Tuesday, October 14, 2008

To Bodly Go...


The Question: If the future is now and a special mission required you to travel into deep space would you do it? Could you leave behind your family and friends and all other things familiar? Could you venture into the vast unknown for a purpose greater than yourself?


Since I was a child my brother and I often asked this question of each other. In our minds we imagined that this scenario necessitated the likes of Star Trek or Star Wars. It wasn't until last night as I was helping my daughter fall asleep that I realized I finally had the Answer...


It was a memory that flashed in my mind that evening - my first memory of Asia that I have thought of since arriving here. My husband and I were sitting for many hours in Beijing's international airport awaiting our flight to Korea. The place was huge, white, with very foreign architecture and also happened to be weirdly fully staffed but yet completely devoid of passengers. We found rows of benches near our gate and situated ourselves there. Both Nir and I were exhausted from our previous flight though little Ayalah was wide awake and full of energy having slept in our arms beforehand. A Hagen Daz kiosk offered our only kosher food option. And literally SWARMS of employees continually approached us to ask if they could photograph Ayalah with their cell phones. The whiteness of the building, the emptiness of the place, Ayalah's paparazzi and our immense fatigue were all a bit surreal for me at the time. During our travels to Korea and our first days in Seoul I was just so determined. Determined to make it to Korea. Determined to find a home. Determined to get kosher food. Determined to survive and thrive really.


Back in bed with Ayalah, cuddling her to sleep, the aftershock overwhelmed me. I thought of everything that had happened since those first few days and how vulnerable I now know that we had been. We were all alone in a totally foreign place and we had to make it in order to turn our dream for Nir to study robotics into a reality. Until this memory flash I had been really proud of us, how we navigated the job market, the real estate agents, the subway... all the research and prep and planning we had done alone in advance and how hard we worked even once we arrived. Schlepping our new stuff by foot and walking miles everyday with our baby in toe just to find the Costco or the Immigration Office, etc. But, after this memory flash I wept and thanked H-shem over and over again because at any point our plans could have been unravelled. We had simply been so fragile.


For this reason I find it is sometimes more frightening to look back than to look forward. Yet today we received confirmation that our efforts were not for not. Nir called me on my cell at work and told me that the President of Hebrew University in Israel happened to be visiting his university and had been told about the one Israeli student studying there. Nir was unexpectedly escorted into a private luncheon with the President and top notch profs. Before departing the President told Nir to come to Hebrew University when he finishes in Korea. Maybe we will. Maybe we will help Israel some day with the knowledge Nir gains here. Either way, meeting the President today was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Korea is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us.


So, yes, I would go into deep space... I would depart the familiar and venture into the unknown for a special mission.


I know that I would because I already have.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

No strings attached?


Despite dreading the High Holy days for the last few weeks, fearing that I would feel terribly homesick, just before Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year) entered I found myself unexpectantly excited. We decided to video Skype Ayalah's savta (grandma) in Israel so that she could see her granddaughter dressed up for synagogue. Hundreds of years ago, before even the telegraph was invented, Skype might have been considered to be witchcraft. But, despite all the modernity around us today that we take for granted, the Internet really is a miracle. Chatting with loved ones, hearing and seeing them in real time despite being separated by thousands and thousands of miles... And, yet, as we ended our video chat our excitement had morphed into sadness for we had been visually reminded that we were not REALLY with our family for the holiday. And, at the same time, we were not really in Korea either.

Skype. AIM. The Internet. Cell phones. This very blog. All of these mediums allow us to extend our hand beyond that which is immediately before us. If not for the Internet, Nir would never have learned about his graduate program here and I would be unemployed. We'd be living totally different lives, probably buying a house in Kansas and settling down. Technology makes the world smaller and more connected and this is truly amazing, but at what point does all this modernity -

*buying goods and services online instead of in local shops;
*chatting online with friends thousands of miles away but not conversing with our neighbors;
*and don't even get me started on emails where we spend hours every week trying to stay on top of our virtual inbox!

- At what point does all of this prevent us from living our lives in the here and now? At what point do these "wireless" technologies tie us up from simply living?

So, my New Years resolution (one of many!) is not so extreme as to go without my laptop or cell, but to make a special effort to try and experience the real Korea as much as possible whenever I can. For this reason, I have penned this blog old-school style on a napkin in a Korean coffee house, an hour from our home, from our computers and from other English speakers. As I sip my tea now Ayalah naps beside me and Nir is playing chess closeby. Some business matriarchs are in front of me, behind me sit love birds and a few Korean students studying - all of them friendly and trying to connect to me despite the language barrier. Koreans are the most friendly strangers I have ever known.

And even though at this moment I cannot reach them electronically, I am thinking of my family and friends the traditional way, and I am wishing them all a Shanah Tovah (Good Year). May you be inscribed in the Book of Life. May your year be filled with great health, much happiness, love and success and countless 'full of life' moments in the here and now.