There and Back Again: Same, But Different

It's been well over a year since my last post, which in itself is strange and uncomfortable in some ways. I'd always envisioned myself being one of the ones who faithfully wrote until the end of time. Yet the second my world opened up, I left my keyboard and went out to see what life was about. This led to one of the greatest ironies of my life in Korea: I finally had experiences to write about, and yet, I was doing no writing. 

The strangeness is compounded as I find myself writing again in front of a window. Only instead of looking out into a small road there's a gravel driveway, and instead of hearing the hum of busses, there's the faint sounds of voices from my little sister's phone in the bed above my head. 

I'm home. 

And I don't know how to feel about it. 

Almost three years ago to the day, I wrote my first blog post about Korea. It's titled "The SBD" (hyperlinked for your convenience if you want to indulge in some time traveling), and looking back through it feels like walking through a door into another world. The smells, the sights, the fear, the anticipation. 

Remembering how I had yet to meet anyone at FTK, and if I thought L was my friend then, she only became more so in the three years that I had the pleasure of having her as my supervisor. I miss her. I miss my students. The ones you all know about, and my dearest class, who in another moment of irony was never introduced to you. 

But how do you write about that? How do you take some of the sweetest moments of your life and condense them down into words? Describe their souls and spirits in ways that other people can fathom? How to describe how Joon is relentless in his search for knowledge, always looking for new ways to connect the things we're learning. And how his giggle fits would light up the room. How Emma was always so serious, yet the second it looked like there was fun to be had she was immediately all for it. And how she loved to be loved. Or my sweet Ellie. Easily the most grownup out of all of us, who would always snort at my ridiculous stories and be the first to inform me that "dragons aren't real", while failing to hide the smile on her face. Then Evan. Oh Evan, who always tried to nap during circle time and was well on his way to being the most stubborn. But decided he'd give me a chance and became a dear little friend. Then Tei. Late to the party, but serious and committed to doing well. The second he realized there was a standard to meet he jumped on it, all with a smile on his face and a healthy dose of competition. Then finally JJ. Who didn't know how to read when she came to us late in the year. So bright and cheerful. Though it took longer for her to do her work she wouldn't complain, and the second she started to read her smile lit up the room. 

And yet, this tells you nothing about them. At least not how I know them. Doesn't capture the hours of frustration and determination trying to understand each other when they didn't know any English. Our collective triumph when they started writing on their own. The silly stories we'd tell each other. How they'd pretend to break the rules, and I'd pretend to scold them. 

How the day before I left we sat solemnly at the end of our 16 months together and tried not to cry. How L let us have that last class period on our own where we really didn't learn much English, but I hope they came away knowing how much I loved them and always will. 

How thinking about all the students I've left behind makes my heart hurt a little. 

How that's only FTK and doesn't even cover my sweet ward members and friends that I've made through the years. 

How I looked at the street that at first filled me with fear and anxiety, but now felt like home in ways only home has felt like. 

How when my bags were packed and ready to go, my apartment felt uncomfortable; like I was a stranger, an intruder in someone else's space. 

How the trip to the airport involved no masks, no ambulances, and no language stresses. Just a car ride from dear friends, and an uneventful stroll through the airport (if you don't count the five minutes I left my passport in the bathroom and thought I was trapped in Korea forever). 

But I guess there's some of it. 

So I guess where there's not really words, I can put some pictures instead. It won't make up for over a year of not posting, but it'll let you see some of what I saw...

Young men and young women fishing trip...we caught enough fish to eat, and despite their best efforts no one fell in. 

We were freezing, but it was worth it.

Experienced my first multiple-course meal, which should have gotten its own post. 

My sweet co-teacher took me! K Teacher is one of the OGs and I love her. 

Finally went to the Seoul temple, and had a blast. We took a bus, and it was an all-night drive.

The 5am arrival time killed.

My street, always so green this time of year. 

And my apartment (amazing how cozy living in one room can be). 

Then some moments of goodbyes. The YSA dinner with the friends from church. The potluck my ward rescheduled so we could say goodbye. Not pictured are several smaller meetings with friends who made time in their schedules to spend a last dinner together. 

Korean food. There's nothing like it.

We were both leaving the ward, and VERY grateful to not be alone in all the attention. 

Then Korea. Oh my beautiful Korea. 

Beginning of the youth hike that almost killed us.

The top of the youth hike that almost killed us.

The grounds of a wood museum we saw on a field trip.

I will miss it. The low, rolling mountains. The deep greens, and vibrant colors. The fact that no matter what season it was there seemed to always be flowers blooming somewhere. The way the countryside was filled with some of the most beautiful bits of nature that I've ever seen. And how the city never slept. Always humming, always alert and aware. 

When I wrote my first post I titled it "The SBD", Same But Different. 

Now I'm here, back in the States. Same people, different heights. Same house, different porch. Same friends, different ideas. Same language, but different slang. 

And me, well I'm not the same. I see it when I ask where the bathroom is at Walmart. When I haggled with the car dealer. When I worry less about things not going as planned and embrace changes as they come. When I sit by new people and try to have conversations with them, instead of hiding away in a corner. When I try to order tacos at a Mexcian restaurant and end up feeling sheepish because half the words I'm speaking are derived from ancient Chinese and not Latin. 

I watched the old animated version of "Return of the King" with my siblings a few weeks ago, and as Frodo sets down the book after writing his closing lines, I understood perhaps a little of what he was feeling. All stories have their end. And we're never who we were before they started. But that only better prepares us for the next adventures to come. I'm nowhere near ready to go find a boat to the Grey Havens, but this has been a fabulous adventure. While I don't know exactly where the next chapter of my life will lead, I do know it has been my honor and privilege to go on this one. 

And finally, thank you for joining me. The support and love you showed me while I was gone, has been tremendous. I could never have done this without you. 

Sincerely, 

Shayla