I occasionally muse about what might happen if I went back to South Korea for a visit. I had a lot of “rizz” as the kids say when I was in South Korea and I’m sure there are a few South Koreans who remember me quite well.
I can just see me walking around the street in Seoul if I went back any time soon and some random Korean from my years there who remembered me popping out of the woodwork and saying, “Hey, man, there’s this perfect job for you at Samsung I know about…”
But there are a lot of problems with such a scenario.
It’s not like I’m going back to Seoul anytime soon — if ever. I could be nearly 60 years old — or older — by the time my lot in life changes to the point that I can even think about a return to Asia.
There are some other issues, but lulz, I don’t feel like talking about it.
I have no plans to return to Seoul anytime soon. In fact, the way things are going, I could be in my mid to late 50s before I have anywhere near the funds to do such a thing. And, even if it did happen today — I’ve waited too long.
It just won’t be as much fun.
I’m too old.
And, yet, there is a little part of me that still wants to return to Asia again just to see how my old stomping grounds are doing. I would like to see Nori Bar and Haebangchon and Itaewon again.
But I know that given how fast things move in South Korea that everything would be different in the extreme, to the point that it would all be a lulz and a huge fucking letdown.
The fact that I’m just too old to enjoy any return trek to Asia weighs heavily on my mind. It’s one of those things you just don’t really think about — that there are things you have access to in your 30s that you don’t when you’re in your 50s.
I don’t really believe in New Age bullshit, but sometimes I do find myself having a curious sensation — that someone, somewhere in South Korea (or connected to it) is thinking about me really hard.
Me, (right) in South Korea around 2004.
I know this is fantastical, but in the past, at least, around the time I have such feelings, someone will swoop in and look at this blog. It hasn’t happened — yet — but someone did download “Somehow” my 30,000 word screed about the crazy days and nights I “enjoyed” between 2006 and 2008 in connection to ROKon Magazine, Nori Bar and the late Annie Shapiro.
I dunno. I just don’t know what to tell you, folks. It’s probably nothing. It’s been about 13 years since I was in South Korea and there’s no reason to believe anyone in South Korea — even a Korean — thinks about me at all these days.
But it is all very….spooky. It does, yet again, make me want to return to South Korea (and Asia in general) one last time to see what’s up. I know South Korea well enough to know that there’s a 50 / 50 chance that if I went back to Seoul anytime soon I’d find myself with a job at Samsung training an AI.
This summer marks the 20th anniversary of my first journey to Asia. There is a Before Asia me and an an After Asia me, for better or worse. Now, at the moment, the likelihood of me EVER returning to Asia — or even leaving the country — is quite remote.
Me, with my students in the summer of 2004.
I’m very, very, very, very poor.
But things are known to change in a heartbeat and, who knows, I might find myself with a little extra money at some point before I die and, as such, I could journey back to Asia for a visit. At this point, I think I would probably go to Japan, then South Korea, then Southeast Asia then come home.
The entire trip would be no more than maybe three weeks.
My biggest concern will be, of course, that I’ll be walking around, say, Seoul, and some Korean who remembers me from back in the day will all but demand I stay in country to, I don’t know, train LLMs for Samsung or something. That’s how things work in South Korea as an expat.
I don’t know what I would do in such a situation.
A lot would depend on HOW I got the money to return to Asia. If I blew up with my novel money, then I think I would politely just move on along. But if, say, something like the North Korean had collapsed and I was on my way to teach ESL there, then, yeah, I might stop in Seoul instead of finishing my journey to the former DPRK.
Anyway, all of this is just a bunch of daydreaming at the moment. There’s no reason to think I will sell my novel — even if I stick the landing — anytime soon. I could be in my mid-to-late 50s by the time I’m a published author, the way things are going.
But I have to admit that I continue to, on occasion, idly daydream about a return to Asia.
Barring something I simply can not predict at the moment, I’m not going to South Korea or Asia anytime soon. But that doesn’t stop me from really wanting to return for a few weeks.
Me, (background), in the bad old day of Seoul.
I think, in all honesty, what’s going on is I just want to visit A Real City and I’m either too broke (NYC) or it’s too far away AND I’m broke (LA). So, I idly muse about going to Asia again.
It’s been so long since I was in Asia that I think the whole thing would be a rather meh experience. There are a few people in Asia that if I specifically tracked them down there would be drama…but it’s just not worth it. I just want to swoop in for a few weeks, see some of my old stomping grounds then head home.
That’s it.
There is, of course, always a risk that some people will demand that I absolutely stay for this or that great job opportunity they would love for me to fill. That would be…existential…for more reasons than one.
But that’s a serious amount of hopeful daydreaming on my part. I think I could probably sneak into Seoul and leave without too much drama. Of course, there would probably be at least one Korean who would stop cold in their tracks if they saw me and freak the fuck out.
The thing they don’t tell you about living in South Korea is there is something of a time limit. But the time limit is different for everyone and you can reach it without any notice. This is definitely what happened to me.
But as 2024 rolls around, I find myself thinking of my first journey to South Korea in the summer of 2004. Living in Asia totally, totally changed my life and world view. There is a before and after, especially once the whole ROKon Magazine catastrophe took place.
The issue is that ROKon Magazine kind of kneecapped me on an emotional basis because once I got home, a combination of grief and not knowing what I wanted to do with my life put me in neutral for about a decade. I had ambition but no motivation.
I wanted to either go back to Asia or move to somewhere like New York City, but I just did not have the emotional strength to pull it off. So, I did nothing. Now, of course, I have both ambition and motivation when it comes to the novel I’m working on.
The problem is, of course, that if I should blow up with my DJ (novel money) and suddenly have the resources to get married and have kids…I will be about 20 years late relative to my peers. And all my female peers would be in their 50s and, as such, unable to have kids.
Everything would be far more complicated than I thought, even if I finally achieved the success by living up to the “potential” that the late Annie Shapiro told me I had all those years ago.
I still want to return to Asia, though. And, yet, if I did sell my first novel and had the means to return to Asia in some capacity, even that context would be different. My time in South Korea was sooooo long ago that only a few Koreans might remember who I am. (Which, given how crazy I was in South Korea, is probably a good thing.)
It’s all very muddled because in my mind, I’m 20 years younger but I’m now reminded on a daily basis that I definitely am NOT that young anymore. At least I’m alive and (reasonably) healthy.
The last few days I’ve really had South Korea on the brain and so imagine my surprise when lo and behold, I saw today that — you guessed it — someone from South Korea checked out this blog.
Whenever this happens, I’m at a loss. I have no idea why the person looked at my blog and all it does is stir up memories of my wasted youth. I could have been the most famous expat in South Korea if only little Korean kids didn’t hate my guts.
And, yet, here I am — nearly 20 years since I first went to South Korea, still nursing my wounds from stupid shit that happened a long time ago. I am well aware that if I ever went back to Asia, it wouldn’t be anything like what I remember it being.
Things move fast in Asia — and especially South Korea — and the whole vibe would be different. It was different the last time I was in South Korea. It was, in short, boring. I just happened to be in South Korea at a very specific moment in time when things were really, really bonkers and interesting in the expat community there.
I think if I wanted any similar experience, I would have to go to Cambodia. But, even then, I think that’s probably overrated. The Internet has ruined everything and people just swoop in and get all the cool stuff of living in Asia without having to go through the hard part of learning the culture and networking with fellow expats.
So, it was a long time ago and nobody cares anymore.
Living in Seoul as an expat changed my life in a fundimental, existential manner. There was the me Before Seoul and the me After Seoul. And the person who enabled this change, for better or for worse, was the late Annie Shapiro. That hippie weirdo gave me experiences that I could have never otherwise had because she believed in me and believed in our shared dream of ROKon Magazine.
The late Annie Shapiro and me, back in the good olde days when I was young and cute.
I only bring this up because for some weird reason, I continue to get pings on this Website from Seoul. I have no idea why anyone from Seoul would care what I have to say. And, in all honesty, I don’t know if the people who occasionally look at this blog from Seoul even know me, if it they’re some third party who has heard a stray comment about me at a bar.
Who knows.
But the issue is, at the moment, I just want to be forgotten in Seoul. I was going through a really, really rough moment in my life for much of my time in Seoul and I did and said things that I regret. I was “pickled” in the sense that I was drinking way, way, way, too much soju. I was manic and I was self-medicating, never a great combination.
I’m 50 now and very definitely want to look towards the future of potentially being a traditionally published author at some point in the near future. I will admit, of course, that the process by which I’m writing my first novel requires a great deal of wallowing in nostalgia for the Good Old Days of Seoul, even though they sucked a lot of the time.
Anyway, the fact that anyone in Seoul cares enough about me to look at this Website is unnerving. It’s almost 20 years since I first arrived at Incheon Airport for my first tour in the country. The idea that someone in South Korea not only remembers me, but cares enough to see what I’m writing about….is kind of startling.
I was definitely a larger-than-life character at moments during my time in South Korea. I was so nuts at one point, in fact, that someone did a write up of me that ended up in a self-published book devoted to crazy expats. That was kind of tough, I have to say.
I suppose there is a greater-than-zero chance that I will return to Seoul at some point before I drop dead. But if it happens, it will because I sold my novel and it was a big enough success that I will have the funds to return.
At the moment, barring the DPRK collapsing and there being a bubble for ESL teachers there so intense that even a deadbeat like me can get a ticket to teach…it’s just not going to happen.
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