The next year of my life

A happy afternoon spent wine tasting in Mendoza, Argentina

Sitting here in my hostel in Mendoza, I try to envision the next year of my life. It's harder to imagine than it used to be.

Before arriving in South America, I was certain I would return to Korea after finishing this trip. I had a boyfriend there, and full intentions to return to him and the life I have there. Plans involving living in Seoul, working at another Education University, continuing to improve my Korean skills, and deepening my friendships and the life I love in Korea.

That was before South America.

That was before these magical countries captured a place in my heart that I never knew was there. A place that loves the warmth of red wine, the wild beats of salsa, the romance of speaking Spanish, and the vast mountain and ocean landscapes. As I spend my days here amazed by the sheer diversity of natural beauty before me, part of me wonders why I wouldn´t try living here.

The other part of me, the Asia-loving, chopstick weilding, funny sticker booth photo-taking, rice field admiring, crowded subway riding, Korean speaking, public sauna attending part of me... it longs for Asia, and in particular, Korea. I miss it so deeply, and only the Korean phrase "그리워요" seems to express my longing appropriately.

Sometimes, when you travel the world, you end up so positively open that you can fall in love with almost any place. It´s just a case of finding the place which will make you the happiest. Here, as I continue to travel, I need to start making that choice.

inbetweens and constant things

quick moments with the hummingbirds of cocoura, colombia

the reality of travelling for an extensive period is that many of the fundamental elements of your life become fleeting.

the friends you meet are exciting and strange, but as they are near the end of their trip and you at the beginning of yours, the time your paths cross is limited.

the great hostel bed that you find, (with fluffy pillows and a heavy duvet the way you like it), is only yours for a few nights.

the souvenirs, alluring and colourful, become tokens of places and moments which we can't keep living.

the delight you find on a new island of beautiful creatures and crystal clear seas brings joy to your heart, and makes you so happy to be there, but not without a tinge of sadness that it can't last forever.

the best plate of guacamole of your life makes your tastebuds leap for lemon heaven, and though you eat the same dish for the next 4 days straight, the road is calling, and you have to leave.

in ecuador, i sit and wonder, am i not like the hummingbird? flying still for moments over one flower or branch, only to catch a glimpse of the next flower to taste.

through all the motions, the packings/unpackings/repackings, the "ciaos" and the "holas", the gazings out bus windows... through all the changes, it seems the constant elements of your life appear stronger, and more constant, than ever.

for me, the constant element i feel strongly now is my family. when i call home, i love hearing about the repairs to the roof and the cat taking his medicine. i love the constancy and routine of the life my parents live, and wonder a bit myself when i might have such constancy in my life.