By Christine Rhee
Elm Staff Writer
I always fear being asked, “Where are you from?” What does it mean, anyway? If it’s where I was born, then easy: New Jersey. Technically, I’ve lived there for the majority of my life: twelve out of twenty years. Sixty percent. That’s the place one would expect that I would identify with, right? It’s not. I hardly identify with New Jersey other than some diluted, fond memories of growing up. If it’s where I currently live, then it’s Korea—South, I must clarify. I’m updated in Korea, so to speak. If I answer straight away with Korea, then assumptions are quickly made. “You’re so good at English!” and, “You don’t have an accent. I never would have guessed you came from Korea,” quickly follow. It’s a bit exhaustive to explain, “Born and raised in New Jersey for twelve years, moved to California for three, then Korea for five,” and to give myself such a detailed introduction to people who don’t seem to deeply care dulls the conversation. I’m not narcissistic, but with a lot of moving around, it’s hard to answer a question like “Where are you from?” in a short phrase.
Other than repeatedly struggling with how to answer a seemingly harmless question, there have been a couple of stressful moments, like setting up a bank account and going all the way to Delaware (a trek that would never be imagined in tiny Korea) just for a phone number and Walmart. Or, not knowing the area and realizing that my version of being American is outdated. Or, realising that any decent restaurant with a diversity in menu is quite a drive out. For one without a license to drive or a car, it can be hard to repeatedly eat the same type of food over and over again. Always. Fried. Food. Baked or grilled chicken. French Fries. Pizza. Is there really no variety? Even when our school tries, the flavour is never tantamount to true Asian food, including Korean food. Korea just has a special taste to it that I miss. What can I say? I’m Korean.
Beyond missing Korea (and California and New Jersey), I feel a strange mix of being both at home and being a complete foreigner. It’s not a new feeling, and I’ve learned to deal with it. I take bits of home with me and create my own home. Here, I’ve made great friends, almost like a little family. We vibe well. There are interesting conversations, good humour, kind hearts. A community. It’s important to remember finding a good community is much harder than one would think, and it really goes with you throughout the years. I have grown attached. I love the atmosphere. The weather, upon coming here, was absolutely perfect. Even Goldilocks would have liked it. I woke in the mornings enjoying the walk to class and soaking in the beauty that is the nature on campus. After studying late into the night, I would walk back to the dorm and look up—in pure admiration and awe—and relax. The very start to the very end is enjoyable. Upon coming home, I am grateful for my well-matched, welcoming roommate and suitemates. All in all, I’m enjoying my time here. Sure, I miss the Korean fried chicken and ddeukbokki, but there’s so many opportunities here at WC— a chance to explore my interests and, heck, join Model United Nations (MUN) and go to Columbia University’s crisis conference (CMUNNY).
So, forget where I’m from. Where do I live? I live in Corsica, Washinton College.