When DW and I decided to quit our jobs and move to South Korea, in November of 1996, it was all we could think of. Seemingly, all we could talk about.
We had a lot of plans to make. We had to give up our apartment that we had shared for nearly five years. We went through our possessions and determined what we would keep and what we should give away or throw out. We boxed up our belongings and stored them with both my family and DW's parents.
What we couldn't store with family, such as furniture, we placed in a storage facility.
We said goodbye to friends several times. The paperwork for our work visas had been delayed for almost two months: where we had initially planned to leave Ottawa at the beginning of January, 1997, we didn't actually have everything we needed until the end of February. It was almost embarrassing to run into people who thought we had already left town. I had received three "final" haircuts from my barber.
For four months, we were obsessed with our impending journey to Korea. Now that I'm planning to return in about three months, I seem to be obsessing again. It's difficult to think of little else, including a getaway in March that DW has planned for us (we're going to celebrate our silver anniversary in Mexico).
Because DW did all of the research, found the best place for an unbeatable price, and booked everything, all I need to do is pack my bag.
While Mexico will entail relaxing by the pool or on the beach, or swimming with sea turtles, my Korean trip is much more involved. After all, I'm going solo so all planning is up to me.
The main focus on my Korean trip is to reconnect with the country, to find inspiration to finish my sequel to Songsaengnim: A Korea Diary. The other night, I finished reading the entire book for the first time since before the final draft went to the printer. I have to say that I'm glad I waited so long, for when the story was no longer fresh and I felt further removed, could assess it with a fairer eye.
In the past, whenever I've read some of my creative writing, I would tell myself that it's crap, and push it onto a shelf. But this time, I actually felt that I could read my novel without cringing.
Chapter 1, by far, was the most reworked part of the book. It describes the main character, Roland Axam, as his plane approaches Seoul and he is about to begin a new life as an English instructor. Roland is naturally anxious about what awaits him in a country that he knew little about just months before. We hear Roland's self-doubt as he contemplates living in a country where he doesn't speak the language, doesn't know the culture, hasn't tasted the food. All the while, snippets of his not-too-distant past flitter in his head.
Roland is met at the Kimpo Airport by a fellow teacher, Linda, who escorts him to his new "home," Chŏnju. Having been on a journey for more than 24 hours, Roland's views of this new country are wrapped in a fog.
I'm pretty happy with how this chapter turned out, can now read it more objectively. Though, at times, Roland seems a little too distracted by how pretty the Korean women are, I think the first chapter allows the reader to be curious enough about this Scottish Canadian to read on.
The rest of the story follows Roland as he settles into his job and makes new friends. He undergoes some culture shock as he learns the stark differences between Korean culture and his own. Throughout the telling of his present situation, Roland experiences flashbacks to his recent past and the tragedy that ultimately sent him fleeing Canada.
In Chapter 8, the reader learns the full story behind Roland's pain and his struggle to overcome his grief. Details continue to be revealled as Roland is faced with stressful situations that present themselves. The reader is also taken on a journey throughout the Korean peninsula, to the island of Cheju, and to Beijing, China.
My favourite part of the book comes in Chapter 24, while Roland and Tanya (who also teaches at the language institute) visit a Canadian friend of Roland's, who lives in Seoul. In what I feel is the best-written chapter, the three friends find themselves riveted to the television as they watch the unfolding news of a car crash in Paris, in which Diana, Princess of Wales, and her lover, Dodi Fayed, are involved. As CNN reports the story, Roland moves between the present and the past, remembering his own tragedy.
I can't believe I teared up while reading it.
There are some other strong chapters, but none as powerful as Chapter 24.
As I reached the end of the book, I felt that the pace was increasing at an unnatural rate. I kept noticing how few pages were left to the end and wondered how I was going to cram everything in. In truth, as I wrote the end, I wanted to move on to the sequel and really wanted to bring Roland's first year to a close.
I promise that the sequel, Gyeosunim, will take a step backwards and fill in more detail. And I'm hoping that my upcoming return to Korea will give me the inspiration that I need. To push through. With any luck, the sequel will be finished sometime through the summer.
(I know: that's what I said last year.)
So yes, I'm obsessing over my return to Korea. If you'll allow me to indulge, I'd like to share some memories of my years in Chŏnju, with some travels across the country and to neighbouring nations. I know I've already shared some stories, but I'd like to continue until I either run out or until I leave, in May.
S'alright?
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