Day 8: The infinity symbol- holding both sides of my identity

Day 8
Sunday June 22nd

This was our last morning in Seoul before heading out on our rural tour (to see the countryside of Korea).

We went to church because the tour I went with was sponsored by a company that has Christian values. The trip is not focused on Christianity. It is a small part of the tour. We did pray before many meals but the company was respectful of the fact that most people on the trip were not of Christian faith. Likewise, I was happy that, while most of the group was not Christian, we were all really respectful of the company's emphasis on their faith. The service was in English and everyone at the church welcomed us. I had one of the most touching moments of my trip during the service.

I was brought up in the Methodist Church. I went to Sunday school every Sunday with my mom. I went to Bible Camp and later volunteered there. I sang in the choir. I was a member of the youth group. I did morning bible study in high school. Up until I was 16, I was a very active member of the church. It was a place to see my friends. A ritual. A special time for me and my mom every morning. When I was little I would sit on her lap on stage while she sang in the choir. When she sat in the pew, she and I would write notes back and forth about how we would spend the rest of our Sunday. I had an older woman in church I would see every Sunday that shared my birthday. We had spaghetti dinners, bake sales, and special events. My friends and I played MASH when the sermon was boring. When I was older, I realized Christianity isn't for me but I respect the faith and I miss the community around my church.

The service we attended in Korea was a direct mirror to the service back home. Sing along songs, greeting your neighbor, prayers said aloud, and a choir in robes. They even had a string orchestra that was really great!

I was having a really hard time before I left for Korea. I had a lot of fear about what I might find there or what I might discover about myself- whether it be in the form of facts or emotions.

My therapist told me to think about the infinity symbol.

One side of it is the beautiful life I have had in America. My family, my friends, my accomplishments, my home, my identity as an American, my strong will.

The other side of it is the tiny baby in Korea. A mother who gave up her child. A baby in an orphanage mourning the loss of its mother and struggling to survive. An identity as a Korean woman that to me was just a grey silhouette that had no details. The accumulation of small remarks about being different, being foreign, being unwanted.

She reminded me that we can't stay on either side of those loops too long or we are denying ourselves the entire truth. If we pretend that we're happy all the time, we are denying the hurt we feel and have felt. If we stay lingering on the past, we'll fall into a darkness that denies the happiness we've experienced.
We have to move between both sides- hold both the happiness and the sadness. Honor both because they make you who you are.

This stuck with me my entire trip.

Being at that church, in my home country, seeing a choir full of Korean people in robes just like my mom in New York wore, singing the same songs I shared with her during my very happy childhood in the US tied those two worlds together for me and I cried with happiness.

It is easy to fall down the rabbit hole of 'what ifs' as an adoptee- especially while in Korea. 
It is easy to forget your identity outside of being an adoptee.

You scan faces in a crowd- and you don't mean to but you think- Are they out there? Could the be on this street? Would I know if they were?
You see the babies in the orphanages and you see yourself.
You see mothers and fathers playing with their children in the park and think, is that what it would have been like?
You see people your age on the subway and think- do I blend in? Is that what I look like?
How would I have been different?
What if I stayed?
Would it have been as bad as they say it would have been for a child out of wedlock?
Is my mother thinking of me right now?

I'll never be completely Korean. I'll never be completely American. 

Now that I have learned a little bit about Korea- about a culture that thought adoption was the answer, about the history of a country that has been through so much, after meeting so many kind, generous Korean people who wish for me to feel pride in who I am- it is easier for me to move between the two sides. 

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.