Moving Back

In four years I have lived in four houses, in four countries scattered across two continents. And soon, in a few days, I’d be off again to make a life for myself in a new flat in the country I once lived in two years ago. And so I will have to relearn a language I used to know. And perhaps during Fridays, as before, I’d walk the night away along the winding River Han. Go back to spend the weekends walking/ eating/chatting or observing people in one of the city’s expansive parks. Back to the noise, chatter and soju bottles that are seemingly entwined with the evenings in Korea.

My Korea is a big flowing river, and now here I am, coming back, vastly different from the nervous first time OFW who stepped into its banks three years ago. I wonder what new surprises will the next few months bring to my older, more restrained self. In the face of all the changes that has gone between me and the friends I left behind in Seoul , of my now older, evolved self more sure of what she wants from the world, and the challenge of adapting back to the Korean work ethic, I wonder which part of my old life in Korea will still hold true?

My bestfriend,in light of the news that I will be leaving in a week, asked me yesterday if I was excited about this homecoming of sorts. I tell her in all honesty that I am excited but not because of the reason she has in mind. I am looking forward to meeting old friends, banking on their promises of a warm welcome back fete and my memory of the good old times, but at the back of my mind I know that it won’t be the same, two years and the fact that I’ll be most probably an hour’s train ride away from them and some other factors make me cling more to the possibility that things are different now, more distant. Still I’m sure, that though things will change, it will not be enough to completely cut our ties. If anything, there is the allure of this fresh start for myself, the memory of the little things that made me love Korea before, how these keep my spirit high and hopeful. The chance to bike again for hours along the rivers of Seoul. Or spend an afternoon climbing one of the numerous mountains scattered in the city. Meet new friends, visit the night markets, savor the city’s cheap, delicious assortment of street foods . And spend girltalks and bonding times with my Korean best pal. I tell myself that yes I’m going back, just as I’m moving on armed with my belief of beautiful beginnings.