rant/musings/perspective check p.s. don't read this if you're eating.

My head is currently a bottomless repository of the most fascinating mucus on earth. It's beyond snot. It's more like glue. Clear, thick yet still fluid, elastic, stretchy glue, like the kind in a tube I used in middle school when I was too cool for Elmer's. Despite the goo, I can still breathe through my nose. Sweet!

I have a sinus infection, according to the lovely and very sweet doctor at the international clinic. Am currently on a dose of 4 pills three times a day - an antibiotic, a cough suppressant, sudafed to decongest the depths of my apparently vast sinuses, and something for phlegm. Dunno what it does with the phlegm. Maybe that's what's making everything so strange and taffy-like. ~o~ They make me feel alternately light-headed & buzzy (in a fun & high way) or tired (in a less fun but still high way). I'd rather have a z-pack and just take one pill at a time, but these are much easier on the stomach. And much cheaper. All of my pills came to a whopping total of krw8,600, or about US$8. The visit itself was US$15. The Canadians at work think this is incredibly expensive. ~grin~ I say, wh00t!

The international clinic was fun. The nurses were awesome. My boss called ahead and made me an appointment (thanks, Cindy!). The clinic is located inside the largest hospital in Korea, the Ansan Medical Center. It's enormous. ENORMOUS. I was glad the clinic was on the first floor. ~lol~

Three nurses and two doctors work at the international clinic. One of the nurses told me that the hospital is the largest in Korea, that people from all over the country seek referrals there for major surgeries, especially liver and heart transplants. Everyone there was so much nicer than many of the doctors at home. They actually listened and made me feel like a decent human being. (Though, no one can beat Dr. Pearson at the Stillwater clinic. He rules.)

It's 3 am and I can't sleep. I went for a walk around 2 to clear my head. It's a damp, misty night. The streets are bathed in hazy orange streetlamp light. Aside from Rodeo Drive outside my apartment, most businesses are closed. A few neon signs flickered tiredly on the street where I walked. The one and a half blocks of red light district nearby didn't even seem open when I passed.

It's fun to see who's still awake at this time of night. Koreans know how to drink, and even though bar time is usually 2 am, many places seem to stay open later. 2 am on a Tuesday night, and the dance club down the street is still packed full. Legions of cabs patrol the streets, slowing down to pause near anyone staggering out of bars, norebangs, shikdahngs (restaurants), pool halls, clubs. Cab drivers are kings once the subway closes for the night. If you're not going somewhere they want to go, they'll wave you away like a dirty shoe and wait for the next tipsy lot to wander by. They won't have to wait long.

I am restless. According to a co-worker, I've hit The 3-6 Month Slump. They said that after vacation at the end of August, I will feel better. ~grin~ That's a ways away. I'm searching for solutions. I am still happy here, but I am feeling increasingly homesick and too comfortable with my current routine. Time to shake things up. More travel. More gym. More new friends. Something. I've avoided meeting adoptees since I arrived, which is rather sad. I don't know why. Three theories.

1. I feel guilty when I meet adoptees - many seem to be here because they have issues with adoption and had a bad experience. I had a fine experience and led a pretty damn sheltered life sans racism. I don't really want to find my birth parents, though that may be because I'm certain I couldn't find them. I've got some peace with this. Many don't.

2. Maybe I do have issues with adoption and am avoiding other adoptees because I don't want to deal.

3. My boyfriend is white and I'm afraid of judgement from a group of people who are here to hang out with asians and get in touch with their asian selves.
I had a chance to be a part of a spoken word/performance art piece about adoption. I dropped out because of schedule issues. uberboo. Got an invite to the show, with the following:
"This show has been created with ethnic _Koreans_ in mind (overseas or native), so if you would kindly keep that in mind as you pass on the word-- ie: inviting your korean friends to come, and not your hagwon co-workers.... that would be truly amazing."

I understand and I don't. Granted, I'm suspicious of lots of the white people here. It seems like many of them are just here to make money, not to enjoy a new culture. Some are here to sleep with Asian women. Some are here to party, live easy, be treated like royalty, and avoid responsiblity and adulthood. Sound like judgements? Yes. Yet I've also met all three of these types while I've been here. (bleargh.) I've talked with adoptees who said they're not here to hang out with white people, they can do that at home. I don't know if I'm asian or white or purple or puce. I don't feel asian and I don't feel white. Maybe I'm afraid I'm not "asian enough," whatever that means. That's been an ongoing fear. Working with Mu helped me start facing a lot of that. Perhaps it's time to jump back into the fray. ~lol~

I suppose it's a combination of all three, with emphasis on one and three. Like most things. Nothing is black and white.

And yet, some things are clear. Tonight while wandering and brooding over the reasons I came to Korea in the first place, I saw a hagwon bus carting English students home at 2 am. They're probably high school students. They'll have to go home and finish homework from Korean school and probably at least 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 hagwons. They might get 3 or 4 hours of sleep, and then it's back to high school by 9 am. Their teachers can hit them, their parents can beat them, they are under enormous pressure to have perfect scores, enter the perfect university, and lead perfect, successful, wealthy lives.

My life ain't so bad.