I had the pleasure of hosting my brother last week. Whenever I
attempt to get friends or family from the west to come visit me in far away
South Korea I'm met with understandable reluctance, and I was admittedly
skeptical when my brother announced he was intent on coming to see me. It
wasn't until he had finally applied for and received his passport that I began
to take him seriously, but by the time he got his plane tickets and departure
date confirmed I'd already laid the groundwork for his arrival. It's not
often I get to play host to people from my old life, and I treasure the few
opportunities I'm given to introduce the people I care about to the country
I've come to love.
I had a few friends out to see me prior to my brother's visit, one
from back home and a few from Japan. Although I rolled out the red carpet for
each of them, I never felt like I had truly shown them the best of what South
Korea has to offer: my carefully laid plans would fall through, or we would run
into hiccups while out and about, or in the case of my college roommate
visiting me in January, it was just too insanely cold outside to be bothered
with leaving my home! My friends assure me they had a good time while in Korea
and I try to assure myself that I did my best, but I can't help from feeling a
little guilty for not giving them the mind-blowing experiences I want them
to have.
I didn't want to harbor the same regrets over my brother's visit,
so I carefully planned what we should do together during his stay. Before he arrived, my brother sent me a list of places in
Korea he had read about online that he wanted to visit. Most of his suggestions
were out-of-the-way postcard landmarks that make for good photographs, but in
my mind they didn't do much to convey what it really feels like to live in
Korea. I wanted my brother to see Korea through my eyes, to live the kind of
life that I've been living for the past four years. I knew that if I could
successfully convey all of the things I love about being in Korea to him in a few
action packed days, he would definitely fall in love with Korea as well.
That isn't to say my brother's seven day tour lacked sight-seeing.
Absolutely Korea contains awe-inspiring historical architecture worth visiting
and beautiful nature just begging to be explored, and I was sure to take my
brother to as many must-visit locales as his short vacation
afforded. However, what I was most excited to share with him are the little
things that make being in Korea so much fun, the sort of experiences that get
taken for granted by people who call Korea home but are an intrinsic part of
living here.
I'm talking about knocking back soju shots with friends in a
crowded Korean barbecue joint after a hard day's work, or strolling the packed
streets of Hongdae on a hot summer night and taking in all of the street
performances. I wanted my brother to enjoy the cleanliness and spaciousness of
a Korean movie theater, the convenience and ease of riding the metro, the joys
of having unlimited Gunpla at your fingertips. I wanted him to stuff his belly
with as much local cuisine as possible, from pork barbecue and spicy rice cakes
to giant bowls of noodle soup and fried cow intestine. We even toned it down
and enjoyed the quiet simple pleasures of my countryside life, like hiking up
the hill behind my house to the local temple or just standing on my roof and
gazing out across the valley I call home.
When it was time for him to leave, I was happy to hear from my
brother's own mouth that I’d achieved what I had set out to accomplish. He'd fallen
under Korea's spell, and he would be returning to the west with longing in his
heart (and soju in his suitcase). I don't know when or even if he'll be coming
back to visit me again, but I'm satisfied in that I was able to make at least
one person see the Korea I see.
And even though I never discussed the possibility with him, I like
to think somewhere in his subconscious he's started wondering, "What if I
got a job overseas, too?"
