Xenization: My Reason for Coming to Korea

Xenization - the act of traveling as a stranger.


Not that the above is the best description, but isn't this exactly what I want to do professionally? Note: FSOs live in a different country almost every two years for a good chunk of their careers. Sorry, but I didn't come to Korea specifically because my heart is set on being a teacher, and a lot of the individuals who I have met didn't either. Most of us came for the experience of living in a foreign country as an immigrant, to travel and to be challenged. My emphasis was on that last bit: to be challenged. In every sense of the word. In mind, body and spirit.


I've never seen myself as a stranger, an 'other', because I've never really been on my own. When I went to university, not only was I always living with people (uh, hello sorority housing with FIFTY OTHER WOMEN), but I was also within an hour of home...and it stunted my personal growth. I readily admit that being alone with my thoughts for extended periods of time still makes me nervous, but isn't that where you learn the most about yourself? In places where you're uncomfortable? It occurred to me that moving to Korea was the first instance in a long time that I did something that moved me past my own comfort zone.


I knew coming into this experience that that was going to be the toughest challenge for me: being alone. How fucking scary does that sound? I'm not talking about having alone time; I mean flying to a foreign country to live in a yet-to-be-determined rural city where all of 20 people speak your language, a place where the role of your support system is drastically reduced and at least one bout of homesickness is guaranteed. All of this boils down to one thing: you're going it solo, my friend. 


After almost five months of living by myself in Gyeongju, which included a solid three weeks of the homesickness dreaded by new and experienced expats alike, I'm getting to the point where I've realized that being alone is not the disastrous terror that I once envisioned it to be. The experience of being an outsider in a place that I'm supposed to call home for the next 7.5 months is still daunting, but it's easier to accept because I have realized that I can handle it. I'm looking forward to seeing how much I've grown throughout this year because I already feel different (stronger? more confident?) after a few months. And before you mumble anything else under your breath, I know that this sounds like a college application essay, but it's true. Friends have said that this type of experience will change your life and I agree with them now more than ever.


The word 'stranger' generally has this negative connotation (my mom taught me and my sisters the phrase STRANGER DANGER! from an early age and we still use it on one another to this day) of unknown individuals who may go against the grain. But I'm learning that I'm addressing the differences in people, countries and cultures here with a more positive outlook. Besides, I'm of the opinion that being interesting is a rather lovely compliment.


xo

Edit: An article on why alone time is important for everyone at every age:

But it's also important to remember that alone time is a crucial, and too often forgotten, part of development. The real world is not a constant party, or a day at camp. Real world includes downtime, and it includes alone time. And your job as a parent isn't to entertain your children 24 hours a day. Introducing your child early on to the idea of spending time alone -- and liking it -- will help your son and/or daughter become a better companion to others and get more from their relationships with friends -- and with you. They will grow to be an adult who can be happy on his/her own, or with someone else. And isn't that the goal?