someone I trust translate them for me. 

(Later on on the trip, I had our translator read me the birth interview with my mother. It was an almost direct translation of the English version so that made me feel at ease.) 

After the birth file review, the social worker took me and my group mate to the orphanage. We couldn't hold the babies. We could only look. 

This was the hardest part. There were 2 rooms. One for small babies and one for older babies...maybe up to 6-12 months. 

For the small babies, newborn to 3 months- all the babies, maybe 10, were swaddled. 2 women were in the room looking after them. They were either lying in their bed, which was like a shallow plastic box (like you see newborns in at the hospital) or in a swing. A woman would pick one up for less than 5 minutes and put them back down. Even while they were being fed, the babies lay on their back with their bottle being propped up by a towel. 

For the older babies, it was a series of cribs, again, maybe 10-15, and a wall of swings. There were 4 people moving about the room. Some babies in swings but most babies sitting or standing in their crib. The room had one window that was heavily frosted over so you couldn't see out.

I asked the social worker, "Is there another room? A play room? Where the babies can move around?"

She answered, "No. Only these two rooms. Sometimes the volunteers take them outside, around the block, but not everyday." This killed me. 

Having been a nanny for so long, I have worked with babies as young as 2 months old. I hold them, sing to them, take them on long walks, talk to them, even though they can't crawl or roll- they're arms and legs are free to move, they have tummy time to strengthen their muscles. To imagine these babies, to imagine myself for 3 months, without sunlight, without constant attention and love, was too much to take in. 

Josh, the former Journey member who accompanied me on the trip, was so kind. He told me how he's volunteered at the orphanages on past trips and we talked about the hope that these babies have for a better life that awaits them. I couldn't stay in the orphanage for too long. We all left and walked around the streets for a bit to clear our minds. 

It was a tough day. That night we all came back together and had a feast of galbi and pork. I was glad to return to the group. You could see in everyone's faces- we were emotionally exhausted. We all got a little bit more information than we had before- some through text, some through photos. No one had any big shock or revelation. We all looked forward to moving on. 

Day 5: Sightseeing Extravaganza

Day 5 
Thursday June 19th

We saw a lot on this day.

We started at the National Museum of Seoul in Yongsan. It was beautiful. Lots of art and artifacts. Our tour guide was sweet and made really intense eye contact while she was giving the tour which helped me stay engaged in what she was saying. She talked a lot about the different dynasties and the impact of Confucianism and Buddhism on the history of Korea. These Buddhas were breath taking. I was in awe at their size.

Next stop was Changdeokgung, a palace in Seoul.

Last stop was N. Seoul Tower. Seoul was the biggest city I have ever been in. It sprawls for miles and miles. It's unlike New York, London, or Seattle because it is street after street of business upon business. I have never seen anything like it. N. Seoul tower reminded me a lot of the Space Needle but it was high on a hill so you could get excellent views. They also have this crazy elevator and shoots you up and down the tower super fast. 

Inside the top of the tower, there were all kinds of souvenirs. These were some gummy chicken feet I bought. They tasted like cherry :)

After leaving the tower, we went to our hotel. We all went out for dinner to get "Chicken things," this was our guides way of saying, "We're eating friend chicken tonight." We also shared some ginseng chicken soup that Korea is famous for. I was excited to try it...and of course beer and soju.

It was the first night we could let loose, have a few drinks, chill with some Koreans, and bond with each other. It was great. I really needed a night to let off some steam and relax. Everyone was surprised because by the end of the night, I was standing on the couch at karaoke singing "Always Be My Baby," by Mariah Carey. This surprises no one at home, but on the trip, I was pretty guarded, organized, and quiet. It's funny how different experiences give people different impressions of who we are.

In some ways, we all bonded instantly because we had to- we were a group, travelling together in a foreign country. We relied on each other because none of us spoke the language and we had the common bond that we're all adopted. On the other hand, we were all different people, from different places, processing the same event in totally different ways. It was important to recognize and respect that as well.

That night we returned to the hotel. Emotions were on high because the next day we were doing birth file reviews at our adoption agencies and some of us were going to the orphanage. We all sat together in one room, let down our guard, and cried and shared our hopes and fears for the following day and the trip as a whole. We shared our experiences of being adopted and growing up different. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced.
I will always be grateful to the members of my trip for allowing us all to share the grief we hid for so long and for opening our hearts and minds to the unknown. We all grew by leaps and bounds on this trip.

It was NOT a vacation. It was exactly what it was called: a Journey. 

Day 4: Etiquette Class

Day 4
Wednesday June 18th

I woke up extra early to watch the Korean World Cup game with my host family. My mother cooked a great breakfast and then we all sat on the floor to watch the game. The mother wrapped her arms around her 19 year old son and he playfully shook her off, but it was very sweet.
Watching moments like that, between Korean families was always a little hard to see- achingly beautiful. Mothers holding babies on the subway. A line of mothers showering their children in the sauna while chatting back and forth like songbirds. It makes you go, "Is that what it would be like?"

Later we met at Seoul National University- founded in 1946. It is the best university in Korea. We had a tour guide there that spoke great English! She had lunch with us and then took us to this adorable coffee shop. I treated her to coffee and she treated us to Egg Tarts. I wish I had more time to spend with her. She was so sweet!

After the University, we went to Etiquette Academy. We dressed in hanboks. Jen and Martine got to be brides! Axel and Tim got to be grooms! 

We learned traditional bows, traditional tea ceremony, mask dancing, calligraphy and how to make rice cakes. 

I've always wondered how Korean rice cakes were made. I learned that it is just cooked rice that you beat with a large hammer until it's gooey. Mystery solved. 

When I returned to my home stay house, we had dinner together and walked around Sillium Station. It was a series of small streets with bars, restaurants, and stores. They took me to a store called Art Box that I could have curled up and lived inside forever. It was all make up and jewelry and cutesy stationary and pens. 

Near my house there is a long division in the street. It is a river and a walking and biking path. My family told me it is totally safe to walk on at night. You can cross to the other side using the stepping stones seen here. There was even a family camping down there at night when we walked by. Also by the river, there were mechanical exercise machines see here. People we using them when we walked by at 9:30pm. They're all around the city. 5-8 different exercise machines. They were clean and fully functional. It was awesome. I asked where all the homeless people were and I didn't get a clear answer. They said that they were in a different part of town where nuns gave them food 2-3 times a day. I don't think they understood how prevalent homelessness is in the US or I didn't understand how the homeless population stayed in one part of the city. Korea not having drugs probably helps a lot. But how do they control their drug problems so well?  

At 10pm, my other host brother came home from school. We ate fried chicken on the floor and I gave them their gifts I brought from the US. Kiehl's products and Theo Chocolate! They were very happy :) 

Days 3: The case of the $50 underwear.

Day 3

Tuesday June 17th

On Tuesday we went to the Blue House, Cheong Wa Dae. This is their equivalent of the White House. The grounds were beautiful. 

After touring the Blue House, we split off into 2 groups. One group went to Insadong- a tradtional looking Korean shopping area while the other group went to Apujeong Station. 

In Korea, you can get these awesome perms called 'digital perms.' Sometimes they're called settings. They don't make your hair into tight curls like regular perms- they give you loose ringlets or waves just at the bottom. It looked super fly but I didn't end up getting one. 

Day 3 I had a close to a total melt down- but in the end, had to laugh at myself..

I had to buy new underoos that afternoon due to a series of unfortunate events. Don't get the wrong idea- nothing obscene but it was important to buy new underoos and it had to be that afternoon. 

I walked in and out of many clothing stores. They had ridiculous t-shirts with English writing that make English speakers think, "I'm not sure that is what you want to say." Examples: "Do Not Enter." and "Why is you so fussy?"- but no underoos. 

But alas, I see a Victoria's Secret! Aha! I go inside and see a pair I like. I look at the price tag. 

Converting Korean Won to US Dollars is easy. 1,000 won= 1 US Dollar. 

I am thinking, "Wow $4.80? That's kind of low but maybe they're cheaper here." 

I was wrong. 

I go up to the cashier and hand her the underoos. 

She looks at me and immediately starts speaking English. 

"This is your size? Small?" She says to me with disbelief. 

"Yup." 

"Hmm, ok..." she looks at me again with a quizzical look, "That will be $48." 

I clear my throat and dig deeper into my purse. 

"It is more expensive here because we do not have many stores," she says. 

I try to play it off like, "Oh, no problem. $48??? That's a steal!" 

I can't back out now. In her eyes, I am the dumb American who doesn't speak Korean and is spending $48 on underwear I am too fat for. I have to commit. 

I leave the store and find the nearest Starbucks. A sign of home. Anything to reconnect me to the idea that I am not an incompetent douche bag. 

Inside the bathroom there was a woman basically acting like the Starbucks restroom was her own personal dressing room...I'm not sure what was going on there- but she says to me, "Hi! Where are you from? Are you Japanese?" 

No goddammit, I'm Korean...I came to this country to finally be in a sea of people who look like me, to finally blend in, and I'm sticking out like a sore thumb. 

She was very sweet. She ended up telling me she owned an American restaurant down the street that sold pizza and pasta. I asked the name of the restaurant and she didn't know but wanted to give me the phone number...I think something got lost in translation. 

After that, I ended up going back to the hair salon, one of the girls couldn't get her hair done. The people at the hairdresser told her they couldn't perm her hair because it was dyed. 

We had both had frustrating days so we went for a beer. We walked down the street and ended up at a place called "The Coreanos" by accident. I realized I accidentally chose the MOST American restaurant I could find in the neighborhood. It was a bunch of hot dudes from LA serving tex mex. Whatever. I had a beer, new underoos, and bonded with my friend. 

Life is weird. 

That night I went home to my homestay family. 

I hung out with my host brother who was 24. We had bulgogi and bean sprout soup and soju. 

After dinner, we drove out to where my host mother worked. 

This shopping cart measures how far you've walked and how many calories you have burned. 

The other photo is of the American Food aisle at their grocery store. As you can see, it is Mexican food, chocolate syrup, jam, Campbell's soup, and maple syrup. Yes kids, only the healthy stuff. 

After getting home, my host father made dessert. 

Here is the recipe: 

1/2 watermelon scooped out in chunks with a spoon 

1 liter of sprite

sugar

ice

Mix in a big bowl and eat it like soup. 

It was a heavenly way to end a weird, weird day. 

Let's start at the very beginning- a very good place to start.

My first two photos in Seoul. 

Day 1

I left Seattle on Saturday June 14th at 12:18pm and arrived in Seoul on Sunday June 15th at 3:35pm. 

My friend dropped me at the airport after a morning of checking and double checking what I had packed. After checking in, going through security, and finding my gate, I called my parents and I started to cry. Big, runny nose, puffy eyed sobs. It was the release I needed after 2 weeks of panicking about this trip. 

My parents were so supportive and careful with their words. They told me they were there for me and that they had read the blog I wrote and that it gave them a greater understanding about what being adopted meant to me. Those were the best words I could have heard before boarding the plane. 

The flight was a 10 hour direct flight from Seattle. Flying direct was such a lifesaver. Once I was on the plane, I had no fear I'd miss a connection or that they'd lose my baggage. I flew Delta and have no complaints. They fed us well and had a great selection of entertainment. I didn't sleep on the plane in order to adjust to the time change better. It worked out for me but Saturday/Sunday was a long day. 

After landing in Korea, customs was easy and I met up with my group. Two boys had arrived on earlier flights. They took us out to a restaurant near the water. We had a seafood soup with big thick noodles. It was a tiny restaurant with floor seating and windows looking out on the water. 

After arriving at the hotel, all the group members finally got to meet. We ranged in age from 18-34. 4 men and 7 women. 4 countries- US, Sweden, The Netherlands, and Australia. We all had different jobs, different backgrounds, different relationships back home. Despite all our differences, we did a great job of supporting each other and enjoying each other over the two weeks. 

Day 2

Monday, June 16th

After breakfast, we traveled to Gimpo to see Aegibong Peak. This was on a Korean Marine base that over looked North Korea. 

This is the very, very handsome Marine who explained the history of Aegibong to us. Swooooon.

I couldn't take any photos looking towards North Korea, but I will tell you, it was fascinating. 

North Korea was less than a mile away with only a river separating us. If you put coins in a view finder, you could look across to the other side with more detail. On the North Korean side, they built a fake village to try and show to South Korea that their people were ok. They force something like 200 people to live there. 

After putting coins in the viewfinder, I could see 3 people walking around in the village. 

It was so crazy to think that they were so close and so far away at the same time. 

After leaving my very handsome marine at the base, (I was informed I was NOT allowed to take him with me...) we had lunch at a small restaurant. I had Korean cold noodle called Naeng Myun. It is one of my favorite Korean foods. It's buckwheat noodles in a cold broth with cucumber and pear and egg- seasoned with vinegar and mustard. It is traditionally served in the summertime. 

After lunch, we drove back to Seoul to be a part of the opening ceremony. We were welcomed by the company that brought us to Seoul. After the ceremony, we were sent home with our host families to spend 3 nights with them. 

Everyone had very different experiences with their host families. Mine was a perfect fit for the experience I wanted to have. My only regret was that I didn't speak more Korean. 

I was with a husband and wife that had 2 sons: ages 19 and 24. 

The husband worked for the company that sponsored the trip- as a director of printing, and the wife worked at Home Plus- a large Korean grocery store. The two boys were in school. One in high school and one in college. 

The boy in high school went to school from 8am-10pm everyday. 8AM TO 10PM! Can you believe that????? 

The boy in college was studying engineering. 

On the way home from the welcoming ceremony, we picked up Andrew, a former Journey member that is now living in Seoul. Having him at dinner that night was a blessing. He had done a 2 year language intensive in Korea so he acted as a translator for me and my host father. I was able to express my gratitude to my host father and explain my feelings toward the trip more articulately because of Andrew. 

Also with the help of Andrew's translating, I learned that my host father wanted to give me an authentic window into Korean daily life. 

They cooked me traditional foods. 

He and his wife both worked hard, often having opposite schedules.

They had a nice, yet modest apartment, in an interesting part of Seoul. 

Both sons worked hard at school. 

They woke up early (6 or 7am) and went to bed late (1 or 2am), with very little sleep. 

They spent a lot of time together- enjoying each other's company. 

That was what I wanted to see. What might my life look like if I had stayed in Korea? 

It was sweet to see how close they were. 

Unearthing the past.

 Today is the day of my birth file review. I am scared and excited.

I drew this picture this morning to remind myself that I have come a long way from where I started.

It says" Deep inside, resting dormantly, I've had a box labeled 'KOREA.' This held all my feelings about being adopted, being different, being abandoned, being Korean. Only sometimes did I realize it was there. "Why is your face so flat?" "Your mother didn't want you?" "I'm sorry. Your birth mother falsified some information. We cannot find her.""

"This trip is about opening that box without fear and discovering what is inside, holding it with peace, and maybe not learning the whole truth, but knowing my own."

Our guide says we can request photocopies of our paper work to translate it ourselves later. 

This is the most emotional day for everyone in the group. Glad I'm with others going through the same thing.

Korea So Far...

Sorry- this is a really generic post about what I've been up to because I'm typing it on my phone.
It's my 4th day in Korea!

Day 1: 10 hr flight. Easy time through customs. They took us to a restaurant that sold this hot seafood noodle soup. It was great. I got in at 5pm but we waited at the restaurant while the others went to go get more people at the airport. Didn't get to the hotel until 10pm. I was exhausted. That night we met everyone and introduced ourselves.

Day 2 Up early. Exchanged money at the bank. Went to the DMZ. Saw North Korea from across the river. In the 80s, the N. Koreans built a fake village across the river to show S. Korea the people were OK. They force 300 people to live there. Through a telescope, I could see people walking around. They were less than a mile and a half away from me- from freedom, can u imagine? Also, the Korean marines were SO handsome :)
We had cold noodle for lunch and then went back to the city and met our host families. My host family is nice. Only the dad was home the first night. He doesn't speak a lot of English but he tries really hard and I feel bad for not speaking better. He had a friend, a young man who did the same program I am in 3 years ago, come to dinner and translate. He lives in Korea now. It was very helpful.

Day 3
We took the subway to meet up with my group. Then we went to their version of The White House called The Blue House, because of its tiled roof. Then we had lunch and then I walked around Gangnam district. I met up with my host father and we came home and had dinner with his oldest son who speaks English pretty well. Then we went to their version of Costco where his wife works. We came home and had dessert- watermelon cut up with Sprite and sugar on top, like watermelon soup. It was so refreshing because it was so cold!!!

Day 4
I am up early to watch the Korea vs Russia game with my host brothers. Later, I will go to Seoul University and then take a Korean etiquette course.

Can't wait to share in more detail.

Xoxo

Birth File Review

The thing I am looking forward to the most on my trip, but also what is causing me the most stress, is our trip to the adoption agency to do a birth file review.

I have my adoption paperwork in English, but we are doing file reviews of Korean paperwork. I have heard from some people that there is additional information in the Korean paperwork.

I have read my adoption paperwork in English over and over again since I was little. It is on this really thin delicate paper and everything was written on a typewriter. It always felt special to pull it out and re-read my story.

Over the years, the same papers with the same words have had totally different meaning to me.

When I was little, my mom would read them to me.
At that time, the papers told me a tiny piece of my story.
My name was Ja-Young Park (which means bright and benevolent, my mom always liked that.) I was born in Pusan, Korea. My birth mother was young and unmarried. She had to help take care of her 2 brothers because her father had died when she was young. She and my father were together but unmarried. Because babies out of wedlock were looked down upon, especially girls, my mother gave me up for adoption. She asked specifically for me to come to America so I could have a better life.My father had olive colored skin like me. I had a loud impatient cry when I was hungry (which was always a joke in my family because when I get hungry, I get hangry...like really hangry.) I was failure to thrive when I was a baby. When I was little, I thought this just meant that I was sick...like, a cold. Most babies were in foster homes, but I was in an orphanage for 3 months. The last month, before coming to America, I was with a foster family.

Later, when I was 16, I was showing my high school boyfriend my paperwork. On the first page was information about my birth mother. "Name"- it was blank, but he and I looked closer. The space for her name wasn't blank, it was covered with typewriter eraser. We picked it off and there was her name: Hak Ja Park. It was weird seeing it there and knowing that this whole time it was just hiding under some flaky white tape. It felt more real to know her name and to know that part of her name was my name too.

Most recently, re-reading the paperwork, I am noticing things I didn't notice before. I don't know if it's because I brushed over the details before or because I didn't have the frame of reference I do now.

This is how the paperwork sounds to me now:

My birthmother was 22 when I was born. She and my father had known each other since high school. They lived together before he joined the military.
This means they knew each other at least 4 years. They lived together.While it was probably unplanned, it meant something to her, and she was alone during the pregnancy.
Then the paperwork goes on to say that, "She continued company work until she was 7 months pregnant, for recognizing her pregnancy late as she had menstrual irregularity. Troubled in mind, she gave birth to the child. But she was young and out of any financial ability so as not to even support her brothers. In consequence, she released the child to SWS for adoption for the good of the child." 
Re-reading it now, it has such a different tone than it did when I was little.

Another thing that jumped out from my paperwork now that I am older, is that I was failure to thrive.
As I said, I thought it was just that I was sick, like a cold. Failure to thrive can mean a baby isn't gaining weight and developing at a normal rate, but it can also mean that it is a form of babies mourning the loss of their birthmother. Children get a glazed over look in their eyes and start to give up. My paperwork says I had trouble with digestion. I slept a lot. I would wake everyday a half hour before the regulated feeding time and I would cry because I was still hungry after they gave me the allotted amount of food.

This is a photo of me at 1 month (Left) and 3 months old (Right)

When I was little, I used to look at the photo on the right and thing it was funny. I looked weird. I had little froggy toes. They put me in this silly outfit. This photo was always shown to me with a photo of me 1 month after I got to America right next to it. In that photo, I'm 5 months old. I have round cheeks, a huge smile on my face and I'm  dressed head to toe in pink. The story was always: you were sick, then you got better, then you came to America and you fattened right up from love and affection- which is true. Looking at this photo now though, I feel such a sadness for that baby in that picture. But now I can be sad and happy for that baby, instead of just being happy or just feeling sad. 

I am anxious to see what the file says in Korea. Maybe I will learn nothing new. Maybe the translator did a great job the first time. Either way- lots of discoveries big and small await. 

My flight leaves in 3 hours. 

Do you speak Korean?

Do I speak Korean? No.

I told a close friend I was going to Korea back in February over dinner. He asked, "Are you learning Korean?" At the time, I was teaching myself Korean from a book and a CD. I got the alphabet down, but when it came to sentences, the CD went too fast. I couldn't understand how to pronounce things and reading it phonetically sounded different from the CD.

I am a bad auditory learner. I've known this for a long time. I was an actress in college. Directors would give me notes after a scene or a run through. If I didn't have a pencil and paper to write down the notes, I was screwed. When I didn't have a pen and paper, I tried really hard to listen to instructions and remember them. I learned later this caused me to have a horrible facial expression. Once I stopped a director mid-sentence to find a pencil. I apologized saying, "Sorry, I have a really hard time remembering things unless I write them down." He said, "Yeah. I know. After I figured that out, I realized you weren't a bitch after all." Thanks. You tell me a grocery list of 5 items and I'll remember 2. If you write down a grocery list, let me look at it for 30 seconds and then rip it up, I'll remember everything on the list and what order they were in.

Anyways, this friend of mind keeps pressuring me everyday. "How is your Korean coming?" "Have you enrolled in a language course?" He is relentless.

The more he pressured me the angrier I got. "No, I quit the book." "No, I haven't signed up for a language course."

But why anger? Why am I mad about it?

First of all, it felt condescending.
I have traveled. I know the importance of making an effort to speak the language. I traveled to Spain twice, in high school and college. Back then, I was good. This was mainly due to me dating a string of handsome Spanish men while I studied in England. When I traveled to Italy with my best friend, we learned basic Italian phrases. I asked vendors "How much is this?" in Italian, and they answered me in English. There was a special glimmer in their eye though that said, "Hey! Thanks for giving it a shot, Asian American tourist."

But I know what my friend is saying isn't coming from a place of condescension. He wants me to have the best time I can there- the fullest experience. He knows I've traveled. So- why am I so mad about it?

He pressured me again tonight-."How is packing going?" he asked. "Ehhh...I am a little stressed out about it," I answered. "And your language classes?" he said.
I changed my tone from playful to a serious tone and told him he had to stop asking me about it. He told me it was a joke and I told him it wasn't.

He didn't understand why it wasn't a joke and explaining it to him was where I found my own truth for the first time.

Why don't I want to learn Korean?

• Because I have walked into Korean restaurants where women greet me in Korean. I greet them back in Korean. They continue to speak.I don't understand. They realize I don't 'really' speak Korean, and they look disappointed or they look at me with pity. 
• Because I've had people come up to me guessing my nationality and when I say, "I'm Korean." Their immediate follow-up question is, "Do you speak Korean?" which is followed by, "Did you live in a hut?" "Did you eat dogs and cats?" "Can you use chopsticks?" followed by "I love Korean people." "Kim chi is so good." 
• Because Koreans in Korea are going to know I'm American anyways, before I even speak, and judge me for it, so whats the point. (This is absolute projection. 100%.  But it's how I have thought about it) 
• Because, I don't know how to say this (because I know I feel this way but I don't understand why)...I am not culturally Korean in ANY way. I don't know anything about Korean daily life, Korean customs, Korean manners. I feel like being able to speak Korean and looking Korean, but not having any cultural context would be weird. I have a fear of being misunderstood. Why does she look Korean and speak Korean but know nothing about Korea? It's almost as though I want people to know I'm adopted as a get out of jail free card until I sort out my emotions about how I feel about being adopted and whether or not I want to connect more deeply with Korea.

So I guess it all adds up to: I'm afraid of being judged by Korean people that I'm not actually Korean and I'm afraid of being labeled as more Korean than I really am by Americans. 

I'm looking forward to this trip to find out the tiny answers to my identity. Will I feel drawn to learn it when I return? Will I feel as judged as I fear? Will I be welcomed back to Korea? Will I feel more Korean? 

We'll see :) 

Being adopted is like being a Cylon...

This may sound ridiculous but stay with me here...
Being ready to explore my history in Korea and my identity as Korean American reminded me of Battlestar Galactica.

I walked around for 26 years not admitting to myself adoption meant anything to me.

"Do you want to go back to Korea?" - Nope.
"Do you want to find your birth parents?" -No.
"Do you want to learn Korean?" -Nah...

I've talked to other adoptees and they felt similarly for a long time. I've talked to other adoptees that still feel this way. We all agree that, for the most part, this stems from being told we're not different than anyone else, and that we don't want to be. Some people just don't feel a connection to it. They're American. They don't need to feel Korean.

But for me, it feels like a light came on. "DING! You are now ready to discover your past."
It reminded me of Battlestar Galactica, when the cylons hear the music and all come together and realize they're cylons. Something all of a sudden is activated for them to realize their true origins.

It happened in 2013. I was working on a stage adaption of The Joy Luck Club (art imitates life, eh?)
I was cast with a group of Asian Americans that represented almost every Asian American experience. Immigrants, first generation, second generation, people with mixed race families, people who identified strongly and proudly with their ethnicity,and people who felt distant from it.

I was talking with woman who was also from the East Coast who grew up in a very Caucasian town  and she said, "Wasn't it such a relief when you came out to Seattle? To see so many more Asian people? I felt at home here."

I thought, "Uh...I don't know?" but instead I said, "Oh, yeah. Definitely."

I talked to my therapist about the conversation I had with this woman.
"Why don't I feel that? Why don't I notice that there are more Asian Americans around me now?"
She told me that it was because the woman's family was also Asian. She had a mirror feeding back her identity. I don't. I don't think I am white but when I see other Asian Americans, I don't think to myself, "They look like me." I can't really describe it.

Exploring the story of The Joy Luck Club- about mother's sacrifices for their children to have a better life and being surrounded by an almost all Asian cast turned on my "light."

Since then I joined an adoptee group in Seattle called AAAW (Asian Adult Adoptees of Washington), I worked with a therapist to help sort through my feelings, I did a birth parent search, and now I'm going to Korea. It has been a magical year of discovery with a lot more surprises in store.

Empathy is Feeling with Someone

Empathy is feeling with someone. 

I know I should be excited for this trip to Korea. 

I AM excited for this trip to Korea. 

But I am also scared out of my mind. 

I am scared that the story I was told about the conditions in which I was given up for adoption is untrue.
I am afraid the name I have on my paperwork was given to me by the orphanage and not my mother.
I am afraid my birthday isn't my real birthday.
I am afraid I am going to see other adoptees meet their birthparents, and feel a deep sadness for something I convinced myself I didn't want to find.
I am afraid that when I see the babies in the orphange, I won't be able to stop crying.
I am afraid being in a country where everyone looks similar to me will make me feel either more whole or less whole.
I am afraid I won't feel anything.
I am afraid I might feel everything.

I've always dealt with varying degrees of anxiety which sometimes makes me push people away and sometimes makes me reach out like crazy to feel a connection that makes me feel more grounded. Preparing for this trip, it's been a bit of both. I have grown to be able to recognize when I'm doing it, but I can't really figure out what exactly is causing it or how to control it.

I've talked to a few people about the trip. Other adoptees have been a great outlet because of their shared experience and perspective.

Non-adoptees have been very supportive but at times the support has lacked empathy.
"I leave in two weeks. I'm kind of surprised, but I am really nervous about it," I say.
The response to that statement has been varying degrees of, "C'mon, it will be so great. I am excited for you."

The trouble with this response is that it masquerades as support- and is intended to be support. They think they're saying, "Aww, don't stress yourself out. This trip could be life changing."
But what it's really saying is, "Cheer up. If I was you, I'd be excited."
Which is saying, don't feel the way you're feeling and makes me feel guilty that I'm feeling uneasy about something wonderful that is happening to me.

Would I know what to say in this situation? I'm not sure. I say the wrong thing all the time. I am guilty for sure.
But instead I can tell you what I'd like to hear.
I'd like to hear someone say, "What about the trip is making you nervous?" or "I can see why you'd be nervous, this trip holds a lot of meaning to you."

It also picks at the same scab from when I was younger.
"Someone at school told me to go back to China. That my eyes are squinty and my nose is flat," I'd say.
And everyone around me responded, "They're just stupid. They don't know anything. We don't even think of you as Asian."
Which taught me, instead of acknowledging that I am different and learning to stand up for myself in these situations, I always thought, "I am better than them. They're just idiots. There's no point in fixing the situation. The people I care about me see me as the same as them, so I am the same as them."
It's not the same as saying, "Wow, that is really hurtful thing to say. You're not from China. You're Korean. More importantly, you're American. We all look different and that's what makes us unique."

It is important to remember empathy. It isn't easy. It isn't always comfortable. But it is what makes human connection true and real and deep and lasting.

Adopted

Adopted.
For 27 years, that word didn't mean a lot to me. It was more of a word of defense when people gave me weird looks or asked probing questions. I used that word to cut off a series of awkwardly posed questions from people trying to figure out my identity.
"So...are those your...parents?"
"Where are you from?"
"Are you Chinese?"
"Where did you grow up?"
"Do you speak Korean?"

"I'm adopted" made people go, "Ohhhhhhhh, ok," like they were relieved to solve whatever dissonance I was creating for them.

Another reason the word didn't mean a lot to me was that my adoptive parents are my parents. Adoption was something that happened a long time ago that was just a part of making my family become my family. It is the only form of family I know.

Every adoptee has a different perspective on their adoption. I am a little woo-woo about the whole thing and I believe everything happens for a reason. The universe takes care of itself, and we are a part of the universe. With an open heart and an open mind, we learn, love, and grow in the place we're meant to be surrounded by the people we're meant to be with.

My mother's father passed away when she was a teenager (similarly, my adoption paperwork says the same happened to my birth mother). My mom believes that her father sent me to her, which I like to imagine too.

I have no anger or resentment about being adopted. I grew up in a great small town in Upstate New York with two amazing parents who have been married 41 years, a close group of friends, and a great education.

However, I am now realizing that being adopted has had a very serious impact on my life, my identity, and my relationships with others that I only began to understand a year ago.

In less than 2 weeks, I am going back to Korea for the first time since being adopted at 4 months old.