OK, So I’m on the final home stretch and here’s the list of things I want to do before I leave:

• Get a whole bedding set for my yoh
• Get a tattoo – I’ve finally chosen something after all these years.  Yayy!  I’m going to get orphan girl  in hangul (고아 소녀) on my neck, behind my ear running down the nape.   Instead of something stark and angry like my orphan number on my chest, now I want it to be in beautiful, flowing calligraphy.  I want it to look like an ink wash, barely out-lined and showing the pressure and fading of hand brush work. 
  I’d like to find out if the calligrapher who did this can do one for me, but I’ll have to get a Korean to help me contact the artist.  It’s not flowy in a traditional sense, but it’s lyrical in its own way.

  

  …and it should be vertical like this…

  If not, I’m going to go to Insadong and see if I can find a calligrapher to draw something first, then get an appointment with Slam at Tattoo Korea in Seoul, because he seems to be able to accomplish the kind of transparency I want.  Maybe I’ll have one of those ancient round coins with the square hole be part of the tattoo as well, as a watermark or stamp.  My only reservation is if this will be seen negatively at my new job.  At the very least, I will get the calligraphy drawn up and get the tat after the job is over in a few years.  I’ve been waiting for something meaningful that I can live with.  I like the concept of being permanently marked by adoption, yet turning it into something graceful.   

  I’ve also just written the artist of this calligraphy, which is a fusion of Hangul and Arabic calligraphy illustrating common proverbs to both cultures.  The dedication of his art really moved me:

  Kordu is dedicated to the memory of my Korean sister who went away one day and never came back. No one knows where she went but I hope and pray that all is well with her and she always gets the best in life. It is in the process of joy of happiness and the sorrow of loss that we can see a glimpse of the transcendent; good things came out of loss. It is highly likely that she may never read this dedication but I will still say, “Dear sister, keep smiling. I will always be reminded of you when I see penguins.”

I told him a little about myself and how it would be great if there was some shared common proverb about hope that he could do for me. Hope he writes back!

• Buy some Korean cookbooks by Koreans for Koreans, and not the ones for foreigner which are just typical fare, nothing special, and easily available on-line.  Also look for some vegitarian cookbooks.
• Find out where I can get the rice-straw backpack like the one at the tofu restaurant in my neighborhood.
• Go take photos of the architectural construction by some of the young clothing designers here, so I can replicate them later, all those $200+ items I can’t buy but know how to make.

Oh yeah, as an aside, I found this GREAT FONT as a FREE DOWNLOAD when I was researching images of Korean calligraphy.

Must remember to get some little folding tables  (상) and send them to my daughter as soon as she has an address. Of course the ones she likes are all sold out right now…  :(  Maybe my son would like one too.

I’d like a lot of other things, but my budget won’t allow it – even that small list will be a stretch!  When I get to the states first order of business is flying my son down for a family reunion.  Will fly into San Francisco, rent a car, and then load up the back with my things my daughter has been storing these past 3 years and the 3 of us (plus freaked-out cat) can have a little road trip to Vegas.  Then to finding an apartment and then after my Korean retirement gets reimbursed I’ll have to finance or lease a car, get a cell phone and wifi since I think my job will depend on me being hooked up, and a new computer.   It’s a MAC office, so I think It’ll be best to follow the hep crowd and do the I-phone I-pad thing.

Must prepare

• Make trip to E-marte and bring home boxes for shipping.
• Buy cheap scale so I don’t ship any box overweight.
• Get an airlines-approved cat carrier.
• Get cat micro-chipped and have her travel papers created in Seoul.
• Keep editing, editing, editing.
  But stupid me, instead of editing I’ve been buying more stuff. Looking for a shirt to match the thrift store suit to wear to the Vice Principal’s daughter’s wedding opened up a thrift store flood gate and now I’m in trouble! But it’s also a good thing, since it’s getting cold and last year I froze to death and didn’t have enough warm clothes to rotate between washings. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever washed the two wool flannel shirts and two wool sweaters I wore constantly. The better to shed water, I guess, he he…Also, my previous two winter coats were threadbare. So I bought a man’s wool over-coat, you know the kind they wore in the 60’s, but it’s like brand new because suits in Korea still appreciate wool over-coats. (The last man’s overcoat I had got singed when I backed too close to my wood stove) I can wear my hoodie under it and with a scarf be toasty and stylish. It’s not anything stylish to Koreans, but maybe I’ll set a trend or something. Like back in high-school I wore men’s slacks with high heels after reading some book where a man who loved women considered the female form under men’s clothes much more interesting and alluring than body-hugging women’s clothes. What a weird kid I was/am. (he, I’d do it today were it not for my baby-making paunch!)

I’ve decided that shipping might actually be cheaper than buying new things when I get back to the states.   Shipping by surface (without insurance or tracking) is 52,1oo won for 20 kilos.  That’s less than $50 for about 40 lb. The same weight with EMS (express mail service with tracking) is 188,900 or about $175, so I think waiting four to five weeks is worth it.  I’m going to try for six boxes.  The big question is, what address do I sent it to?  Me and my kids are all of us in limbo right now!

The remainder of my things will be going to the unwed moms.  And I’ve got A LOT of things, since I thought I was going to stay here a lot longer and made sure to be comfortable and then had all those crazy projects and did so much work at home.  It would be nice to live out of a backpack, but I was more bent on making a nice home here for whenever my kids were able to visit.  They will find someone with a car to come pick the stuff up in February.  That makes me feel great, because it’s so hard for them to come up with the cash for these things – a sewing machine, the scanner/printer, speakers, shelving, shelving, more shelving, towels, dishes, the little squirrel lamp, etc.  Even some of the stuff most of the moms may have can be given to a new mom, who probably won’t have anything.  It also saves me a huge headache because no foreigners are going to want to travel to my little town to view my stuff and take it away.

Today eating solleuntang, which I really like because you season it yourself so you can control the salt levels, I was delighted to eavesdrop on four little old men telling each other about their close encounters with foreigners. They were so proud of themselves that they told the spaniard, “next station” or “over there” and one was laughing how he couldn’t speak but had to show the American which way to go by leading him, and they were all enjoying each other’s facing fear in the face and doing okay. It was really precious. I’m going to miss moments like these.

Anyway, get thee to E-KAD and read the rest of their side-splitting e-cards.

The other day, because I have no working computer and so had no powerpoints, which are the staple of my lessons, I had to read out of the dry text book.  2/3rds of the class had no books, (this is the 2nd of the highest level students in my school – gah) and I made a face and said, “how can you call yourself students when you have no books?”  1/3 of the class got the bright idea to have an excuse to run in the halls and they made a mad dash out of the classroom. At that time I said, “while those jokers are out finding their books, let’s tell some jokes,” and I pulled out the Konglish puns my friend Joyce gave me two years ago.

Before I’d even got through even one of the puns, the co-teacher asked, “What do they win?” “HUH?”  “What’s the prize?”  Me, frowning, “The prize is you get to laugh,” I said.  The co-teacher thought this was wacky…

You know, almost three years here and pretty much inured of my culture shock, yet this competition thing still drives me crazy.

Take, for instance, A week ago after midterms and all the teachers had to go bowling as their mandatory morale activity.  Usually they don’t make me go to these things, but I thought bowling with my colleagues would be fun, as there would be less bitching as when they have to hike or play intramural sports like their last outings.  And it WAS fun!  Until halfway through it became evident it was a competition.  So half of the teachers had to sit and pick their noses while they had a playoff, which took forever.

The concept of personal best is something that just escapes all my students and their teachers.  It always has to be a competition.  And then, on the other spectrum, nobody in this society can lose.  So there are no consequences for not putting in any effort.  It’s a sea of mediocrity and resignation that one will never get ahead and a persistent focus on material gain with a resentment towards those who do win.

Speaking of competition, SuperStar K 3 is almost un-watchable for me now, as a foreigner.  There’s just too much talking by the M.C. Towards the end, there’s almost a half hour of the finalists just standing there on stage in agony.  Last week, the judges were a little too liberal with their judging at the beginning of the show and then just got tougher and tougher.  Most notable for me was this girl This girl, Lee Jeon Ah, who got a low score, but I thought her arrangement of The Eagle’s Desperado was really artistic and fortunately, Korea voted higher for her than the judges did, placing her as 4th for the evening.

Not competition related, but not having my technology crutch related, today I had the students write a bucket list.  Let me just say that if those same lists appeared in America, the police would be called and the school would be locked down.  The kids said it was just a joke, but man…scary stuff!  I told them I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.  One boy put down as item #10 (#1-9 being blank) that he wanted to see his family before he died.  I asked him where his family was, and he said Guri (about an hour away).  “And you never see them?”  Nope.  I didn’t pry because there were other students around, but of course I wondered if he was adopted.

Next week I go to the Vice Principal’s daughter’s wedding.  Nothing like having to find something to wear and cough up money for a present to someone you’ve never met in your whole life.  Fortunately, I found a disco-era gray pantsuit reminiscent of Tom Ford that looks fabulous and only cost $8.  Just need to find some shiny chemise to wear under it.  So exciting to find a vintage store that’s actually affordable. Got three other fabulous things and the total was $24.  Would have cost over $100 in Seoul.

This week is the school festival.  This school talent show/carnival is the biggest event of the school year – much bigger than exams.  It’s everyone’s chance to be like their pop idols.  (There were no school events at Baekyoung, except teachers day – there is no teacher’s day here)  I would have put together some dance routine, but nobody told me when the auditions were again, and it’s too late now.  In reality, it seems like there’s always a whole lot of reasons for not studying going on at the technical school level.  And Saturday I went to school to see if my computer might be fixed and saw a whole lot of activity going on, as club activities on Saturdays are also a whole lot of not studying.  I sometimes wonder if these things I read about Korean student stress is even real.  It just doesn’t seem like they have it so bad.  It seems like every other day they compensate for the pressure – maybe even too much.

I’ve stopped eating rice this past week and I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER.  Of course, every Korean has to comment and they all think I’m crazy.  They can’t comprehend that rice = carbohydrate = stored fat, or that I could possibly enjoy a meal without it or feel full without it.  Most times I walk away from a meal feeling like a slug, but by eliminating the rice the portions become perfect, though the rice does cut the huge amount of salt and red pepper, so the dishes seem even more heavy-handed on the seasoning than ever before.

Just edited my closet of emergency clothes that don’t work.  They’re in little piles all over the kitchen floor.   There’s not enough time to put them away, so I imagine when I get home Momo will have dragged them all over the place.  Little miss is kind of funny, though, as I’ve seen her running around the house wearing my underwear in the past.

Feeling really anxious about the future, as nothing’s set and if Vegas doesn’t transpire I’ve got no compass.  Next month is the dreaded “open classroom” again where the Native English Teacher has to prepare a showcase lesson and pretend they slave that hard every day and engage the kids as if they were best buddies and include the Korean English Teacher in the lesson as if they cared to help every day and make them look good.  I’m told this one is really really important.  I get the sense that this year will be the deciding factor whether the school district will even continue the high school program…This entire school year is just treading water, every day.  Not a good feeling, despite being pretty at peace with myself.  I’m just longing to be settled and have some security after so many decades in limbo.  It’s not like I don’t recognize that even with Vegas I’ll become settled – but it’s a darn sight better than having the reduction axe hanging over your head, in a job where your hands are tied, the rewards are few, and which separates you from everything you care about.  Still, it’s easy and pays relatively well.

Tread water.  Try to appreciate the small blessings.

Sorry I’ve not written much lately:  I have to use the computer on the sly, because Momo knows the Macbook has no battery and diabolically will knock the famous break-away magnetic Apple power cord out of the computer by either stepping on it or pulling it off with her mouth, killing it instantly.  Attempts to tape the cord or tie the cord in place have failed, and at the first sign of typing on the keyboard (and not playing with her), she (literally) pulls the plug on that activity.  To type at all, I have to repeatedly toss her from the desktop to the bed.  Over and over again.  My tolerance level is about six shut-downs and reboots, but that’s stretching it.  Sometimes I can type with one hand while I keep her busy with the laser pointer with the other hand, but that is not sustainable.  The only thing that works is shutting her out of the room, but that’s just heartbreaking and, um, LOUD, and thank God the doors are plastic, but the sound of her nails on them is unbearable.

Sometimes, it’s so ludicrous, I have to sit in the middle of the room far from any desk or table, just so she can’t reach me and the power cord.  Lasts about five minutes.  I’d go outside if my macbook had a battery.  I’d buy a battery, but the cost is so steep it’s just not worth it since this computer’s already living on borrowed time.

It’s taken me THREE DAYS to write this much, because she wakes up as soon as she hears the keyboard.

I also have an HP a friend left me, but Momo chewed through its power cord.  On ambitious days I bring my school’s lap-top home because it has a bigger screen and doesn’t sound like death, and I have to guard the cord so Momo doesn’t chew it to pieces too.  Only Thursday it crashed at school and is being reformatted now.  Three months of lessons and resources all gone…Amazing how computer-dependent I am, as I had no idea what to do with myself all Friday…at least I backed up a quarter of the year.

I’m pretty much hostage to this cat:   I can’t exercise, or she’ll attack me.  I can’t paint or draw or sew or knit or do anything where there is any movement, as she’ll turn whatever it is into something to kill.  Despite the herbal sedatives, which I couldn’t live without, btw, I still have bites on my wrists and ankles.

I can’t play with her because she turns into a wild creature that literally bounces off the walls and knocks everything over.  If we have any moments at all, then she makes a beeline for my ear to chew on it, purring.  It’s a totally hysterical relationship and I’m convinced the only cure is another companion.  But I can’t get her a playmate because I can’t ship two animals in the middle of winter.  Plus there’s the expense.  I hope that, should Vegas actually materialize, she’s not too old and set in her ways when I am finally able to get her a companion there, as she’s almost full-grown now.

But it’s still nice to come to someone so excited to see me, even though I often come home to the curtains ripped down from the wardrobe, and toilet paper shredded and trailing all over the house, and my clothes pulled out and scattered everywhere…and to wake up to a warm little body lying beside me, and to share the bathroom sink and play in the water while I’m brushing or constantly jump on the counter when I try to cook or…  Sometimes  when we are having a nice moment I accidentally call her June, my favorite all-time cat, and wonder why this one is such a handful.  And then I remember that June had Henry for many years.  Okay, Momo, I will find you a Henry when we get home, wherever that is.

Today I spoke with an adoptee friend who’s family found her, and she asked about the status of my search…

…and I told her how I’ve come to accept that my search is over.

For someone as old as myself, who has exhausted all available avenues, it’s just a cold reality one must accept if one is to move on with their life. I say this even as I continue to advocate for adoptee birth family search, and as I continue to put energy into that advocacy and into the seemingly futile efforts at preserving post adoption birth family search services that are not run by the people that brokered our exportation. I work on the website – yet another registry attempt – knowing full well it is a flash in the pan, a redundant and incomplete effort, unknown to most who need it/could benefit by it. And yet, it is so important.

It’s important because these redundant efforts at connection and finding lost family are all we’ve got.

My hope is that one day, instead of these individual, intermittent lights occasionally breaking through the cloudy night sky, there can instead one day be erected a beacon so bright and known that all know to look for it: a beacon whose light never wavers or burns out, that guides lost wayfarers home. Just as countries sign conventions to preserve records of adoptees with a central authority, we adoptees and our original families searching for each other need a center for our search efforts, and a real commitment to our post adoption needs.

Because whereas it may be too late for my omma and I to reunite, it’s not too late for all the later waves of adoptees sent abroad. The beacon needs to be erected for them, and there’s no time to waste, because ommas get old and die, and so do we.

You know, the world is a f**d up place. The privileged benefit by exercising their imperialist advantage. Families are dysfunctional. Women are abused. Children are the collateral damage. But even in the face of all the factors that separate us, whatever it was that begat us, it still is our truth to own.

I have been known to joke about hating people yet loving humanity. I feel the same way about adoptees. I’m not especially enamored with them, but I love them, my brothers and sisters, for all we have suffered. And though I will continue to try and live a life not dictated by my adoption and jokingly call myself a former adoptee, I will/must continue to work on this beacon. Because it’s about humanity. By erasing our identities, we were stripped of that. And even if I never get my own, by helping others I get closer…

So I’d decided this year that there is no such thing as justice for us.  The past is something we can’t do anything about:  there is only now and the future.  So it just does no good to waste energy on the past.  And as for history, we record that with our narratives.  And as for making our mark – I’m happy to leave that to other people who care more about that than learning how to live well with what they’ve got.

What I do care about is pretty basic – let’s be treated fairly today. Let’s not forget that adoptees who’ve been displaced still deserve that.

Currently government funding of Birth Family Searches has been withdrawn, and the Korean government is surveying how to redistribute funds to support implementation of the adoption law revision, whose language primarily is concerned with children’s rights (which we support) but which woefully neglects to address many adoptee rights issues.  With or without adoptee activism, Korea is ready to stop being seen as the baby exporting nation.  But it still doesn’t know how to take care of its own people without resorting to private adoption agencies to reduce their social services.  It is an uncertain time for those of us with a vested interest, in this country with a 6% tax base.

Who’s going to take care of our adoptee needs?   I certainly have no confidence in the adoption agencies, the same people who brokered our exportation, to do it.  The government’s previous proposals appear to do it, but in actuality they still defer to the adoption agencies to do it, so I greatly fear it will be business as usual, with new clothes.

So what I’ve been spending my time on lately is this:

Sadly, this isn’t the first and this won’t be the last attempt to do what others fail to do for us. However, I hope to make this as comprehensive as possible. Please poke around and see the structure and its early posts. It’s only going to get better and better, as I fill it with content I’ve gathered from all the other neglected places.

Looking desperately for bi-lingual volunteers to translate little bits here and there. Please contact me if you’re interested in helping out!