Restlessness and Memories Are All That I Have

Weaving my way through the crowded streets of Seoul, people are constantly coming at me. I start out on one side of the street and within a matter of seconds, I have crisscrossed back and forth about a dozen times. It's definitely a fend for yourself sort of situation. At the time I had a hard time getting used to the orderlessness there and how no one would say excuse me. As I look back on the many adventures I had wandering the streets of Seoul or even Jeju, I find it humorous to retrace the path in my head as my walking path was that of a meandering river or a mountainous highway full of sharp angles and cutbacks and if you didn't pay attention, you'd be taken out!

Yesterday I went out for Korean food for lunch. While I was in Korea, after about 2 weeks, I was desperate for some kind of Western food. Since being back home in Minnesota, I am desperate for the taste of Korea. The restaurant I went to contained small subtle hints of authentic Korean food. As I ate, each time one of those tastes would fill my mouth, I was instantly transported back to that small restaurant by our hotel in Gyeongju where we sat very uncomfortably on the floor and shared a massive plate of either bbq duck or pork - I think it was pork. I am sitting at the restaurant in the small village near our hotel in Gyeongju eating bibimbap and more bbq pork. I am at Myung-in Mandoo having my fill of bibimbap and mandoo. And I am in Sinchon with Kim enjoying Samgyupsal.

Since being back in Minnesota, it's been fairly cool out. At night, it actually gets a bit chilly. It's a huge and inviting difference from the thickness of the air in Korea. I had never experienced heat and humidity quite like Korea. It was downright miserable, yet I miss it. I miss walking outside and feeling like I was filling my lungs with 900 lbs of stew as I drew my first breath in. I miss existing in a constant state of dampness from all of the sweat drawn out of my body by the unforgiving Korean summer. I miss that feeling of walking into an intensely air conditioned store, restaurant, hotel, finding refuge from the unbeatable heat and humidity. I miss how cold I would keep it in our hotel room and every time I get a chill here from these cool nights and mornings, I am back in our room at the Lotte Hotel sitting at the desk in shorts and a hoody - my favorite outfit ever.

I miss nights of being out late exploring the town. I miss standing in the sea and the feeling of being pulled deeper into Korea. I miss the conversations I had with people, mostly Laura, about the experience and what it meant for us as adoptees. I miss struggling through that. I miss not seeing all these people who look like me where for once I don't stand out in a crowd. I miss the smell of the street food - the hot greasy fried street food. I even miss the smell of the seafood that would oftentimes be such an unwelcoming scent to my nose that I would have to suppress my gag reflex and/or endure a moment of my eyes watering. Not having these smells reminds me I am no longer there. Hearing everything in English and being able to communicate easily and without any thought to it reminds me I am no longer there. Only being able to keep in touch with friends via Facebook, text messaging, emails, etc. instead of calling hotel rooms, meeting by the elevator, and going out together means I am no longer there. Not hearing the constant hum of the city even on into the night means I am no longer there. And when I look out my window and I do not see Korea, I am deeply saddened and wonder if and how I will ever adjust to being back home.

It's only the start of my 3rd full day back in Minnesota and the adjustment hasnt been easy. I haven't been sleeping and when I do sleep, it's so restless. I haven't had a full night's sleep yet at any point during any of the days I've been home. My body aches and feels sickly most of the time as I readjust to our Western foods and try and regulate my eating habits. I worked out yesterday in an attempt to get back on that cycle. It was unfulfilling as I think my body just wanted to quit. I go to bed exhausted and wake up numerous times during the night. It takes me a little bit to remember where I am. I am flooded with memories and thoughts of Korea and in the few seconds it takes for me to realize that I am not there, my whole being is overcome with such sadness. I go back to sleep only to wake up again a handful of times throughout the night going through the same process.

This morning I checked my phone and saw that I had an email from Kim Thompson regarding my name. She was able to get some more information. There are a few more things I want to ask about before I post that information, but just seeing that email from her and reading the contents immediately brought me back to the orphanage and I cycled and churned my way through so many intense thoughts and emotions at 6am. Without ever having served in the military, I have known a small number of people that have. One of the things I know to be true for some is that it is hard to adjust to civilian life. That thought coursed through my brain as I laid there staring out my window to the parking lot below. What if I can't ever adjust to my life back here in Minnesota? What if it's just too hard and too much of me waits for the rest of my return to Korea? I had blogged previously about feeling whole and complete over there and my apprehension of knowing that I was coming back to a life in Minnesota where I never felt fully whole and complete. What if I just can't function here? I connected with Korea on so many levels and - levels I had never known were there and to depths in which I never would have conceived ever! Korea is my home home. It's where I felt I belonged. Everything about me attached myself to that country and without any effort on my part. There was no thinking about it, no processing it, no resisting it, no expecting it. It just happened. The thoughts and feelings I have now are completely new to me and while before I would have tried to control how I navigated them or which thoughts and feelings I would allow to surface and which ones I would repress. Now, I couldnt even do that even if I tried. This is what's in me. This is me aching to return home home and struggling with finding peace and normalcy back in my Minnesota home. This is what true heartache feels like.