Hello from Seoul ~ Today’s newsletter won’t have much published work, but I’ll share some snaps of my trip.
I’ve been in Seoul for exactly four weeks. There was a heavy sense of dread the few days before I boarded the plane with my son. Mainly because I wasn’t looking forward to a 14 hour flight with a baby who wouldn’t have his own seat. An active and extremely curious baby. Luckily, he didn’t wail or cry for the whole 14 hours, however, I had to hold him for almost 9.5 hours with the help of my mom. Yes, it was as horrible as it sounds but it was ok. I reminded myself that eventually we would land, eventually he would be in his stroller and eventually I would be walking around in Seoul. And it was true. 14.5 hours later, I was in Seoul on May 1st.
I had a lot of expectations for how I would feel when I got to Seoul. I expected to feel like I was home, I expected to feel comfort and enjoyment. But that none of that came to be true. I was feeling out of place. I felt a strong dislike for where I was. I didn’t understand why. I was able to come to Seoul finally with the support of a grant AND a national publication to work on a project I had been dreaming about for 5 years. But something didn’t feel right.
It hit me - this place was NOT the place I had left it 5 years prior. People were gone. Buildings weren’t where I was used to seeing them. The vibes of certain neighborhoods had faded. You can only see remnants of what was. Ironically, the project I’m working on is exploring this exact idea. A group of people who are fading away and no longer existing. Early on in my trip, I was thinking “Ugh, should I just go back home?” “Why did I come here with my baby… was this a mistake???” but each day, I had no choice but to keep going. A grant, an editor, reporters and willing sources were waiting for me to show up. Sometimes a force perseverance is necessary.
Persevering allowed me to make special memories with my siblings, with my parents, my husband and my son. Persevering allowed me to see that most things are temporary. There is an end, even if I don’t know where and when that might be. And knowing there’s an end to all things has me wanting to be present.
There’s a Korean word “버텨” (botyo) which essentially means “hang in there” “endure” or “last” and I think this has been the spirit of Korean people as a whole. I feel it in my bones and that it’s something necessary to survive. Saying “botyo” to someone is like telling them they need to keep existing, they need to last. I think about each person I’ve met on this trip for my project about displaced people from the north. They’ve lasted this long. They have this deep hope that they may be able to go back home and maybe this is why they’ve “버텨’ed'” for so long.
I talk about persevering because it has also been what has allowed me to come so far. Recently someone asked me how long I’ve been freelancing for, and I’m actually shocked that I can say it’s been technically for almost 11 years. I keep going because I want to see the possibilities become realities. There were some years of freelancing that felt fruitless. Some days and months of feeling like I was going in circles. And never in my wildest dream did I ever expect to receive funding for an international reporting work trip.
Other things…
I photographed a mother for a story that Insider recently published about parental alienation and the junk science that supports it.
In Kyunghee Kim’s Late Bloomers Club most recent post, she talks about holding space for grief and goodness
Arin Yoon and Shuran Huang pitched this story about Asian American restaurant owners and their legacy with additionally photography by Celeste Noche
Thanks to my friend Michelle for sharing this wonderful episode of the Quitters podcast with Mayim Bialik where she discusses quitting Hollywood, academia, hyper-vigilance, and what happens in our brain when we decide to quit something.
It’s late in Seoul, so that’s all for now! Thanks for reading through.