Monday, December 3, 2012

Three's Company

It's been a few days since my last post - mainly because I've been busy as all heck with school, random stuff, and a house guest.

Maria and I are splitting hosting duties while our Australian friend, Andy visits for a post Japan one-week Korean stop-over before heading back home for the holidays.

Korean apartments are generally on the small side - office-tels (what we are in), even smaller. But, we were glad that we could provide a warm floor for someone who is more than used to sleeping on one - what with all of his years spent in Korea already.

Unfortunately, we really didn't have a great deal of time to go out and see the sights as rabbit and I were both working and in the middle of planning for other things, but it was okay as Andy really had few sights he needed to check-off his list.

What it was, was a good time to reflect on that curious aspect of international friendships that originate overseas - it doesn't matter how different your view points, pasts or future trajectories might be, it's still comforting to be with people you know.

I suppose I'm tied to a number of different eras, generations, whatevers, here in Korea. I've been here since August of 2007, and in that time, I've developed approximately 5 constantly shifting circles of friends. The size of the circles shifts based on where you are, what you're looking for, and what you're willing to go out and get. I guess it's mostly about what you need, but it's hard to know what you need until it's right there in front of your face or ripped unceremoniously away from you with a contract ending and plane ticket back home. Anyway, cramped as it was, it was good to connect again with a friend who likes arcades, has plenty of board game loving friends, and who also finds value in reconnecting. Andy is a part of my history here in Seoul, and it's reassuring to know that ended contracts and plane tickets don't need to mean "goodbye".

With three of us in an apartment where we can sleep more than two only if we don't do laundry, I was reminded of a poem from my youth. I got it from a cheap decorative plate and wrote it again with a jiffy marker on the interior wall of a playhouse that our dad build for my sister and I in our backyard. The poem read:

Our house is small, 
No mansion for a millionaire.
But there is room for love,
And there is room for friends,
That's all I care.

Happy trails, Andy. Until next time.

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