A co-worker told me this morning that I will be a good daughter-in-law (you have to understand, this wouldn't seem like a strange compliment to you if you lived in Korea).
This co-worker happened to be Kang Shin-Gu (I LOVE GOLF/LOOK AT ME I'M SO CHARISMATIC P.E. Teacher), who I actually am fairly friendly with because I can be (almost) completely frank with him without the conversation becoming awkward. He's eternally a joker; he smiled when he thanked me for contributing money for his father's funeral (giving about 20,000 won [$20] is routine procedure when co-workers and acquaintances get married or have a death in the family).
The reason this came up is because a different co-worker had complimented my Korean and said she hopes I stay in Korea a long time. The implication was "You will be a good daughter-in-law [when you marry into a Korean family]." In response, I said "결혼 하고 싶지 않은데요" (we were talking in Korean). The verb ending is hard to explain, but it's essentially a polite and slightly (but not very) indirect way of saying, "But I don't want to get married..."
He was surprised (though I've told him this before, owing to our frank relationship) and asked me if I had a scar from a previous relationship. I said "그런 거 없어요. 그냥 하고 싶지 않아요." (There's nothing like that, I just don't want to.) Both co-workers agreed that I would change my mind when I was older; it's only because I'm young that I don't want to get married. I didn't try to argue with them.
It's not that I'm confused about whether I want to marry a Korean man and become a good daughter-in-law to his Korean parents. I know I don't want that, because when I say I don't want to get married, it's not something I think I'll grow out of (see: I think marriage is a sexist institution, I don't believe in "traditional family" ideals, I'm queer, etc).
What I'm confused about is how long I want to stay in Korea. I fluctuate on this, I know. Half a year ago, I was telling all of you I might stay here for 5 years. A couple months ago, I told you I was almost definitely leaving after I finish this year's contract.
Many days, I feel like I know in my gut that I won't renew my contract again (the same way last year at this same time I felt I knew that I would renew). I'm tired of being stared at on the street. Not being able to walk to the places I need to go wears on me more and more - I need to leave the city soon and live in someplace with grass everywhere. As much as I care about the environment, I hate spending forever in crowded public transit (though I have gotten used to it to some extent). I feel suffocated by the sexism, and the racism, and the heteronormativity, and the homophobia, and the body image obsessiveness, and the intrusive pressure to convert to Christianity. There are lots of things that bother me, and they grate on me more and more the longer I stay.
Then someone says to me, "I hope you stay in Korea for a long time." Or Yena says to me, "You have to stay for at least 2 more years so you can come to my wedding." (I love Yena! I would love to go to her wedding!) And then I feel regret. There are a lot of people here that I love, and the fact that they don't know me as well as they think they do doesn't negate the fact that I love them. If I leave next August, I will feel regret for not spending longer with these people, not learning Korean fluently, not hiking more mountains, not swimming in more Korean seas. I will feel guilt over leaving, as though I have an obligation to stay. (Where did this obligation come from?)
But guilt is rarely enough to make me stay somewhere, and that's probably best. If something changes before next May and makes me decide I want to stay longer, I guess I'll stay. But if the only reason to stay is guilt over leaving, it's probably time to go. I don't want to start hating Korea.
I know you have things to say about this (@bird_esque @twcwar @warmandbarky @andmyfeetare @whitpow). I feel like we don't tweet at each other or comment on each other's blogs anymore. :(
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