Speachless (Boston)

     There's been a lot of focus and attention directed at the safety and potential danger "living" and thriving in Korea. I know there's been a lot of news circulating the risks of an attack by North Korea and in result of that, I've been getting more than a fair share of concerned e-mails, messages, phone calls, etc. All of the senders and callers being from outside of Korea. People here, in Seoul have paid very little to no attention to the threats expressed. Everyone continued on with their daily lives; went to work, drank with friends, went to school...I got nervous. But purely from the concerns of international loved ones. The frantic emails I received fed a very anxious and obsessed part of me, my nails have suffered. I started to draw up plans of escape, chattering away like a drugged-up chipmunk, poking at my partner's nerves, tearing up at the very idea of losing friends, loved ones, my girls...my life. I was unwillingly consuming the fear that was being given to me. I was having a hard time looking away from it; it was if I was immobile and stuck in a looping video.
    Given panicking and actually conceiving the idea of losing so much and so many here, I've neglected a lot. This blog, art, peace, calm...I don't think my loved ones realized or recognize that their concern provided a generally greater danger to my self...in many ways. I am here, I am in this life here, Koreans are around me, I  am contacting the embassies often, my friends are in the army here...surely if an attack or threat was pending, there's be some noise. Reason wasn't being made...and the high-pitched squeals of concern got me annoyingly panicky. I was, in my opinion, being force-fed US news, and international story coverage. The fear inspired by ignorance (and maybe boredom) struck great distress in those not here, not close to N.Korea, not physically aware and invested in what is actually occurring in the lives here. Granted, this can all be quickly dubbed as ignorance on my part...I'm not omniscient, but I am able to step back and now, now observe issues that are pressing with the population here.
    I'm present again, grounded, grateful, and significantly less distraught...I'm painting, drawing, and designing; substituting living with fear with general presence. 

    I wrote this all a day or two ago, feeling better gathered and collected, relaxed. That is until earlier yesterday morning I discovered that my city, Boston is now in healing and pain. The Boston Marathon is something we're so proud of, so excited for, so grateful for. It's a celebration and adventure that lives on many "life lists." I know that I myself would someday love to take part in the marathon. People from all over the world collect together in Beantown to test their bodies, achieve their goals and dreams, raise awareness, prove themselves, live their spirit, be present, test, love, and live...to live.
    I didn't discover what had happened until I "liked" my friends status about how his heart was with Boston. I liked it due to Boston pride, a genuine love for my city. Seconds later, I saw so many more "Boston love" statuses being shared..."what's going on?" I googled Boston and the pages and pictures of crying faces, blood covered streets, twisted pained faced, lost limbs flooded my eyes and saturated my brain.
     My heart stopped, my chest heavy, my eyes pressured. My city? This marathon? This event? Boston...this city that holds onto so many memories and adventures, so many memories, try outs, jobs; the place where Jaxs, Vicki and I went when we ditched the High school homecoming, where I met with Ian to check out photography, where I saw so many shows, where I drove through every time I went to Vermont, where I went to a parade to every year with my family...my city.
    Then I saw the loads of support, the love, the Bostonians rushing into the shrapnel, smoke, and blood to help those in agony, in shock. I saw people being wheeled out, rushed to hospitals, people running to donate blood, posts of homes being opened up to strangers...Support.
    I then saw angered people on facebook posting completely insensitive and inappropriate statuses where blame and hatred was spewed. Pointing their fingers at Muslims, Jordanians, Saudi's, North Koreans, etc. I grew further saddened and disappointed. That is not what Boston is about, what we are...that abhor is not what America needs to be and should be. The quick backlash and hatred directed at those that are unknown, different, foreign ..the reality is that the awful monsters that committed such violence and hatred and disruption of joy and peace could be American, could be the "American norm." The hatred and negativity is apparent, and their is anger, but now...most importantly is there must be love and support. For those affected, those that lost their lives, those that had lives lost, those that are troubled, scared, damaged, in critical condition, for Boston and for the people that took part in this marathon.
    I do believe that those responsible will be found and held accountable. I believe Boston will continue to be the city I am so in love with and proud of. I believe that people will come together and do what's right and just. I have a lot of hope and love for what happened, and a lot of sadness. The barbaric and horrific actions taken by so many, the bombers, the accusers, the bias, racist, sexist, and hateful~ you are out numbered by the good, the loving, the caring, compassionate, and the positive.  

   

Me time in Boston...ah and Chinatown

Spent the day in Boston yesterday, actually took some me time. I was originally going so I could meet up with a fellow student so we could study for our final, but she bailed. I was already on the train and, well before plans for Korea I did set a goal for myself to kick it through the Beantown streets at least one more time.

 As soon as I got off at South Station I felt safe, comfortable...free almost. There was no criticism following me, endlessly ringing in my ears, nothing...amongst a community of noises, yet I was in the bubble of serenity.

Having not been to Harvard Square in so long I took the subway there, I miss subways. The constant disarray, overwhelming confusion that is just accepted, and communally understood. I was soaking in the surroundings, passing each stop  and witnessing the awkward altercation, conversations, and gazes. Everyone is people watching...Harvard square is...a college section. It was raining, as it has been here for the past three (approaching four) days, so lost in my huge rain coat and with an over-sized umbrella, my only plan was to explore. I stumbled into Dado and got a steaming cup of dark oolong and ginseng tea...instant pleasure.

I haven't gone to a tea house in forever, there isn't much around my spot. )O: Cruising through streets I found a used book store, and Veggie Planet, I have one of their reusable bags and am so glad I know where they're located now. I didn't get anything, but it smelt so comforting. Basil and tomatoes sauce wafted through the air, an open and approachable kitchen  was easily accessible...and even though there wasn't much direction, it was just understood what the "rules" were. Everything seemed reasonabley priced too, the menu looked alluring enough, but wasn't too hungry and I had plans on hitting up my FAVORITE Boston area...China Town.

Durian hunting, that was my mission, and I my plan. along with Bijiu. I haven't had Durian or Bijou since my trip to China and I was seriously missing China. And I want to celebrate, I'm finishing up my FINAL class for my undergrad tomorrow and hell, I want some cheap rice wine!

 I can't quite explain it, or accurately describe how I feel whenever I enter China town. Something feels so right, I mesh right in, I feel confident walking those streets and through the stores. As uncomfortable as I feel in my home when Koreans come over, in China town amongst the Koreans and Chinese, I feel so much more accepted, my lungs expand freely. Right down to the smells of China town I feel at ease. Also it brings me back, these memories flow straight into my head from when I was younger and used to buy grapes juice or cabbage with my mother here, when I would converse in horribly broken Korean with store owners, and the time I was in Changchun. The smells of dumplings filling street corners, along with the crackling of roasting geese and cooking pigs (as much as it pains me, it does remind me.) Even the trash riddled corners, where the cardboard is stacked upon high sandy covered plastic and wooden chopsticks makes me feel at home...so comfortably at ease. The combination of community, people, smells, produce, all of it...it's a taste of Asia that is not at all like Asia but a kiss of it.

I think I went into every store, when I saw produce, I ventured in. Plump pumpkins, wasabi peas (the American brands..pish posh), the dried mushrooms, Ah I love it. I walked into this tiny tiny store and found the usual dried ginseng, fish, sweet potatoes, ramens of all flavors, but there were barely any Korean products, the ones I am so used to seeing, smelling, and tasting. The produce section was so tiny that I feared my Durian mission would be a fail...a man saw my confusion and I showed him a cell phone picture and he guided me straight the the horrid smelling spikey fruit!! YESS!! but...$1.99/lb, these guys are huge...should I drop $20 on this...

I decided to venture on wards, good thing I did too. I stumbled into a bigger store, full of SO much more produce. And I spoiled myself. I made quite a bounty. Got water spinach, Chinese broccoli, and sesame leaves for $1.69/lb, king oyster mushrooms for $3, enoki mushrooms for $1, dried "black fungus" (the same pillowy seaweed like ones I had in Changchun), two bags of white seaweed (I am not sure what they are called but they're so yummy), and yes...durian for $1.50/lb...I spoiled myself hardcore, and well, spending only $32.50 I left a happy vegan gal!
 And luckily next door was a Chinese liquor store, I found my cheap bijiu. The last time I had this I was with Spy and I got more than sick. Bijou is this clear rice liquor from China that seriously is like gin, tequila, and vodka mixed all together to form this gut wrenching, lung clasping, blood stopping liquid consumption reaction. And it does not do well in mixers, so shot it or nothing. I saw so many people swigging these babies back with not even a cringe...an dI couldn't take more than two without feeling like I was going to die. On one of his days off Spy and I bought a bottle (only for 10 kuai=US $1.65) and tried desperately to make it tolerable...peach and kiwi nectar, fail fail fail. I took maybe one shot and while walking to some nearby gathering, I had to turn back...
anyways long story short...I'ma have to be very gentle with this round.

The day in Boston was a great day...I finally enjoyed some me time...and when that exam is turned in and I can stretch out and breath without any assignments eagerly requesting my attention...I'll enjoy a little bijiu, and a section of durian. I'll be to giddy to smell the rotten stench that misrepresents this glorious fruit.