30 DAYS- THINGS

So it begins and so it will end... all in the same fashion.

Random nonsense. Random brilliance. Random randomness.

Cheers to that.

I have thirty days left so I'm going to be sentimental because for one, this is among the things at which I am excellent, and for two, this is my blog and I'm allowed.

These are all my things - my comforts, my slowly crafted choices from America. As I dug up my first snapshot on Korean soil, I pondered what I've discovered about things these past 14 months.

Things are dispensable. Some of the world was born with this information; perhaps it was innate to their being.

I hoard. I attach sentiment. I like my shirts and my trinkets.

Something snapped. Maybe it started at the airport. I had to ask my dad for $270 to fund the 15 extra pounds of things I stuffed into my suitcase.

This year I lost and forgot about valuable scavenged scarves and adorable knit shorts. I threw broken sandals out of cab windows. I lost earrings and my favorite v-neck and I'm still alive.

So here's to things - special things, silly things, yummy things and useful things.
Here's to losing things and gifting things away.
Here's to trusting that things will replenish with proper time and intention.

ROCKS

WOLCHULSAN, ROK // SEPTEMBER 2012

The woman I want to be needs molding. She needs callouses most everywhere. She needs a hard, bold soul and soft, tender eyes. And that woman needs experience. Without experience, she is nothing.

ONWARD

I'm nearing that point where the inevitable hand of the future reaches down and holds me up by my collar as I'm kicking and screaming.

I want to clutch everything.

The feelings don't fit into boxes. They are foreign, unpaved roads with logs and pot holes suggesting detours that can only substantiate.

I'm on my way out.

Now I'm sleeping with the windows open. It's fall, and in all the ways, this is my favorite time of year. The leaves change. I brace myself for winter.

I told my mother six months ago, nine months ago, who even knows how many months ago, that I would skip the winter this year. I would buy a ticket to Thailand, Ecuador, Costa Rica... anywhere promoting a temperature above 70 degrees Fahrenheit. And then I cracked a joke.

"You realize this means I'm going to end up in Suburbia."

She laughed. She knows my sarcastic nature.

So, I have a one way ticket to America followed by a one way ticket to Nepal. That's life. That's 50 degrees less than what I intended.

But for now it's autumn. For now I have Korea and mountains and a whole bunch of friends on the horizon. They're waiting. I'm expected. I'm lucky.

But now is... now. Hiking. Progress. Fighting. Surrendering. Adapting. Awaiting change. Balance.

I want to be here, and I can't deny how excited I am to be there. I'm in the perfect crux, a turbulent valley I can't deny inhabiting. I want to stockpile these transitions.

I know my love ones are interested.

November it's a bit of Indy and a bit of Utah.

December is a bit of Asheville, a bit of following a special human, and a lot of family.

January is unplanned with a lot of positive intention. January is Andrea VanNoy. Significantly, January is Mirabel Jane. My best friend is going to have a baby and I'm going to be an auntie. That's satisfying.

And then I have that ticket to Nepal. Nepal is Everest Base Camp. Nepal is challenge, beauty and accomplishment. Nepal will rip my heart - if not with temperature and pain, with awe.

And in April, I'll begin my thru hike across the Appalachian Trail. Terrifying. Magnificent. Thrilling.

Ladies and gentleman,

I'm less than 40 days from FUNEMPLOYMENT.

WOLCHULSAN NATIONAL PARK, SEPTEMBER 2012

(I'm running a 30 day photo/blog project that starts October 4. Follow that.)

CHRISTOPHER

I have a friend visiting from America and Korean men love him. I've had enough experience to know that the male bond is Korea is important. Korean men are affectionate toward one another and well, they think Chris is a golden penny.

They caress his tattoos on the bus. They buy him traditional Korean drinks at the mart. They cook him Korean beef at one in the morning. They gift him history books. They insist he take off his shirt on top of mountains.

Even the lady who works at my corner mart, who I swear thinks I am the devil, perks up like a child on Christmas when he walks through the door.

It's going to be rough returning to a country where you're not treated like a celebrity everywhere you go.

WOLCHULSAN, TO THE PEAK

Wolchulsan is finished.

ASSAH !!!

This is one of my favorite Korean phrases.

It translates to oh yeah. It can come out quickly, or for desired effect, you can lengthen the ahhhhh.

Try this: ASSAH! and pump your fist OR you can say assssahhhhhhhh. and smile real big. (pumping your fist is also allowed.)

 

WOLCHULSAN, TO THE BRIDGE

In August I took a trip to Yeongam to hike this mountain. It was a humid 90 degrees, but daylight and bus schedules established my decision not to finish.

I've been trying to find time to repeat this venture ever since. The extent of visible stone that makes up the summit is both peaceful yet piercing, providing a shocking view that I have not quit feeling an invitation from. It was also a special hike with special people during a special time.

Thinking about summiting Wolchulsan brought me to an interesting predicament. I don't know why, but I've always felt mountains were like books in that once you started them, they must be completed. And you know what, that's stupid. I should immediately ditch this mentality.

Actually, that is the only course of action for a person who will be entering the Everest region in five months.

Either way, I want to finish this mountain because I can't stop thinking about it. I'm hoping all those Koreans I saw on the beach last month forgot to change their calendars or I can multiply the five people I saw hiking Wolchulsan in August by about 100.

24

I arrived in Korea last year five days before my 23rd birthday. I managed to make some friends and when the day arrived, I found myself at dinner reserved and even a little forgetful. I didn't want to burden the rest of my party with a feeling of requirement to celebrate, so I treated myself to an overpriced drink and thought, hell, it's my birthday and I'm happy.

Last year I had to sneak my birthday into conversation. This year I tried to squander all information about it's existence. My birthday hit after an eight week stretch of summer-fun weekends.

I wanted a small gathering. I wanted to sit in the park. I wanted pesto. I wanted a waterfall.

I wanted yoga and hot tea. I wanted SLEEP.

I tiptoed on the slippery rocks until I could position most of my body under the intensity of this fall in Gurye. I lost my breath, my body shocked and recovering from the water's chilly temperature. I've learned to love cold water - it's a sure reminder that you're alive.

So now I'm 24. Cool.

(But ask any Korean, and I'm still 25.)