The Reformer and I

Some time around the evening of October 1st, 2021, I was scrolling the dating app Bumble. I usually scrolled the app in the evenings, laid out on my cream couch after a day of teaching. Having been recently burned by an American man living on the Army base outside of Seoul, and having just finished Squid Game had me wondering if there was even anyone worth searching for on this app. or in this city. or in the entirety of this shadowy, shadowy world.

I swiped left, and left, and left, and left, and left andleft andleftandleftandleft … and then

I paused —

I swallowed the English teacher for a moment, and chewed on the words, “I enjoy it and find meaning from fighting for a better world.”

“And you’re a feminist too, huh, Moderated,” I thought to myself. “Well, we’ll see about that,” I said aloud to the empty room, skepticism cutting into my hope.

I thumbed away at my iphone keyboard, typing, “After watching Squid Game, I could use someone who wants to make the world a better place.” This began my first chat with Moderated.

In the coming weeks, I would learn that Moderated’s actual name is Dae-Han Song. In those first conversations via Bumble and then KakaoTalk, Korea’s WhatsApp, I learned that Dae-Han was kind. When I was struggling to negotiate what it would take to avoid quarantine after Christmas 2021, he picked up the phone and called me to see if he could help me navigate a visit to the Gu, or government office. I also learned that Dae-Han is well read. He quoted Shakespeare, and perhaps I thought he was trying to show off by doing so, but I would soon learn that Dae-Han is too earnest, too humble and authentic to show off, even when he could or maybe even sometimes when he should.

Before Dae-Han and I met in person for our first date, he invited me to join an online [progressive] forum that he was running. The focus of this forum was The United States’ role in Afghanistan. I understood little of what the forum really was, I knew little about the topic, but I was intrigued. I accepted his invitation.

On October 7th, I signed into Zoom to listen to Dae-Han and his International Strategy Center colleagues host researcher, historian, and author Vijay Prashad.

In truth, I was a bit distracted by Dae-Han’s handsome aesthetic, but I did also gain an understanding that there is a perspective about the US’s involvement in Afghanistan that the West has not been telling.

As I watched Dae-Han interview Prashad, I did not know — still do not know — enough about global politics to decide to what degree I agreed or disagreed with Prashad, but perhaps what was more significant to me was that the experience of being in that forum felt interesting, engaging … even expansive.

I do not think that Dae-Han had any great ulterior motives in inviting me to the forum (alright, he has since told me he did want to show off. a little.), but what I gathered from this invitation ultimately was that he was willing to be vulnerable, to show an authentic side of himself from early on, and that he was indeed who his Bumble profile said that he was: a man seeking to make the world a better place, even when Squid Game and certain Army dudes would lead you to believe there is little light left in this world.

Over the course of over a year now, I have come to know the heart of Dae-Han. He is who the Enneagram names as The Reformer, a “conscientious and ethical” man “always striving to improve things.” Perhaps it is no surprise that my father is also a Reformer; while his and Dae-Han’s politics are different, I can see them both striving for the greater good in this world.

Part of what has drawn Dae-Han and I together is the way in which we both do want to make spaces more equitable. While I work on a more micro scale, mainly my classroom (and recently beyond as I have become involved in the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion movement), Dae-Han works on a macro scale, co-running an NGO that is “dedicated to learning about and connecting with international social movements that confront injustice and corruption.”

As a dedicated activist striving for more justice, Dae-Han — the man I now call my partner, my keeper, and the love of my life — attends and engages with local protests and rallies. Recently, he asked if I wanted to attend one of these gatherings.

In truth, I did not take to this idea immediately. “A Saturday,” I thought to myself. “There is so much I could do with that afternoon: read, write, rest, run, nestle into a quaint cafe.” But I reflected on the weekend that Dae-Han gave to me in October, attending a Diversity, Equity, Inclusion exchange at a nearby(ish) international school. And then I thought about my desire to understand my partner’s work in this world better, and my desire to understand Korea better. And so I said, “yes, I’ll meet you at City Hall.”

As I was about to leave the apartment to take public transportation — ah, the ease and dependability of the bus and metro system in Seoul — it began to rain.

“Hey, just making sure the rally is still on,” I texted to Mr. Moderated.

“Rain won’t stop Koreans from gathering today,” he responded.

My last chance of a couch potato afternoon splattered like rain onto the pavement as I boarded the bus to City Hall, with some residual disappointment for missing the stillness of a slow Saturday but also interested in an afternoon to observe and learn.

When I arrived to City Hall, I found a crowd much larger than I anticipated. Some 90,000 farmers, workers, students, delivery people, and activists had gathered to struggle for better protection of the rights of Korea’s laborers.

While I could not understand the words each person was speaking, I could hear the strength and power in their voices. I also found it quite beautiful that there was sign language interpretation for the entirety of the rally, which you may note in the above — the woman in the circle is currently signing his speech.

Weighted down by rain, this banner is trying to float into the air.

As various speakers took the stage, Dae-Han translated for me. I am not particularly good at retaining information, dates and facts the way that he is, but I did learn that people gathered at this rally were struggling for three main things:

1. the ability to form unions

2. a law that would hold businesses more accountable for industrial accidents (addressing negligence)

3. the reversal of crippling fines placed upon those who strike (based on the pretext of lost business)

I do not understand Korea, her politics, and the struggles of the people well enough to pretend to have tangible viewpoints on the broader and smaller issues named here.

I did, though, feel the energy of thousands of people united to fight for their own and others’ safety and rights. It was an energy that thrummed and drummed into the air and through our bodies.

Dae-Han and I operate in quite different spheres, at this point we do not entirely share the same ideology, but I appreciate endlessly having a partner who shares in my journey and invites me to share in his.

Busan and the Abundance Mindset

I am 58 hours into a trip to Busan, the second largest city in South Korea. For 38 of these hours, I have been a solo explorer. For the other 20, Dae Han, my love, spent 9 hours traveling in order to have almost 1 full day together. While I cannot quantify the gratitude I have for him and the way Dae Han cares for me, 100% of my heart was happy to share in this weekend with him.

I have 4 hours remaining in this trip, 4 hours until I board the train bound for Seoul that will take 2.75 hours to return me to my home in South Korea’s largest, most densely populated city.

In the past 2.2 days, I have spent roughly:

5 minutes shopping for a sun visor because I arrived to the beach without my sunglasses, and to be honest, I would have bought this visor regardless because its giving me those cute beachy vibes.

7 hours reading 2 books: Pachinko with Dae Han and The Beginning of Spring on my own. We found a lazy spot in a park to read Book III of Min Jin Lee’s epic novel turned Apple TV series.

45 minutes appreciating Haedong Yonggungsa Buddhist Temple. The temple was especially popular on this day as Buddha’s birthday is near and it was Children’s Day, an important holiday here in Korea.

5 hours eating yummy meals, some of which started with 반상, side dishes that offer sweet, savory, and umami flavors — for a food and culture lesson on 반상, give a listen to my student Jihoo’s podcast episode entitled, “Where Side Dishes Take Center Stage”

Some amount of slow moments savoring the feeling of home that I always have with my handsome man, while sipping Earl Grey and letting dark Ecuadorian chocolate truffles melt in my mouth.

1.75 hours running along the water, finding spots for moments of meditation or a place to complete a short HIIT circuit of squats, pushups, and planks

3 hours walking and watching fisherman, surfers, and swimmers.

20 minutes becoming two of those swimmers, finding the sea’s very cold waters at first almost intolerable, and then … really refreshing (Dae Han spent at least twice the amount of time submerged in the sea than me).

Some hours just gazing out at the aqua water washing over the sea stones.

Since moving abroad almost 9 years ago now, I have become increasingly aware of how time passes. Perhaps it is because settling into life abroad brought with it a sadness of missing time with family and friends Stateside. It has also meant a keen awareness of how, over time, I have been expanding through challenging, sometimes uncomfortable, often delightful experiences. Perhaps, too, the sands of time have become the focus of my attention so often because as we age, we fear we are “running out of time".

Being on the beach this weekend, I have been reminded to try and work away from the notion that there is a scarcity of time. While deadlines, timelines, and checklists have their place, what I am choosing to breath into is abundance right now. The world would often have use believe that we need to produce more, buy more, be more … if you listen to the world, there is a mindset of never-enough-ness.

I have 35 minutes before I need to start walking to the bus to take me to the train station. That is a finite amount of time left to spend sea-gazing, but I can also recognize that there has been enough exploration and restoration to return me to Seoul a better-rested woman.

As I finish this post, I am back in the BaciAbode. It will take awareness to maintain my abundance mindset as I begin preparing for the week ahead, but I am hopeful that remembering the many slow breaths I took in Busan, I can also give myself permission to do the same in Seoul.

Before I sign off today, I want to acknowledge that there is a truth to scarcity, generally truths that I do not have to face if I avert my eyes, but truths nonetheless that I feel because of being part of a collective human psyche. Some in our communities and countries do not have enough support, resources, or seats at the table. Scarcity is indeed part of their reality, and a reality I believe we all have the capacity to shift. Dae Han is a devoted leader of the NGO called the International Strategy Center. The ISC hosts online forums (usually once a month) in the spirit of solidarity with people around the world, to understand current events and issues more deeply.

On May 21st, they will be hosting a forum on Korea’s Disabled People’s Movement. While I know that many readers here are not Korea based, I think the forum could be worthwhile for all of us in our respective places in the world. I encourage you to join the forum, to listen and learn and consider those near your homes that are facing scarcity, not as a mindset, but as a reality. First my parents, and now my partner, help me to understand that we have the power to bring more abundance to others.

Peace and love,

BaciAbroad

My Seoulful Life: Sympathetic Joy

I took myself to dinner last night. I find that taking myself on dates can be an empowering, soul-filling, delicious way to treat myself after a long day or week. I begin the evening by doing my hair with care, applying make-up slowly, and finding a new, cute, bougie-ish place to dine. And then I sidle into my Sexy-Drifter self as I step into a taxi who I pretend is my personal chauffeur -- perhaps especially imaginative as most drivers pass gas as they shuttle me around Seoul.

I had hoped not to dine alone last night, though. After a full day of virtual professional development -- one incredible session after another from Seoul of a Leader -- I had hoped to find a new friend to adventure with, but each of my messages had been returned with a kind, "I'm so sorry, I've already got plans tonight."

Slumped into my sofa, I spent a few moments feeling quite sorry for myself. Will I ever feel as connected to people here as I did in Shenzhen? I mourned to myself. Eight weeks into my new life, I can see that I am about as patient as my father when we were growing up, waiting for his wife and three daughters to get into the car for church on a Sunday.

After moping about for a bit, I decided I should reframe how I was looking at the evening. I messaged a restaurant owner who I had recently become acquainted with when I offered my firstborn in exchange for good goat cheese. "Any space at a table for 1 person around 7 tonight?" I typed into our Kakao chat. When Ian replied that he did indeed have the space for me at Vineworks, I popped myself in the shower and gave myself a pep talk. Off you go now, I said to myself after a quick back-and-forth with my soul-sister Ceci about how to address the sheerness of the top I had donned. (Silk scarves from Cambodia work beautifully to cover up the boobies when you don't want to wear a bra.)

It was my lucky night because my taxi driver chose to squeeze his butt cheeks together and wait for the big release once I had exited his vehicle. I walked onto the rooftop of the restaurant right as sunset was starting, and the show did not disappoint on this particular Saturday. Alright, girl, you're just fine I reminded myself. And then Ian brought over the wine.

I settled into a chair at my small wooden table and opened one of my latest reads, Sharon Salzberg's A Heart as Wide as the World. Just a couple of pages in, I became distracted by a group of women at the other end of the rooftop. They appeared lost in their revelry, laughing and trying to get the perfect photo as the sun was painting the horizon in vibrant pinks and oranges. I snapped a shot of them as balloons bounced softly on each side of their table. And I smiled. How sweet it was to be privy to this moment of theirs. Rather than feeling left out of fun for the night, I realized I shared in their joy from a distance, and that distance did not lessen the depth of contentedness that I felt. My pouty-ness had turned to peace.

As I returned to my book, I chuckled. Right on the page in front of me, Salzberg was writing about the third Brahma Vihara, or third Buddhist virtue, that of sympathetic joy. I read and reread the passage:

"Sympathetic joy is the practice of actively taking delight in the happiness of others, rather than feeling threatened or diminished, as if the happiness of another takes something away from us ... with strong sympathetic joy, we are able to feel happy when others feel happy; we rejoice and take delight in their happiness."

As the sun fully set and I was surrounded by the city lights of Seoul, I sipped more wine; Ian poured a Sauvignon Blanc and then a fruity red. It was at this point in the evening that two of the women from party walked happily in my direction, carrying a tray of cupcakes. Upon their recommendation, I chose a strawberry chocolate cupcake, so touched by their kindness. I told one of the women that I had snapped a photo of them earlier and offered to send it to her. "Oh, yes, please," she said with excitement.

As I finished the rest of my wine, which paired so deliciously with the cupcake, I decided to read one more chapter from my book. I could not help but feel it was sweet serendipity that had led me to pick up this book on this night. From a section entitled, "Returning Home" I read:

"When we turn on the light of wise attention, we can see clearly. Seeing clearly, we realize that we have no distance to travel in any direction to find our real home, where we belong, where we can be at ease -- it is right where we are."