Installment #1 of Matt's Life Lessons ®:
With each Korean sunset, and subsequently as the length of my Matt the Expat status grows, I seem to be more frequently reminded of memorable (yet previously personally insignificant) nuggets of wisdom to which I've been exposed throughout this thing called life. And in turn, the meanings of these quotes, anecdotes, and memories are constantly becoming more pronounced and morphing. One such line and one of the most indelible that I've heard too many times to count over here is a common phrase shared between us Korean expats (and, I imagine, between expats in general) is that 'everyone comes with an expiration date'.
At first glance or turn of ear, this remark essentially, and quite succinctly, states the basic fact that 100% of fellow foreigners will eventually be gone from this place and your period of shared lives will come to an end. Pretty straightforward, right? But over time, the saying takes on a never-ending number of meanings, applications, and usages. And the beauty lies in the saying’s simplicity; it is an easily recallable analogy (e.g., comparing humans to perishable items). It might become a relationship warning (as in, 'you shouldn't get too attached to your newfound acquaintances, because you're bound to one day become unattached'). It can imply that each individual is predetermined with a date of expiry, as in their time stamp 'comes equipped' with the person even before their actual arrival. It could be a euphemism used for the purpose of describing the fleeting nature of expat-hood (watch for the preceding word in Webster's next year, and I want credit). It might become a personal warning (reminding the displaced person that he/she must create an exit strategy and decide on an end date for this dance, for fear that he/she will surely become 'forever lost in this foreign land', lest they forget these words of wisdom). And the list goes on...
Personal intrusion: I’ve arrived at my fifth month anniversary of my second year in Korea, and recently celebrated the end of my first semester teaching adult students. So after almost 17 months over here, I believe now is the appropriate time to start pondering the next chapter of my life (which I feel, in my case, is a natural and beneficial set of actions to take). My new place of employment is undoubtedly enjoyable and fulfilling for the time being, but I can't see myself doing this ESL thing for any longer than two years. I have accepted the fact that I could be a competent teacher/instructor, but I lack the skills (and honestly, the willpower to gain them!) to ever become great, or even fully commit to this line of work. So you have an idea of where I stand on the topic of discussion...
Meanwhile back at the ranch, the everyone to whom the saying evokes has also taken on endlessly more applications. Initially, everyone seemed to refer to a much smaller group of people. Everyone equaled only other fellow expats (and by the way, I wasn't yet included in that group either). Traveling is said to be fatal to small-mindedness (come to think of it, I could probably even write an entry about that saying, too!). Along these lines: now everyone has expanded into: foreigners (which is really all-inclusive); friends; students; staff members; co-workers; nice restaurant owners whom I meet once on a given Tuesday; annoying store clerks who don't provide adequate service but I can't properly disagree with them because we don't share a common language; etc.
Throughout this time abroad, I've made so many great friends and met even more people that I'll never forget (both positively and negatively). It seems to me that forcing yourself to live outside of your comfort zone and sharing this experience with so many other members of humanity hastens the relationship lifecycle. Perhaps through this experience, I am now able to more quickly, accurately, & easily see people’s true qualities, reflect on my past relationships and their results, and consequently become more adept at meaningful human bonding skills. But that's just a guess.
Product life cycle diagram, but you get the picture.
For an example (and likely what got this whole reflection ball rolling), remember my student John (who I introduced back in the February post)? Well, I regret to announce that he is one of these people who are no longer with us. (Hold on, don't jump to any conclusions - he hasn't died or anything extreme like that. He is just no longer my student). He's actually been gone for some time now, so not to worry, I've worked through the whole grieving process. His absence truly saddened me for a variety of reasons. So let me take a moment to describe the kind of person John was to me:
John embodied exactly what I wished and hoped for in a mature, adult student (a group which I have longingly wanted to direct my instruction). He was a perfect model for the kind of person whom I have always wanted as a recipient of my attempts at teaching. He's a dedicated and motivated young man who was astoundingly serious in his studies. He was always attentive, engaged, and participatory in classes. He was constantly challenging me and always made me feel like I was benefiting from our relationship much more than him. I saw several factors that led to his wonderful qualities. Namely, he was older and more mature than most of the other students in class. You see, South Korea maintains compulsory armed service for all its males, and John was the only student in the class who was old enough and had already fulfilled this requirement for his life. (Which served at least two purposes: developing his individual maturity and bringing the two of us together in a unique way that transcended our very different cultures.
I could go on and on with countless cases like this, but further description is unnecessary as they share all similar traits. Our lives are filled with intersecting paths. Some of these exchanges endure for years. Some are simply a brief glance or shared word. Some of them create joy, happiness, and even elation. Some cause strife, pain, and suffering. But all of these experiences are equally significant and capable of creating lasting impacts. And I believe these processes and their results are what make us human.
