For Bulgaria

This is it.
Peace Corps Bulgaria is no more. Well that's not entirely true,  because for as long as there is a person alive whose life was touched by it then I believe Peace Corps Bulgaria is still alive. That at least gives me some comfort today as the volunteers are no more, the office shuts down, and the last employees leave for the last time.

I'm quite sure that most people don't really care, or know why they would care about this subject. But I'm equally sure that each person to go through PC BG, even for a short while, cares and knows why.

Thinking  back on my experiences throws me into a wash of emotions: Excitement for the unknown that became the familiar. Hope for the apathetic students that somehow allowed that spark to show through every once in a while, and still keep in touch. Fondness for the harsh and consonant dripping speech that became the language of my dreams. Appreciation for the winter that came on strong with its thick snow for thick bread. Fear of the blood sucking beasts, because I never knew humans could get fleas and never imagined they would be as vicious as they are. Joy for the toughness, roughness, hardness I learned, then learned to let go of.

And above all there are two emotions that completely overwhelm me:
Thankfulness for a staff so dedicated and diligent I know I will never, NEVER see their equal in my lifetime.

And Love. Love for a country that became my home in ways I am still trying to understand, for a people that accept me without question and so completely that I have more mothers/ sisters/ brothers/ babas than I can count, for a culture so rich that I'll be learning horos for the rest of my life-
for Bulgaria.

How shockingly unshocking.

When I came to South Korea I thought I was flying solo. No group, no built-in support network, no easy friends. It's probable that there has never been a more incorrect assumption in my entire life. Upon arrival, not only was I put into a group of fellow native speakers who would live in my area but it also turns out we all hit it off quite well (yay! for group 3). Thus a support network, a vast array of friendships, and a community was born.  So pretty much immediately my mentality was shifted from 'flying solo' to 'group,' which can make a huge difference. We've all been here for a little over 5 months now. Some of the friendships have grown stronger, some have dissipated; which is bound to happen in any group of 40 people. Overall they're amazing people and I cherish the time I have to get to know them. But in the last few weeks something odd has been happening....

Between three and five months in country something special starts to happen... the culture shock down-slope then bottom out. It's inevitable. When I was in Peace Corps Training they gave us this chart of emotions telling us how we would feel across the timeline of our service. We laughed. We made fun of it. We joked around about people thinking they could predict how we would feel not even knowing us. We were not predictable or chartable... or so we thought. Four or five months later and we all were bottoming out. Someone pulled out the emotions chart, in a fit of irony, and wouldn't you just know it: Month 5 to 6- Rock Bottom. (I've just gone ahead and posted the chart, because it's useful. Seriously useful.)

And now we are a little past month five in South Korea.

This time I knew it would come. A couple weeks ago it started happening. I'd be talking to someone and then the conversation would turn to how we were both having a tough time. The same conversation happened over and over again. Each person's difficulties were a little different, unique to them, but the feelings are the same every time. It is hard to separate a crappy work week, indifferent/mean/demanding colleagues, a lack of social options, a distaste for the food, bad weather, feeling homesick, missing important things back home... I could go on... from the ups and downs of culture shock. Sometimes we just feel like it's all jumbled together and we're not sure if we can take it. Usually at those times we give up, in a small way or in a big way.

There's nothing wrong with giving up. Sometimes it's part of accepting the new culture and moving on, "No, I won't do all your work for you, but I give up trying to explain why. Now I'll just do my own work and when you ask me to do yours I'll say, 'no.'"  Or in my case "Ok, Mr. OMT I give up getting mad at you. Now you can interrupt me, then shove something in my face and ask me a series of demanding personal questions, because the whole time in my head I'll be singing 'Then I threw it on the ground. I'm an adult' while I nod and smile at you." Not to get personal or anything. But sometimes giving up is so complete that there needs to be a clean break, and that's when people decide to go back. And that's ok too.

Honestly, the culture shock is not that bad for me. Having hit the culture shock rock bottom three separate times in the past ten years has helped ease its intensity and helped me understand it and cope with it better. Knowing it would come, that it was inevitable, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it (or more importantly with me, for feeling this way) has helped me immensely. For me, just identifying that I'm in the throws of culture shock has helped.
Now I give myself a break every chance I get. Bingsu is this ice, fruit dessert and it's something I LOVE about Korea! The best break is an afternoon bingsu with a good book or a good friend. Taking time to sit down and reflect helps me remember all the things I like here, which are numerous. My goal is to keep perspective. That's it. 

Celebrations and Independence

This year July 4th marked the end of exams for my students, and that was about as exciting as it got. In doing a lesson on independence I discovered that Americans are quite a bit more visibly enthusiastic about celebrating independence than the people in my current country of residence. Of course right now I rely solely on the opinions of my students and I won't truly  know until August 15th (Korean Independence Day), but after showing them excerpts of fireworks shows in Boston and New York a consensus formed that nothing like that ever happens in Korea for any holiday.
*Note: I'm asking to be proven wrong. Please, please, please tell me of an event that I can go to in Korea where I will be able to experience the communal excitement of the picnic/bbq/house party/concert/firework/baseball game in some exciting combination.*


The other weekend I got to visit a good friend of mine in Seoul and go to a baseball game with her and her husband. You can see us goofing off and having fun in the picture. The stadium was packed even though it was raining on and off. The fans had choreographed cheers. There was a section that produced a team flag that actually covered that entire section of the stadium. Songs were sung in unison; chants were shaking the stadium; the wave went back and forth in fast and slow motion perfectly synchronized. It was a wonderful experience. And honestly after seeing this amazing display of collectivism I was shocked that nothing like it exists on a national level in celebration of something other than a corporately sponsored sports team. Are Koreans really bigger fans of their sports teams than they are fans of their country? Not sure that I believe that. While they don't seem to be as nationalistic as Bulgarians, Koreans still seem to have a great sense of national identity and pride. So why the lack of show for it? Or substantive show? Am I just missing the way they show their national pride?

I also found it very interesting that a collectivist culture (steeped in communal values and dependent on mutual understanding) would have a void of community events celebrating the largest communal victory: Independence from imperial rule. Each city has a festival celebrating that town, but when I asked about a national celebration only one student (out of several hundred) could think of one, New Year's Eve. But New Year's Eve is a global holiday not a national one. Does NYE bond people together here and provide a sense of community? Maybe, maybe not.

In the few months I've lived here I've noticed an almost co-dependence of societal relationships and that Koreans feel inextricably linked to each other based solely on being Korean. Seeing how these two factors permeate every corner of society  I can't fathom that Koreans don't have a large, celebratory, social holiday that binds them further together in their Korean-ness. I'm baffled and I would love it if anyone could shed further light on this for me!