My 5-month mark of my time in Korea just passed this last week. I have a difficult time grasping that I have actually been here that long...it feels like it just began, like it was just cold outside (and my auzzie friend ran outside screaming because there were three snowflakes in the air) like I was just in the States and ran a quick errand to Target (I miss you Target!) But it's not. It's been five amazing months. Five months full of new experiences. Korean experiences. I will never forget, or stop being grateful, for my time here. I know, I still have nine more months here....but let me just be in awe over the time that has passed, over the time that has allowed me time to think, to reflect, to be Korean, to be Swedish, to be American, to be me. Over a time in my life when I have eaten more 비빔밥 학오 바잔 학오 밥 than any one person should eat in a lifetime. I have said this before, but it's worth repeating: The power in walking down the street and totally and utterly and completely blend in is unimaginable!!!!!
My time here has, as I said, has allowed me lots of time to think and reflect. One thing that has taken up quite a bit of effort on my braincells has been the topic of adoption. When I arrived in Korea in January of 2008 I was fairly indifferent about adoption. I felt for the people who had had bad experiences. I was happy for the people who had had great experiences. I considered myself lucky as I had had a pretty good childhood.
Now, in a puney five months (relatively speaking to a lifetime) I can say that after reflecting on myself, and after talking with other adoptees, that adoption can really hurt people. The core of the person. The thinking of the person. The trust, love and outlook on life, or the lack thereof. Some people argue for Korean domestic adoption rather than selling the hundreds or even thousands of "orphaned" Korean babies to "white countries." I'm not sure about that. I'm still thinking about it.
I remember N and S. N (boy) and S (girl) are Swedish siblings. They came from an absusive home where drugs were flowing on a regular basis to a fosterhome in a city two hours north of their hometown. N stayed in fostercare for a few years until his drug addicted mother managed to get him back. S was younger than N and the mom was not as willing to get her back. S stayed in fostercare and was later adopted by the fosterfamily. Today, N is a druggie who is in and out of jail. S became a mother in her early/mid teenage years with a criminal who goes in and out of jail. S also does drugs....but thus far has been able to keep her child. Now, was it genetics that made both N and S become druggies/associate with druggies/jail-birds? Was it their lack of roots? Was it a fluke?
I remember the Daegu 아주시. He and I were interviewed at the same time in Korea in 2007 in search of our birthfamilies. He was a Korean 아주시. He looked like any and all 아주시's that walk down the streets in Korea. He had a more difficult time than I did dealing with the emotions of adoption. He had more scares than I do. He was so lost. Maybe because he was older than I was when he was abandoned. He had memories. He even drew a picture of the place he remembered being left at. Maybe because he was a male...and all the pressures of being a male in Korea. But the fact is that he was raised in a Korean home.
However, I am absolutely against international adoption. Adoption is nothing more than a baby-business. It's about money. It's about profit. Who is considering the children? Who is truly thinking about what's best for the child? "For barnets basta" som alla sager i Sverige/"For the welfare of the child" as people say in the States. Adoption can really hurt people. The core of the person. The thinking of the person. The trust, love and outlook on life, or the lack thereof. It's about selling babies and children for money.
I had a conversation with a Korean minister about this.
He said he was sorry I was adopted. He asked if I had a good childhood. He said he was greatful that there were people in this world who could love me and care for me. He said he was greatful to white people that come to Korea and are actually willing to pay money for a child that is not of their own blood (he did not use those words, but that was the jist of it.) He said that he could only love his own blood (he's married with two sons) and that he could never love a child that was not his own blood. [Your blood line is the most important thing in Korea.]
Now, it should be said, that I have had a good life. I was fortunate. I look around and it doesn't take long to meet people with horrible stories of abuse, maltreatment and total disregard. Despite my "luck," , I look at myself, and I know that there are parts of me that are void. That are dead. That are non-existing. That aren't there. I still am lucky, and I know it. My parents didn't beat me. But they never told me they loved me. My parents gave me all the money I wanted and when I wanted it and how I wanted it. But they never said they were happy they had me. My parents never had any rules for me to follow, like curfew. But they never cared what I did either. But, I still know now, as an adult, that they did what they could. They did what they thought was right. They did the best they could. I don't doubt that for even one second. They are my parents, and though they are choosing to not speak to me anymore, they will forever be my parents. I am greatful for the opportunities they allowed me. For today, all I have is me. I rely on myself. I am independent. I am learning to accept myself for who I am. I am in Korea. And I truly an happy (NEVER start a sentence with "and" as I tell my students....ooops, oh well, they'll never read this.)
End of May 2008 in Korea.
love //number 70322
