Yesterday at 8:50 Central time, I touched down on American soil. And let me tell you something, reader- I don't care what you think of the president, congress, the former president, war, abortion, gay marriage, taxes, or any issue at all-- the country I stepped out of O'Hare International Airport to find is the greatest country I have ever seen. People were friendly and polite, and I knew I could drive for hundreds and hundreds of miles in any direction and find a diverse spread all sharing my language and national identity.
If you've stuck with me until now, I'm more grateful than I can put in to words. Knowing that people back home (or anywhere else, since I had readers in over 10 countries, would you believe that?) were somehow with me though everything I saw and did and endured and enjoyed-- that made it worth so much more to me. The tough times were easier and the good times were better shared. I learned a lot about the world, people, history, and culture. I learned a lot about myself, too. Some of my opinions have changed (I could now see a case for gun control being a good thing), some of my opinions have been strengthened (I believe there is a Right way to treat another person, culture be damned), and all in all I understand myself better as well.
A year living and teaching abroad is not something I would repeat, but it IS something that was good for me. I will neither suggest that you should do it, not dissuade you from it if you're thinking about trying a similar adventure. I will only suggest that you look back through and understand what it was to be an expatriate, a teacher, lonely, and in the company of foreign friends. It really is an experience, going from historical battlefields to high-speed bullet-trains to the human barrage that is walking down a Seoul sidewalk. It's character building. It's resolve strengthening. It's difficult. It's fun. It's adventure. It's enlightening.
To those who believe Korea is the Asian clone of the USA- you're right on a sampling level. Korea has found specific assets of US culture (Taio Cruz and Ludacris sounds, baseball games) to latch onto in an attempt to emulate, and they throw themselves into it with gusto. But the human interactions are so deeply ingrained in a way absolutely alien to an American ("Who are you?" is irrelevant there... they ask "who are you to me?") that I remained mystified living among them for the whole year.
Again I say thank you for giving me someone to write to. Everyone who has read this- you have helped me personally. When I was sick and alone in the wintertime, exhausted but proud after black-belt tests, or ready to make a last stand against a mafia attack that never came-- it was better knowing I could share it afterwards.
That brings this adventure to its close. But only this particular adventure. One thing I have learned about myself with certainty is that I have an appetite for exploration, travel, and challenge that isn't going to be sated simply by teaching abroad for a year. There will be more to come someday. For now, though, I've flown back the 14 Hours and returned to my World. Before I say goodbye, though, I want to leave you with something that was running through my head the last month of my trip. You know how we warrior-poets are.
The Road Home
A youth with but a score of years
that in his book could scawl
set off with road beneath his soles
to see and challenge all.
His ship did sail and forge a tale
as months to seasons flew
he saw the castles' yawning gates
took tea at temples, too.
But from contagion's Northlands beathed
cold shadows, storm and war.
He saw fires swell as torrents fell
in earthen tides and seas that rise,
strange eyes were warm no more.
And when his bones sank to the stones,
dust-tears in dimming eyes,
from creaking quay far, long away
he heard the seagull cries.
Godspeed! He found a vessel strong,
brae shanties filled his ears.
Her golden lanterns-- laughing souls,
spilled warmth of bygone years
Now icy spray bears swift this day
those bold hearts off to roam
but one soul sings atop the mast-
At last! The road to home!
Thanks for everything.
Let's do this again some day.
Yours,
Jeff M. Davis.
