I feel a heaviness in my heart when I sit on the warm floor in my apartment, looking at emptied shelves and bulging suitcases. Some things still need to be taken care of; a mental checklist runs through my head like a stock ticker. Pictures of my family, pictures of my friends, pictures of my coworkers--each one represents a time of happiness that was so nice it warranted being paused and recorded forever.
Last night I said goodbye to two of my very good friends from my French class. They, like so many others in Korea, have shown me incredible kindness and generosity. Ashamed, they say they are acting out of charachter as Koreans, and wish they could have done more to help. They even hugged me, which is really rare for this culture.
Go to the bank, close the accounts, call the gas company to send someone over, do laundry, get things ready for the mail ship, cancel cell phone, return kitchen utensils to school, bleach the bathroom, buy garbage bags, pack pack pack, meet friend in evening, say goodbye again, rinse and repeat.
Yesterday I met two of my grade 6 girls on my way to the bus terminal. "가지마!" They said when I told them next week I would leave. My grade 4s said it felt like a bad dream when I told them. "아이 러브 유 데이비드" said one. As much as it makes me blessed to hear things like that, I just hope that they enjoy English in the future. I'd even settle for "not hate English".
Today was my last day of work. I know I only play a small part in students lives; there will be another TaLK teacher here soon, eager to make a difference (hopefully). They will bring their own stories, perspective, preconceptions, and work ethic. I hope they work hard. The students deserve someone who will contribute to their lives in a meaningful way. I have to check my wake: what kind of trail am I leaving behind?
Tonight I say goodbye to my colleagues: my fellow teachers, my teammates. We go to Mujinju restaurant, a Gwangju institution. Everyone knows that place. I can see why--it's bossam, it's Jeolla-do eumshik, it's a match made in heaven.
We go to a cafe, (Hweshik round 2) and talk some more about our desires and what it's like to be a young adult these days. Oh look, there's a purikura shop across the street! Let's take some pictures, they're hilarious :) Now we have good memories to last forever.
I'm sure when I get on the airport bus on Tuesday, it's going to hit me like a ton of bricks. I have an album on my iPod that's emotional kryptonite. Between Hurricanes by Canadian artist Steven Fearing--I gave it a homesickness-inducing warning label. I'll listen to it on the bus and have a good cry. It's good for the body.
Wait, you are going to cry on the bus? Didn't you say Mimi said you looked bad? I am guessing showing emotions of this kind, is not socially acceptable. Here we cry like babies, come home!! I like the term "emotional kryptonite" and then a homesickness-inducing warning label. I should have warned you before you went that the Doerksen gene of "saying goodbye" might hit you like a ton of bricks. Sorry, in that regard I didn't prepare you. I feel I have failed you as your mother, I should have explained that part of being a "Doerksen"
ReplyDeleteGoogle translate tells me you have done well by your students. Be thankful for that.
ReplyDeleteMom