“What could you possibly learn when you study in an English speaking country?” I thought to myself. I saw living abroad as a way to immerse myself into a different culture, not a to live the same life I had in the States but with accents. So I spent nearly a year in Rome trying, but ultimately failing, to master the Italian language and two years in Korea fumbling over every sound that came out of my mouth while discovering a cuisine and lifestyle that were entirely foreign to me.

And then I became a huge hypocrite and moved to London.

At this point in my life it became less about living abroad and learning another language and being immersed in another culture and more about actually being able to live and study and maybe one day have a career. I knew I wanted to get a Master’s degree and since English is the only language I can really speak, my choices were somewhat limited.

On most days London doesn’t feel all that foreign. I can easily converse with shopkeepers and servers. I can read menus. I understand when they make announcements about why the District Line is inevitably stopped once again in the middle of a tunnel. I can get good burgers and beer, two things that were seriously lacking in Asia. Being an expat in an English speaking country doesn’t only make day to day life easier, it also makes it easier to understand and learn about the culture of my new home.

There are many surface level similarities between American and English culture, but if you look past these and the common language, there’s actually a strong British culture that is much different than the US.

I’ve been able to learn about the different areas of England and the stereotypes about the people, good or bad, who come from them. My friends have taught me about English history and because I can read blogs and social media posts I’ve been able to discover places like Netil Market and Brixton Village, two of my favorite places in London. I can recognize different English accents, even if I can’t understand what people are saying in them. I’ve learned to never, ever look anyone in the eye on the tube and that English people are the reigning champions of both sarcasm and passive aggressiveness. I’ve discovered that pubs aren’t a place to get drunk. They are also a community gathering place. And one that will be very crowded and loud during a rugby match of all things.

Oh, and if you think there are no differences in language try shouting “my pants are soaking wet” after a friend spills a glass of wine in your lap at pub.

Life as an American expat in London isn’t incredibly difficult. There’s never been a time where I tell the taxi driver my destination and end up in a completely different part of the city with no way to explain where I actually need to be. I can walk around, and until I open my mouth, not automatically be labeled “foreigner”.  

As an American I find London to be pleasantly foreign. There are enough differences- culturally, architecturally, culinarily- that give me that warm, fuzzy “I’m living in a different country” feeling and allow me to feel like I’m learning and being challenged. But at the same time I feel like I can live life here. That I can contribute to society and be accepted as more than just a foreigner or expat.

The Life of an American Expat in London is a post from: Farsickness

But I woke up in my bed in London. And even though it was a beautiful spring day, the kind that usually has me so thankful to be in this city, I wished I wasn’t here.

A few hours later I read Waegook Tom’s post about the food he misses most from Korea.

Shortly after, Sheryll posted some beautiful pictures from her weekend in Seoul.

My mind began to wander to what I’d do if I could go back to Seoul. I would eat dalk galbi, galmaegisal, kimchi jjigae, and cheese donkkaseu at my favorite restaurants. I would drink makkeoli at Han River Park on Yeouido. I would wander down the streets of Cheonho, the neighborhood where I lived my first year in Seoul, and notice the familiar neon signs written in what was once an unfamiliar script. I would spend a night drinking until sunrise in Hongdae. I’d hike a mountain and take in the cityscape- all the tall white buildings built in clusters. And a little less seriously, I’d get my magic straight redone.

My dream and my daydreams led me to Kayak. I knew what the results would be before I pressed the find flights button.

Out of my price range. Way out of my price range.

A return to Seoul is not happening now. In fact, it probably won’t happen for a while.

The hardest part of being a temporary expat or traveler is having to say goodbye to the places that meant a lot to you. When I left Korea a little over a year ago I wrote about how much the country had changed me. But besides the bigger impact, Korea was the first place out of college where I had a life. I had my own apartment, a job with a steady paycheck, a group of friends, and a serious relationship. I had my local restaurants, a daily routine, and my favorite bars. The dry cleaner always recognized me (probably because I was the only foreigner who went there), I had a preferred ramyeon, and got used to shoving chopsticks and spoons into communal food. I was content, happy even.

Was it stupid to give up a life like that?

I knew I couldn’t achieve my long term goals if I stayed in Korea. Teaching wasn’t a job I enjoyed and being an English teacher in Korea doesn’t really lead to much career advancement. I can’t speak the language and even if I did, I have no desire to work 12 hour workdays as a corporate drone. And as much as I love the country, it’s not a place that is incredibly welcoming to foreigners.

By the end of my two years there I was ready to move on. The more frustrating aspects of Korean culture were wearing my patience thin. I was ready to travel. A lot of my close friends had already left the country for opportunities elsewhere. I couldn’t settle down just yet.

So I shipped my belongings back to the States, packed a bag, and hit the road for a few months. I said goodbye to my friends and ate at my favorite foods one last time. I accepted a place on a Master’s course in the United Kingdom. I came back to the US. I ended my relationship. I moved to London.

I am happy in London and though my heart still aches for the places I’ve left it around the world, I know I made the right decision. As hard as it is to say goodbye to people and places that shape you, sometimes you need to move on.

Have you ever left your heart somewhere?

When Your Heart is Halfway Around the World is a post from: Farsickness

Um.

Hobbies?

I quickly wracked my brain. Some people might count this blog as a hobby, I guess. I do like photography. Is travel a hobby? What about eating? Drinking beer?

As my classmates went on about instruments they played, sports teams they wanted to join, and other remarkable talents, it hit me. I have no traditional hobbies.

So went I got home that night I ordered a cheap ukulele off Amazon. I’d had an interested in learning to play for a few years and I figured the ukulele could be my hobby. I would teach myself.

Four the past four months, the ukulele sat in the corner of my room, next to my wardrobe, gathering dust. West Wing reruns were far more interesting than learning chords and trying to remember how to read music.

Then Lorraine emailed a couple of weeks ago asking if I’d like to come a Learn To Uke taster course. These are informal, one night classes for adults with no ukulele experience at all. You turn up at a pub, they supply the ukes, and in an hour or so you will be playing your first song.

I, of course, said yes and on a Wednesday night two weeks ago my friend Alicia and I made our way to the Phoenix Artist Club for a night of music. And beer. Music and beer.

Lorraine  introduced herself and Learn to Uke and promised that even if we had no idea what we were doing, we would be fine. Her confidence and enthusiasm were really engaging and made me feel like I had a slim chance at being able to be successful.

We started off by learning three chords. Lorraine has come up with a creative way to quickly and easily teach finger placement, especially for those of us new to stringed instruments. After practicing the chords and transitions for a while, we started to play our first song- “In the Jungle”. It started off easily enough, but I soon realized that singing while playing an instrument is harder than it might seem. At least for me.

After a short break (for more beer), we continued on, learning a few more chords and then tackling one of my favorite songs, “Hey Jude”. Even though everyone wasn’t super confident with their playing ability, everyone was very involved in the singing and seemed to be having a lot of fun.

When the class was over I actually found myself a little sad. Lorraine did a wonderful encouraging everyone and made learning the ukulele fun. I’m not very musically inclined (to put it gently) and I’m also fairly uncoordinated, but she was right there helping me and making sure I didn’t feel too frustrated. I hope that when my uni coursework slows done I’ll be able to really learn to uke.

And maybe someday I can call it a hobby.

If you’d like to learn to play the ukulele in London, check out Learn to Uke’s website or Twitter.

Disclaimer: Learn to Uke provided me with a free taster class. They did not ask that I write a review of any sort.

What are your hobbies? Have you ever learned to play an instrument as an adult?

In Search of a Hobby: Learning to Uke is a post from: Farsickness

But when you’re an expat Friendsgiving is Thanksgiving. When you’re an expat your friends become your family. I’ve said it before, but expat friendships develop quickly and strongly. So it makes sense to break bread with the family you’ve created in your adopted country on the fourth Thursday in November because you’re thousands of miles away from your own.

This was my fifth consecutive Thanksgiving away from the United States. Every year but one I’ve celebrated in some way, from a mini feast with my host family in Rome to a meal in a pub that culminated in abortion shots with friends, I always make time for my favorite holiday.

This year, though, I wanted to actually have Thanksgiving. I finally live in a country with easy access to all the necessary ingredients. I have an oven and space to host. And I have a lot of free time. So it was decided that a Thanksgiving dinner would be held at my little flat in Richmond.

I would make the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes, Meghan would take on marshmallow yam casserole and a salad, Alicia would contribute green bean casserole and a pumpkin pie, and Claire would prepare glazed carrots and the gravy. Everything you need for a Thanksgiving dinner!

On Monday Claire and I went grocery shopping for everything we’d need to prepare this rather large meal. Claire was shocked by the large amount of everything I was buying (“Do we really need that huge stick of butter?”) but if I was doing this, I was doing it in a truly American go big or go home way. Except for the turkey. The turkey had obviously not been injected with a mass amount of hormones and looked like a large chicken rather than the enormous birds I was used to in the States. (Probably a good thing.)

World’s smallest kitchen.

Speaking of the turkey, when we got home I realized that I was not only cooking a turkey for the first time and preparing a meal for 8 people, I was also doing to be doing it in the world’s smallest kitchen. In lieu of defrosting the turkey in the refrigerator, it defrosted in the communal laundry room, and the bread for the stuffing dried on our only large table. In the living room.

Doesn’t everyone defrost their turkey in a storage room?

And cook their gravy in a crock pot on the living room floor?

Thursday morning arrived and I was anxious. I had a lot of things to prepare and a lot of people to please. Once the stuffing was prepared and put into trays and the potatoes were peeled and cut I had to deal with my nemesis- the cooking of this turkey. I decided to use Tom Colicchio’s herb butter turkey recipe in hopes that my inexperience in cooking large fowl would be offset by the large amounts of butter.

Millicent before being cooked.

And even though I cooked the turkey at a temperature about 100 degrees lower than what I was supposed to for the first two hours (damn old English ovens and gas marks instead of temperatures), it turned out spectacularly.

Success!

The last thirty or so minutes were hectic with everyone trying to put the finishing touches on their dishes. We had a rather severe burn, the rolls were remembered seconds before they turned completely black, and all the dishes wouldn’t fit into the oven. But in the end, everything ended up at the table. And was delicious.

Eight of us, five Americans and three Brits, gathered around the table where we ate too much, drank a lot of wine, and told stories that would probably never get told at a family Thanksgiving. The stress of the day was more than worth it for this successful Friendsgiving Thanksgiving.

Though I do still miss my family on days like this, I was very happy to spend Thanksgiving with these girls. I am most thankful for the people I’ve met while living abroad. My expat friendships are some of my strongest and deepest and my friendships from living in Rome, Seoul, and London will always be some of my most treasured.

Friendsgiving as Thanksgiving isn’t a bad thing.

When Friendsgiving is Thanksgiving is a post from: Farsickness

Oh, and I moved to London.

If you’re following me on Instagram or Twitter you’re probably already aware of this, but if you’re not, I will now fill you in. I arrived in London on the last day of August to begin a Master’s degree in digital journalism. Moving to London is a dream realized- I’ve been wanting to live in this city since 2009. And now it’s happening.

The past couple of weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind.

Luck was on my side with the housing search and soon after I arrived my friend’s roommate had an offer of a free flat and suddenly her room was available. So now I’m about to sign a 15 month lease for a flat in Richmond to live with my friend Claire who I met when we were au pairs in Rome four years ago. I found a bed on Gumtree last week, printed off some photos of my travels, and have an epic trip to IKEA planned for this weekend. Settling down has never felt so good.

Flatmates. In Assisi four years ago.

I’ve also started a rather intensive digital bootcamp. This is a pre-term course designed for those on the Master’s who don’t have a background in computer programming. While I’ve spent hours tooling around on the Internet and started writing craptastic Geocities websites at the age of ten, I don’t really have a great knowledge of coding. And holy shit, it’s hard. I now know a career in JavaScript programming will not be in my future.

There’s also been a pub crawl in Richmond and a food tour of the East End. I’m trying to learn to navigate the city’s public transport system as efficiently as possible and remember to say trousers instead of pants. I’ve been meeting a ton of really awesome new people and avoiding looking at my bank account (holy exchange rate).

And mostly I’ve just been really happy that I’m finally here.

This blog might take a little turn over the course of this year. I’m still going to travel. I’ll probably even write about it. But there’s probably going to be a lot more about London and about life because maybe now I’m finally not as farsick as I used to be.

And I’m thinking that it’s not a bad thing.

I Moved Again…and Other News is a post from: Farsickness

Spring in Gyeongju, Korea

Korea changed me. This country forced me to grow up a little bit more. It forced me learn to about myself. It forced me to become a stronger person. When I was sitting aboard an Asiana Airlines flight almost two years ago to the day, I hadn’t the faintest ideas what the next 730 days would hold and I couldn’t have guessed even if I’d tried.

Samcheok, Korea

Coming to Korea in February 2011 was a fairly rash decision. I’d quit a job I hated in September and moved back in with my parents. Except my parents had also moved, from my childhood home in Michigan to Kentucky, so I was in a city where I knew absolutely no one save my mother and father, had no job or social activities to force me to meet people or leave the house, and had no clue where I was going or what to do. I applied for countless jobs around the United States, still unsure of what I wanted to do, and either heard nothing or found myself reading a rejection email a few weeks later.

Seoul, Korea

In January I had a promising job opportunity at an exciting company and traveled to Chicago for a final round interview. When I found out a couple days later that I hadn’t been offered the position, I laid in bed crying for a few hours and then emailed my friend Danielle who’d moved to Seoul to teach English a few weeks earlier. She said she liked it so far.

That was all I needed. I immediately started contacting recruiters and gathering the various documents needed for the visa. About a week later I was signing a contract.

At a temple stay at Sudeoksa

I landed in Seoul on February 27, 2011 with a bunch of suitcases and zero expectations. The only Korean words I knew were kimchi and soju. A school employee drove me to Gangdong-gu, handed me a bag with a bottle of water, roll of toiler paper, and package of cookies, and left me in an empty apartment. I had no idea what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

A traditional Korean Saturday night.

A couple of days later I found myself standing in front of 12 six year olds, their eyes wide, ready for me to do something. My palms were sweaty and my voice shook as I spoke. But somehow, 12 months of really long days later I sat on the floor of an auditorium hysterically crying as I said goodbye to the small children who had somehow taught me so much despite their lack of years. I moved apartments and changed jobs, ready for the second year in Korea that I’d never planned, not yet ready to say goodbye to this place or the people I’d met.

My favorite students.

Teaching, working, and living in Korea, the good and the bad, changed my life and who I am. Yes, it’s a huge freaking cliche and you probably heard it from all your friends after their junior year semester abroad, but it’s true. Living in a foreign country allows you to fully examine who you are because you are placed in this completely new environment with people you don’t know.

Seoul, Korea

What did I learn about myself in Korea?

1. I am an introvert who is somewhat shy and reserved…

I can be shy. I have a hard time sticking up for myself or making my opinions known, especially in work settings. I’m also an introvert. I could easily spend days by myself reading, writing, and screwing around the Internet. I mean, I like going out with my friends and doing things, but I also need some time to decompress.

I’ve known this for a long time but I always thought it was a bad thing that I wasn’t the bubbly, outgoing girl that I thought the world wanted. Through growing up and meeting other, similar people I realized that being a shy introvert isn’t bad. It’s just me.

Meeting the former mayor of Seoul on Korean Independence Day.

2. …but I can assert myself when necessary.

As a foreign English teacher in Korea, especially at a hagwon, it can be easy to get taken advantage of. I spent a year working for some of the most inane people I’ve ever met and it forced me out of my shell. I learned to stick up for myself and to say no, something I’d before been horrible at. When our directors suddenly changed two weeks before my contract was due to end and my end of contract flight money was in jeopardy, I made it known that I was pissed.

Before I had been scared to stick up for myself and be assertive, but now I know that it actually feels good to let your opinion be known in situations that really matter.

Jeju Island, Korea

3. I can speak in front of a group of people without hyperventilating.

I’ve always been terrified of public speaking. You know the first day of classes in college discussion sections when you have to introduce yourself? I’d have heart palpitations before saying my name, hometown, and major in front of 15 of my peers. One of my biggest fears about coming to Korea was having to stand up in front of people and talk all day. I soon realized that with kids, it’s pretty easy. But then open class happened.

Open class is a day when parents come and watch their children’s classes. They then fill out evaluation forms about the teacher. So I basically had to put on a show for 12 stoic faced Korean mothers who were paying a lot of money for their children to attend to this school while they judged me. It was horrifying.

After about four of these, though, I realized I could get through it. That even though they were judging me, they weren’t complete insane people with little regard for other humans. I’ll probably never like public speaking, but I can do it if absolutely necessary without having a panic attack.

Busan, Korea

4. Bad things suck, but good people make them better.

My first year in Korea was this strange mix of not great and so awesome. My job was a disaster (except for my amazing students). I worked nearly 11 hour days, with little vacation time and no sick days. My bosses were unorganized and inept. They had unrealistic expectations and very little managerial strengths. And did I mention I was teaching 8 or 9 classes a day? There were many days I spent my lunch break on Delta’s website contemplating buying a ticket home.

Some great friends.

But the people I met that year made staying worth it. I was lucky to have an amazing group of coworkers turned friends who were all in favor of going to 7-11 after work for beers and bitching. Which turned into whiskey shots, 5 am Burger King trips, and cab rides debating over whether or not it is okay to start a sentence with the word and.

More amazing people. Photo courtesy of Tobye.

These people made my time in Korea really memorable and taught me that with a lot of good people in your corner, you can make it through a lot with a smile on your face.

Seonyudo, Korea

5. I want to write.

This is probably the most important thing that I learned in Korea, and it’s funny because writing is what I wanted to do for the first 18 years of my life. From a young age I always had my nose stuck in a book and first dreamt of writing the next Great American Novel before turning my aspirations to being a sports journalist. Once I got to college, a huge college without a journalism degree, I got lost. There were a lot of paths I could’ve gone down to achieve my original goal, but for a lot of reasons, I didn’t.

Trying our best to assimilate. Photo courtesy of Mackenzie.

Then I got to Korea and started blogging. I realized again how much I like to write. People started to read. I got some good feedback (okay, it was mostly from my family). I realized I needed to get over my fears of not succeeding or not being able to write well and actually make this happen. I want to write.

Mureung Valley, Korea

I am excited for what’s to come, but I say goodbye to Korea with a somewhat heavy heart.

안녕히계세요 and 감사합니다.

What have you learned about yourself through travel and life abroad?

Farewell Korea: What I Learned in the Land of the Morning Calm is a post from: Farsickness

Luckily, there are a few enterprising people here in Korea who have started businesses to help us longing expats by bringing what we miss straight to our mailboxes. Unfortunately, while they still can’t ship you your mom when your sick or a six pack of Bell’s Two Hearted Ale (a girl can dream), they have devised a way to conveniently sell us expats the food we crave from home.

Gringos Burritos

Mike and Mark are the masterminds behind the delivery burrito company Gringos. After a disappointing night out at a Mexican restaurant in Itaewon (I think all expats in Korea can tell a similar story), these two expats from Canada and the US (Los Angeles), respectively, decided to do something in order to introduce the real taste of Mexico to the Korean peninsula. Gringos was born.

Mike and Mark decided on a delivery service for two reasons, opening a restaurant can be quite costly and delivery would allow them to reach more customers. The majority of the ingredients for the Gringos menu come from the local market, with a few harder to get items coming from Costco. Mike and Mark both work full time as English teachers and spend their free time working to make Gringos a success, putting in time after work on the weekdays and spending 12-14 hours a day assembling the burritos on the weekends.

Gringos currently offers five different burritos and three side items. I tried the carne asada, chicken, tofu, and bacon breakfast burritos. While they aren’t Chipotle, for frozen Mexican delivered to my door in Korea, it did the trick. My favorites were the carne asada and bacon breakfast burritos. I also tried the salsa and refried bean side dishes. While I wasn’t a huge fan of the refried beans, the salsa was the best I’ve had in Korea and reminded me of my favorite local brand back in the United States.

The prices are reasonable at 5,500 won per burrito (except for the carne asada which is 7,000 won) and each order is shipped frozen at the beginning of the week in a styrofoam container. There is a minimum of six items per order.

For more information or to place an order visit their website. 

Alien’s Day Out

Mipa Lee, a vegan who has been living in Korea since 2006, started her blog Alien’s Day Out to chronicle what it is like to be vegan in a country known for its grilled meat. When she realized that it was hard to find animal free baked goods here, Mipa began experimenting with the recipes of some of her favorite treats that she had missed since going vegan. After getting a lot of good feedback from family, friends, and customers at local events, she started the Alien’s Day Out online bake shop in order to share her love of compassionate eating.

I first ordered from Alien’s Day Out my first fall in Korea. I’m not vegan (or vegetarian) but I was craving pumpkin baked goods something fierce and was introduced to Alien’s Day Out by my coworkers. My pumpkin chocolate chip bread satisfied my autumn baked good needs and I was hooked.

In addition to bread, Mipa sells muffins, cookies, and takes custom orders for cakes and cupcakes, which are beautiful. Most recently I ordered chai muffins, banana nut bread, and an order of the “surprise me” cookies. The chai muffins were the perfect breakfast, filling with just enough spice and the banana bread was the best banana bread I’ve ever had. It was sweet and incredibly moist. My favorite of the package, though, was my order of surprise cookies. The “surprise me” cookies gets you one order of an off the menu item. I received some tea cookies that were amazing. Like, beyond amazing.

If you’ve never had vegan treats and are scared they won’t taste good, don’t be. If you’re ordering from Mipa you’ll have no idea these are animal product free!

For more information or to place an order visit her website. You can also purchase Alien’s Day Out baked goods at High Street Market and Botton Cafe in Itaewon.

Hummus in Korea

Katie and Jared are the expat couple behind this relatively new hummus delivery business. The engaged American and Kiwi duo started making hummus for dinner parties and camping trips with their friends in Korea. The hummus was a hit and they decided to turn their hobby into a business. Hummus in Korea started off as a smaller operation, with orders being delivered by hand in the Bundang area only. After pressure from some friends in Seoul and Chuncheun, though, Jared and Katie decided to start delivering around the country.

Katie and Jared use their free time during the week to prep the hummus, which is frozen before it is shipped. They explained that hummus lasts only 7 days in the fridge but can last up to 4 months in the freezer. Shipping takes 2 days, which would cut down drastically on the time the customer would have the enjoy the product.

Hummus in Korea currently offers 4 flavor of hummus: Jalapeno Heaven, Roasted Red Pepper, Crazy for Garlic, and Spicy Sensation and prices range from 5,500 won to 6,500 won for a 250 gram container. I tried the Jalapeno Heaven and Crazy for Garlic flavors. The texture was a bit different than what I normally expect from hummus (Katie and Jared explain that this is due to the freezing), but the flavors were phenomenal. The jalapeno was my favorite- just enough spice to keep it interesting, but not so much that it overpowered the other flavors.

Katie and Jared have said that they want to keep Hummus in Korea a somewhat small operation, but as long as people want to buy it, they will be there to sell it!

For more information or to place an order visit their website.

What delivery option sounds the best to you?

Delicious Delivery Options in Korea is a post from: Farsickness

1. Find a celebration in the city you’re in

If you’re in a large city, there will most likely be bars or restaurants hosting a dinner or event in honor of the holidays. For Thanksgiving in Seoul, for example, check out the bars and restaurants in the foreigner district of Itaewon. Last year, I went to Craftworks, a microbrewery, for dinner. For around 30,000 won ($30) you got a plate piled high with turkey and all the fixings and a choice of dessert. It was fun to get together with my American coworkers and have dinner in a festive atmosphere. This year I’m heading to a buffet at Gecko’s where I plan on overeating in true Thanksgiving fashion.

Craftworks Thanksgiving dinner.

2. Make your own party

Don’t want to go out? Host your own party. Gather up some friends, American or not, and recreate your holiday favorites. When I was an au pair in Rome, I suggested to my host family that I cook them an American Thanksgiving dinner. They immediately said yes, and were excited to have the opportunity to experience an American holiday. In lieu of a whole turkey, something I couldn’t afford on my au pair salary, I pan fried turkey breasts. For sides, I made my dad’s stuffing recipe, green beans with pancetta, and mashed potatoes. I even baked a pumpkin pie for dessert. My host parents brought a bottle of white wine, and we enjoyed a nice meal and cultural exchange.

My host kids made Thanksgiving crafts.

And then we ate.

3. Call your family back home

The Thanksgiving I spent in Rome was my first real holiday abroad and I was nervous that I’d be a complete homesick mess. I combated this by talking to my family a lot. We Skyped while my dad talked me through the stuffing recipe, and then spoke again after we’d both eaten. The next year I was in London on Thanksgiving and not doing anything to celebrate. But I chatted with my family while I walked down Bond Street looking at the Christmas lights, and even though I was far away, I felt a lot closer, and a little bit like I was part of the celebrations back home.

4. Do something extra fun

If all else fails, just do something special. Maybe you aren’t opening presents on Christmas morning, but that gives you time to get a massage and facial at a fancy hotel. In London, I decided to do a Beatles walking tour on Thanksgiving. The Beatles are my favorite band, and even though it wasn’t turkey, it was something that was special. Choose something that you wouldn’t normally do, or that you’ve always wanted to experience, and make that your holiday celebration for the year.

Crossing Abbey Road in Thanksgiving.

How have you coped with spending holidays abroad? What were your favorite holiday celebrations that you’ve had away from home?

Flashback Friday: Spending Holidays Abroad is a post from: Farsickness

I’m sitting in bed on a Sunday morning, unwrapping the McDonalds cheeseburger that was just delivered to my apartment, wearing no pants, and trying to nurse a mild hangover when I hear a knock on my door. I wonder briefly who this could be, and thinking it is the McDonalds delivery man who’d forgotten something, ask Tara to answer it.

Seconds later a very small, very old Korean woman is standing next to my bed.

“Anyeonghaseyo,” she says.

I stare at her blankly. She repeats it two more times before I realize she wants me to answer.

“Anyeonghaseyo,” I mumble back as Tara appears in the room.

“Why did you let her in?” I ask. Tara had put up a fight. But the small Korean grandmother, in a way only they could, pushed her way past. And now she stands in my bedroom on a Sunday morning.

This isn’t this woman’s first time in my apartment. She dropped by a few months ago to complain to me, in Korean that I didn’t fully understand, that my washing machine was leaking water onto her balcony. I had nodded in agreement during that previous meeting, stopped the washing machine during its cycle, and she left. Tara and I have spent the last two months doing our laundry late at night, after this woman’s probable bed time.

But now she’s back. She motions toward the balcony door and the releases a string of Korean on me. I have no idea what she’s saying, but I guess it once again has something to do with the washing machine that sits on that balcony. She maneuvers past the pizza box from the previous night’s dinner and empty wine bottles next to the bed (embarrassing) and opens the door. I watch, pulling the covers up more and more trying to hide my pant-less state, as she starts pointing to the spicket next to the washing machine.

I glance at my burger and put my pounding head into my hands. I just want her to leave. I want to continue watching X Factor and eat my lunch. My lunch that is getting colder as the minutes pass.

She starts talking again. In a language I don’t understand. Does she not see the blank stare I give her each time she opens her mouth? She begins to pantomime face washing. She wants a hand towel?

I reach out from the bed and grab a pair of leggings lying on the floor which I then put on while she is standing less than a foot away from me. From her expression it is apparent that I’m the only one who finds this strange. Once dressed, I walk to the hamper and pull out a dirty towel. She is momentarily appeased and goes out to the balcony to work her magic on this water problem.

She spends about 15 minutes out there, while Tara and I run around the apartment trying to make it look like less of a frat house, and then comes inside asking for a cord. We don’t have one. She leaves to go downstairs and get one from her apartment and makes it very clear that I am not to lock the door when she leaves. I resist the urge and when she returns I let her finish what she started.

The crazy lady’s finished work.

I pull a fry out of the bag. It is stiff and cold. I down a couple of ibuprofen and look at Tara. She’s getting increasingly angry. I’m too tired to feel and real emotion about the situation. I just want it to end.

The woman comes back inside and starts asking for something else.

“Upseoyo,” I say. I don’t have any. I hope she will take this as a sign to leave. But, not surprisingly, she doesn’t.

And then I hear it. Tara starts yelling for her to go.  She puts on her shoes and hesitantly leaves the apartment while saying something about not using the washing machine anymore. I say okay for what seems like millionth time and lock the door as she finally leaves.

“Is this woman bat shit crazy?” I ask Tara as I finally take a bite of my burger and sink back into bed thankful that she’s gone.

Hours later Tara puts a load of dirty clothes in the machine, dumps a cupfull of detergent on them, and presses start.

Nothing happens.

This crazy lady has disconnected the water supply. The washing machine no longer works.

What would you have done if this crazy lady barged into your house? Have you had any experiences abroad that left you in a state of disbelief? Let me know in the comments! 

A Washing Machine and a Crazy Korean Grandmother is a post from: Farsickness

About halfway through college I became disillusioned with my country of birth. When I left the first time I felt happy to be fleeing the country I viewed as hypocritical and obsessed with all the wrong things. Now that I’ve been gone for a while, I’ve realized that there are a lot of things about the United States that are truly fabulous.

So, on this Independence Day, I present you with a list of things that I miss about my country (outside of family and friends, which is a given), and also a list of things I’m glad to be far, far away from. 

What I Miss

1. Summer

I feel like summer is the quintessential American season and I miss the traditional, typical summers I had growing up. In Korea summer means rain. And lots of it. For me, summer is about grilling outside, days spent on the lake, drinking expensive beers at baseball games, spending the weekend “up north”, and being tan, which is heavily frowned upon here.

What summer should look like. Courtesy of Flickr user richevenhouse

2. Food

I love Korean food but I really crave the diversity of cuisines back home. Immigration has made the United States a breeding ground for good cooking from around the world. For example, I’ve realized that it’s hard to find good Mexican in other counties because, well, there aren’t many Mexicans. In addition to variety, no one has the US beat when it comes to quality and creativity in the kitchen.

3. Target

I miss one stop shopping. I miss being able to buy cheap clothes and shoes in my size. I miss wandering down the aisles buying things I don’t need. I miss cheap Amy’s frozen meals. Target is my happy place.

Home Sweet Home. Courtesy of Flickr user noise64

4. Sports

Yes, there are sports in Korea. And yes, it is possible to view American sports in Korea. But it is hard. The time difference usually means waking up in the middle of the night to catch a game live and Facebook is ripe with spoilers if you try to wait until a more normal hour to watch a replay. The most homesick I’ve ever felt was during college football season last fall (Go Blue!) and I’m always sad during Masters weekend and the NFL season. Plus, the United States has a much better time zone for catching European soccer matches.

The Big House is the happiest place on Earth.

What I Don’t Miss

1. Politics

I like to be well informed. I’ve always liked politics (I once dreamed of being the President), but the constant barrage of mindless political commentary is absolutely horrifying. I also can’t stand the political state of the country right now, and view most Americans stance on issues important to me as hypocritical and sometimes disgusting. In Korea, especially during an election year, it’s nice and easy to separate myself from the mudslinging and endless ads.

2. Car Culture

I hate driving, I’m a terrible driver, and I have little patience for other terrible drivers (because underneath even though I know I’m not a good driver, I think I am the best). The lack of decent public transportation in most American cities is frustrating on both personal and environmental fronts. In addition, for long distance travel, your only options are car or plane. The US really needs some high speed rail infrastructure similar to Europe.

At this point I’d be vehemently cursing. Courtesy of Flickr user nicpic

3. Unbridled Patriotism

Yes, the United States is a great country, but it’s not the only great country. And it certainly isn’t THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD. A couple years ago I got called a communist (not jokingly) because I was cheering for Italy in the World Cup and wouldn’t wear an American flag bikini on the 4th of July. Many times this fervent passion for the United Satates goes hand in hand with ignorance about the rest of the world. Sometimes it’s just plain American arrogance. Whatever it is, tone it down a few notches, people.

4. 9-5, 2 Weeks Off Cubicle Life

This isn’t a solely American concept, but Americans sure seem to believe that you aren’t an adult until you’re spending 40 hours a week in a cubicle. Don’t get me started on the standard two weeks of vacation which leaves little time to actually travel if you don’t live close to family. Increased working hours and time spent at the office does not necessarily lead to increased happiness OR productivity. There’s life outside an office and ten days of vacation!

My version of hell. Courtesy of Flickr user Michael Lokner

To all of my American readers, I hope you have a safe and happy Independence Day. I’ll be eating a mediocre burger in a stuffy restaurant later in honor of the Stars and Stripes.

What things do you miss about your home country while abroad? What things could you live without?

If you haven’t already, please ‘Like’ Farsickness on Facebook and stay up to date on all my travels and posts! Your support is greatly appreciated. 

What I Miss (and Don’t Miss) About the United States is a post from: Farsickness