It's day 22 of Korea. It's been hectic and busy and the time difference makes me feel like I'm on another planet (16 hours ahead of the American left coast, 13 the right).

The only update I've made to people back home (besides the near daily calls and texts with family) is one instagram post. I'm not sharing much because I feel the pictures and captions so inadequate to the experience, which has been a galaxy of stimulation. The food is superb, going out so cheap, the countryside so beautiful, the places we visit filled with design features the result of considerations wholly foreign to me. And the people, both natives and exchange students, throw my Americanness into sharp relief. I thought most Germans were pissed at me for some reason but it's actually got nothing to do with me (I think). One Scandinavian said "I'm having the best time of my life" without so much as a change in facial expression. One more anecdote:

Koreans love drinking. Holy fucking shit. At the orientation every single student club that presented to the assembled exchange students said "And we drink all the time. On the weekends, on the weekdays, on the holidays, on the Mondays."

For crying out loud, the Buddhist Club has a weekend binge-drinking event for new students. And soju, the rice spirit that everyone drinks, is about $1.25 a bottle.

Despite all the distractions/adventures/food for thought, I'm still not free of the mental burdens I bore back home. The fact that I feel like I'm without people who know and understand me, that I don't need permission to hang out or be with. I thought maybe I'd escape that by being someplace radically different. But we carry it with us. It's an internal resolution that I haven't found yet. I'm still learning to be whole wherever and whenever I am.

Tonight I join the Art Club for, you guessed, an alcohol-fueled "Mentorship Training".