Coming home from Korea
I step off the airplane and into the Salt Lake City airport. This is right where I was four months, six classes, two scars, 875 pictures, infinite acquaintances, three airports, and 24 hours of travel ago. Iíve just finished up a semester abroad where I studied painting at Hongik University in Seoul, South Korea.
I spend the first week refraining from squatting, giving the two hand wave, and saying ìkamsahamnidaî after I order food. Iím honestly a little lost because not only do I wake up at four in the morning feeling ready to go, I have piles of information about the nearest subway station, good art galleries, and the best places to eat floating around my head; and they donít quite match up with Logan, Utah. Also, what am I supposed to do on weekends without karaoke?
I slowly pull it back together and readjust myself to America. I email and facebook my friends, print pictures, write down memories, and look back either with laughter or disbelief at all of the people, places, classes, and adventures Iíve encountered over the last semester. I also think back to the moments where I almost decided not to go to Korea. Thank goodness those moments passed because I have just begun to discover that life is better when we spend our time living it.
