With Anticipation

 “What do you think you’ll end up doing after university?”

“Probably start applying for jobs.  My parents have been emailing me links for different banks the past month.”

“Right.  Finance.  Your parents.  I forgot.  My bad.”

Rolling her eyes at her friend’s tone, Haerin tapped her pencil against her lip.  She knew that Jaekyung meant well with her annoyed response, but simply voicing it did not do her much good.  Her family was very strict in her intellectual upbringing and in her future.  From attending the best schools to the best after school programs, her education had been the only thing she ever focused on.  Working as a doctor and a lawyer, her parents refused to allow her to get a part time job, saying they had no need for whatever spare change convenience stores were paying these days—they made enough for her to live comfortably and just focus on studying.

So she did.

In all of the shows she had seen on television, children in her situation had a rebellious nature to them—the desire to defy their parents orders and live life on their own.  They searched for heart wrenching romances, for endless adventures and for redefined futures.

She did not.

Haerin would not say that she was happy with her life, but rather that she never felt the need to go out and break all the rules.  Not thrilled to worry about suffering consequences, she did as she was told.  In reality, her parents were not so bad; only when it came to her studies were they harsh.  She was free to date, hang out with friends and explore the city as long as she could fit it in her schedule.  Maybe that was what separated her from all of those fictional characters.  She had a good group of friends, a few whirlwind romances and—at this point in her adult life—the knowledge that even though hangovers felt like being struck down with lightening, they were sometimes worth the night before.

In some ways, she was excited to enter the world of finance.  With her parents connections, she was bound to get a job somewhere; her willingness to use her resources was not something she was proud of, but merely a means to the desired end.  Once she established herself and had enough saved up, she planned to travel the world.

There was not a moment that passed that she did not think of travelling. 

Despite the amount of money her parents made, they never went on vacations.  While other kids were going to Japan or Europe, she was stuck wondering what Jeju Island was like.  When she was younger, she never questioned it out of respect for her parents’ decisions.  It was only when she was fourteen and Jaekyung’s family had invited her to join them on a trip to China that she brought up the possibility of travelling.  Her parents were kind about rejecting her desire to go, gently reminding her that going meant missing a day of school, but young teenage Haerin wouldn’t have it.  That was the only fight she ever engaged her parents in and she had been thoroughly defeated.  Screaming at them her sadness over being denied this one chance to enjoy herself, she cried in the silence of their stares.  Only when she had regained herself did her mother speak.

“You know why we do not want you to go to China, Haerin, but tell me clearly why you want to.”

“I want to see the culture!  To know what life beyond Seoul is like,” she responded, trying her best to keep her voice steady. 

Her parents’ gazes, which were normally passive (unless she made them proud, then they were pleased), seemed to hold an emotion that she had never seen before.  Her father, who usually took the lead in conversations, was sitting back, gazing at her mother.  Carefully watching Haerin, her mother’s eyes—calculating and objective from years of working as a doctor—were, for the first time that Haerin had ever seen, alive.  She had watched her parents occasionally argue, but those altercations were always arguments of logic, those which did not require any personal attachment.

But this was different.

As she awaited her mother’s answer, she questioned to herself why a fight over a vacation would spark such a reaction.  In reality, nothing personal was required for this—all her mother had to do was say “because I said so” and Haerin would probably have given up.  The fact that her mother was questioning her meant she was attached.

“Life beyond Seoul?  You can do that in Busan.  And the Chinese culture?  There’s the internet for that.”

“There’s the Great Wall—I want to see that up close.  There’s so much history.  Think of how much I would learn!” She was running out of arguments.  When she had first brought up the offer to her parents, she had mentally prepared herself for a debate—a battle of intellect.

Now, under the burning eyes of her mother, she felt more like a petulant child begging for a useless toy.

“The Im family is going to Shanghai.  You won’t be near the Great Wall.  If you want to learn history, do it through books, that way, you cannot be distracted.  I do not doubt your intelligence, sweetheart, but you must come up with an answer that I won’t be able to respond to."  Her mother sighed before reaching out to hug Haerin.  “When you can tell me what you’re searching for—what you’re traveling for that cannot be obtained through more conventional and convenient means—then do it.  Go.  But for now, just think.”

Sitting in her mother’s embrace, Haerin waited for the tears to come; even though she had just been denied her greatest desire by her parents, she didn’t feel angry.  And that meant one thing to her.

There was logic in her mother’s argument.

Since then, she had researched every possible vacation spot in the world.  She knew all of the local restaurants, all of the history and all of the culture; in a sense, she had defeated any purpose she had to travel.

Especially as she aged, vacations to her were never about riding rollercoasters or getting souvenirs.  Since that argument, she asked herself what she planned to get out of going abroad. She had all of the things she needed right here—success, family, friends.  Was it selfish to have everything yet yearn for more?

That’s why even though she was technically an adult and free to do what she wished, she waited to travel.  She wanted to present her mother with answers that it seemed the doctor already had.

“Earth to Haerin?”

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘after you’re done saving up, where do you think you’ll go first?’ You have pictures everywhere in this apartment of places you want to go.  So where first?” Jaekyung asked, grandly motioning to all of the magazine cut outs that decorated her kitchen. 

 Resting her chin on her palm, she sighed.  She had spent years learning about different countries and their benefits, yet she had no clue where she wanted to go.  Two points to her mother, none for Haerin.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s a difficult choice," she feebly offered.  For all of her straight A’s and work ethic, she was doing a horrible job at responding to her best friend with a conclusive argument.

“Well, as much as I would love to help you sort out your painfully detailed and over studied thoughts, I have to go.”

“Date?”

“Yeah.”

Waving goodbye as Jaekyung shut the door, Haerin turned her attention to the mail.  She had picked it up before walking into the apartment, but her friend’s arrival had distracted her from checking it.  Looking through it, she paused on a white envelope addressed only to her physical address without her name.  Lacking a return address, she suddenly felt anxious.

Was it a bomb?

A death threat?

An ex boyfriend?

Sighing, she erased her thoughts.  There was no reason to be nervous—it was just a letter.  Plus, she was curious.

Cutting a slit down a side of the envelope, she eased the letter out of it.  The paper was nothing special, simply white printer paper, folded upon itself.  As she opened them, she was met with neat and fluent penmanship.  Not recognizing the handwriting, she read.

Dear Reader,

London was cool today.  It’s been a few days since I arrived and besides today, the weather has otherwise been welcoming. There is so much life here and what’s even more interesting is that life is experienced so much differently.  There’s so much to see and so much to do for a foreigner such as myself, yet when I watch the natives drink tea midday and talk with each other, I sometimes feel guilty for having placing to go and see.

 The things I’ve seen have been breathtaking.  From Big Ben to museums, culture is always right around the corner.  I ran into a few other people from Korea while I was there.  It’s funny how people tend to gravitate towards the known, for they kept speaking to me.  In some ways, it was a relief to speak with them—I always feel as though I can be myself when I speak Korean.  My sense of humor doesn’t really showcase itself in broken, mispronounced English.  But at the same time, I went abroad to escape familiarity.

It’s strange, in all of the videos I’ve seen, London is always portrayed one of two ways.  It’s either warm and vibrant, wrapped safely in the sun’s rays or it’s cold and rainy, a place of solitude and isolation.  The actual weather was like the former, but personally, I felt lost.

You’re probably reading this and wondering why you’re reading it.  I don’t really know either.  I’ve been traveling for a few weeks now (China, Japan, Germany) and I suddenly felt the urge to talk to someone.  When the opportunity presents itself, such as with the Korean people in London, I get upset, yet I couldn’t stop myself from randomly finding an address off of Google and sending a letter.  Maybe I find comfort in knowing that we don’t know each other.

That there are no expectations.

As strangers, I’ve accepted that you can say whatever you want without worrying about hurting my feelings.  To you, I’m just some strange guy who stalked Google maps and sent a letter detailing my stay in a foreign place.  But who knows, maybe we’ll both get something out of this.

My fate is in your hands.  I’m not ready to return home, where should I go next?  Send me a letter with a place and I’ll go.  My address is written on the back of this letter.  I know that you have no reason to do what I ask, but at the same time, you have nothing to lose.  That was cliché.  I’ll just cross my fingers that you’ll reply.

With anticipation,

Chen

Rereading the letter a few times, Haerin felt lost.  Did people like this even exist?  Not once in her life did she ever imagine receiving a letter like that.  It was something out of a movie or a sappy romance novel.  As far as she was concerned, people didn’t live life like that in reality.  The knowledge that someone had randomly chosen to strike up a correspondence with her was almost frightening, for if this was anything like one of those movies, it would be life changing; she wasn’t sure if she was ready for something like that.

But she could not ignore the fact that this guy—Chen—was out there living her dream.  He was travelling the world, going wherever he pleased whenever.  For as long as she could remember, it was all she wanted to do, yet he told her he felt lost.  Running a hand through her hair, Haerin couldn’t help the surge of anger that washed over her.  Opportunities were wasted on some people—here she was, so affected by her mother’s words that she was wasting time until she had money while he was out there country hopping.  Maybe she should ask him what he was searching for?  But then again, she was not too eager to strike up a deep, philosophical conversation with a stranger who knew where she lived.

And then his conclusion—why was she supposed to tell him where to go next?  He obviously had no issues figuring out where to go, given that London was his fourth stop of his escapade. 

But to live her dream vicariously through someone at least until she could go herself—it