I came home yesterday to my landlord calling me inside of her flower arrangement shop which happens to be the first story of the building I live in. Also, she speaks very, very little English. So I went inside and gazed at the craftsmanship of her work. While trying to both glance at the skill this woman possess and decipher what the hell she wanted I noticed a rather large package sitting on her desk. Like a cat I became instantly curious. I interrupted her mid-Korean-sentence and pointed at the package whilst making a face of questioning.
Let me stop here to explain how damn good I have gotten at charades. Because you are here to teach English to a country which ranks in the lower levels of developed countries in the ways of English you learn how to explain yourself using hands movements, facial expressions and raising in vocal tones. For example: lets say I wanted to buy something behind the counter at the GS20 (like 7-11's here.) I would point to it while leaning way over the counter, in hope that the relative distance of my finger to the product correlates to how close I am to buying it, while making a child-like whining vocal tones (which reminds me of a time when we were are in our terrible twos and wanted a chocolate bar but knew out parents wouldn't buy it so we just whined like a bastard) while making eye contact with the lady trying to mentally relay to her: Give me this product please or else I will burn this fucker to the ground. Now that was a simple, simple example but you can see how many little things go into it. Now try to imagine what sort of singing monkey show I have to put on to explain a Definite Article to my students.
ack to the story. So when I point to the package her eyes light up as if we just broke through some brick wall that has been keeping us from understanding each other. She takes me over there and shows me the box. Immediately I see my name all over it and become giddy like a schoolchild. The thought comes into my mind "Oh thank god, there is an outside world besides here that isn't directly connected to the internet or phone." I ignore the rest of what this lady is trying to say to me and, with the box under my arm, sprint up the stairs to my third story apartment.
Inside my apartment I glance at the "From:" line and saw it was from my parents. Instantly I know this is my birthday present from the family. This does nothing to slow me down from grabbing a knife and starting to cut open the package. The second that knife hit the packaging tape I felt like this was the same act taking that first slice (with the knife) of your birthday cake. I savored every second and soaked it in like the healing power of the sun while laying on a white sanded, blue watered beach. Opening it up I saw this:
Holy mother of god. I figured this box was so big because they used a lot of packaging popcorn or other annoying products but no! This was all goods. As with any other holiday you ALWAYS must open the card first. When I was younger I always assumed that if you didn't open the card first someone would know you broke some cosmic law and take away all your sweet, sweet loot. I mean, every person I knew or saw always opened the card first. My mom even got upset as if she knew when I went for the presents first. Of course I grew up and like everything else my ideas of things grew up as well. However, I still wont risk it. Mom's have a six sense and know when a child somewhere didn't open the card first.
As soon as I saw the message and pictures I grew instantly sentimental. Being over here is hard for someone who hold family in the highest importance. Sure I saw them here and there when I was in undergraduate school but I knew I could drive an hour and see them. Being over here I don't have that luxury. These pictures show my cousin in Virginia graduating high school and my father with his sister and brother in law. Of course my father looks goofy and brings a smile to my face but I think I like that memory of him. Always trying to lighten the mood or bring a smile to our faces even in the face of impossibility. And my mother writing such a note never thinking of herself. You see I asked her to get these shorts in the states from Gap. As they are sold out online I assumed the stores would have them. Never thinking of herself, only others, she felt sad she couldn't find them EVEN THOUGH she got me so much more (which you will see in a minute) and spent a pretty penny on shipping. Words such as she wrote on this card inspire me to push myself and find that muse not outside of me but within me.
ut enough with the sentential stuff. I glanced at all the carefully wrapped products and returned to my child-like curiosity. Like a wild animal locking gaze with it's prey in the middle of a long winter I went into a frenzy to open up these packages. Literally clawing my way through the first suspiciously heavy article I started to make progress. Passing the growing temptation to stop my foaming-mouthed ripping and pop the bubble wrap I trudged on. Once I got the package open all my efforts and sore fingertips were not in vain.
I think the picture speaks for itself.
After opening up the rest of the packages I sat them all down on the floor and gazed in amazement. How had I ever gotten this lucky? I don't mean to receive such a harvest of presents but a family that would be willing to go to such lengths as to send me said presents. Squatting down on the floor and gazing upon this sight I had a little time of peace to reflect. I know my family and I have had our rough spots and good spots but somehow I cam out semi-ok, right? I am not too crazy and have a decent enough head on my shoulder. I know fate, my environment and my own decisions had a lot to do with how I am or will be but then I remembered who gave me the tools not to go down a darker path. It is so easy to let the abyss swallow one up, be it drugs, alcohol, early childbearing, hate, ignorance, egocentricity or grand-delusions, that the fact I am alive is a damn miracle upon itself! Let alone the fact I had the knowhow to be here and the constitution to live in South Korea and learn from it. Knowing this I have to accredit a huge portion of this gift I have been given to my family. Without them I wouldn't be here, let alone here. They gave me to tools to make something of myself and see the truth in a world that is covered in a think layer of muck, other times thick. For this I am eternally grateful and feel guilty at times that I have no way to return the favor. Things are things and mean nothing but I don't know if I posses enough love in my heart to match what I have been given by them. I hope when they read this entry they know I could do everything in my power to return the love they have given me and it still wouldn't be enough.
Now that I have all I need for a week at a tropical paradise it's time to take a little vacation time :) Jeju Island, here I come.
After opening up the rest of the packages I sat them all down on the floor and gazed in amazement. How had I ever gotten this lucky? I don't mean to receive such a harvest of presents but a family that would be willing to go to such lengths as to send me said presents. Squatting down on the floor and gazing upon this sight I had a little time of peace to reflect. I know my family and I have had our rough spots and good spots but somehow I cam out semi-ok, right? I am not too crazy and have a decent enough head on my shoulder. I know fate, my environment and my own decisions had a lot to do with how I am or will be but then I remembered who gave me the tools not to go down a darker path. It is so easy to let the abyss swallow one up, be it drugs, alcohol, early childbearing, hate, ignorance, egocentricity or grand-delusions, that the fact I am alive is a damn miracle upon itself! Let alone the fact I had the knowhow to be here and the constitution to live in South Korea and learn from it. Knowing this I have to accredit a huge portion of this gift I have been given to my family. Without them I wouldn't be here, let alone here. They gave me to tools to make something of myself and see the truth in a world that is covered in a think layer of muck, other times thick. For this I am eternally grateful and feel guilty at times that I have no way to return the favor. Things are things and mean nothing but I don't know if I posses enough love in my heart to match what I have been given by them. I hope when they read this entry they know I could do everything in my power to return the love they have given me and it still wouldn't be enough. 
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