Tag: expat life

Class Is A Very Corrosive Social Issue

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

It’s very interesting how in America we’re so busy talking about racism that we are pretty oblivious to another prejudice: class. I can usually fake a similar class as the smug asshole Twitter liberals who want to sell me MeUndies on their podcast. That is, until, of course, my natural bonkers kookiness comes out and they dismiss me.

Also, I’m just too poor — at the moment — for smug Blue Check liberals to accept me in any real way, no matter how much they probably would like me if they got to know me.

And that, my friend, is why class sucks.

I could win the $1.1 billion Mega Millions jackpot and it wouldn’t change how old I am and it wouldn’t change my class background. I have a relative who is far more successful than I am who acts like he’s some salt of the earth red neck when, in fact, if we both went to a cocktail party with snooty wealthy people they would definitely gravitate towards him in the end.

I would, however, probably get drunk in such a situation and have very loud, very interesting conversations with the best looking woman at the party. That’s just sort of my thing.

Anyway, the older I get the more I understand the invisible power of class. When I was an expat in South Korea, there was a regular communist utopia going on because everyone was getting paid about the same amount and everyone was doing pretty much the same thing for a living. The only real differences were one of origin, which is why you often get asked, “Where you from?” when you saddle up to a bar and find yourself talking to someone new.

As I approach my 50th birthday, I’m feeling a lot of existential angst because no matter what happens to me there are some things I just can’t change because of my dissipated, squandered youth.

South Korea On My Mind

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

Yet another expat from South Korea who I don’t know looked at my LinkedIn profile within the last 24 hours, which yet again makes me wonder if people in the South Korea expat community are still talking about me.

I don’t think you realize how colorful and over-the-top I was at the height of my bonkers behavior in Seoul in late 2006 – to early 2008. I was so over the top, so manic that someone even put me in a book about weird expats. That did wonders for my self-esteem, let me tell you.

“It was all long time ago and nobody cares anymore,” is what I like to tell myself, but I think maybe I’m underestimating the impact I had one my fellow expats all those years ago. There are two types of expats in South Korea — the ones who stay a short amount of time and the ones who never leave and go slowly insane. (I say this as someone who stayed too long and abruptly left South Korea because of “homesickness.”)

I love South Korea, but there is definitely a time limit for most people who live there for more than just a year or two. Something about Korean culture really, really gets to the Western mind and it takes a unique person with a hearty constitution to be able to survive for more than, say, five or six years.

Now that I think about it, my best friend from my Korea days is back in South Korea at the moment and I suppose it’s possible that in the process of catching up with people (she’s been out of country for a few years) I get brought up in conversation — expats love, love, love to gossip — and, ta-da someone gets curious enough that they look at my woefully unimportant LinkedIn profile.

The core of the six novel project I’m working on at the moment is pretty much what was going on in my life in late 2006 – early 2007 when I was running ROKon Magazine and DJing at Nori Bar in Sinchon. Those were the days, as they say. I am using my extremely romanticized memories of that era in my life — smashed into a few other eras of my life — as the basis of a murder mystery set in a small town in Virginia. The apex of my life to date. I’m hoping that I can ride those memories to sticking the landing with my first novels. Even if I’m going to be way too old to do such a thing by the time everything gets sorted out.

Anyway. I really miss South Korea, despite everything. But for the fact that little Koreans don’t like me (and I don’t like them) I would probably be still in South Korea, married to a Korean woman with a small brood of Amerasian children struggling to learn English like the rest of the Korean population.

This is 50: Being A Long-Term Expat In South Korea Changed My Life

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

So, this is 50. Or, almost. I will be turning that milestone year in a few months. It’s January 1st of this momentous year, so I find myself reflecting on my life to date and wondering how things got so fucked up.

I think the key thing that I simply could not process at the time is that there is a time limit for 99% of the people who are long term expats in South Korea. I love South Korea, its people and culture, but something about living there long-term as an expat can do a real number on your mind. I’ve compared it to being really close to a really hot — but extremely eccentric – girlfriend who ultimately you have to break up with because she’s driving you bonkers.

So, I think that if I had left South Korea in the spring of 2007 that maybe things would have worked out better for me. It would have been extremely painful in the short term — I was addicted to being an expat at the time — but in the long term I would have been able to sort out a lot of mental issues before they ultimately got out of control.

Maybe I would have drifted to New York City and been able to live my dream of being young-ish there. But, as it is, I waited too long and now even if I somehow manage to sell a break out first novel I’m just never going to be able to live the life of a smug wealthy bi-coastal liberal who flies over Iowa and laughs at the poor rubes below me.

Me, back when I was a young idiot expat in South Korea.

As it stands, if my literary dreams come true the whole context will be a lot different than I could have ever expected. Being a “success” suddenly in your early to mid 50s is a lot different than being a “success” suddenly in your late 30s. The failure of ROKOn Magazine kneecapped me on an emotional basis and it took me a very, very long time to get my wits about me once everything was said and done.

Despite all my depressing talk, I continue to have a hunch that it’s a least possible that The Finger of God might point at me in a rather dramatic fashion at some point between now and, say, spring 2025. I have no idea what that might be, but I do know my native skillset and I have “skillz” as they say that might come in handy one way or another.

Or, to put it another way — I’m not dead yet.

I Haven’t Felt This Alone Since South Korea

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

Because of some quirks in my personal life, I find myself late Christmas Eve all alone. I haven’t been this alone since I was living in South Korea. If you want to feel alone, walk around the streets of a massive Asia city unable to speak the language day after day.

Anyway, I only write this post because, yet again, someone from South Korea is interested in me and I can see them looking at my Korea-specific posts. I really, at this point, want to be forgotten in South Korea — by both expats and Koreans alike. All that was a long time ago, guys. A very long time ago.

Yes, I was bonkers and drunk all the time, but I’ve changed a great deal since all of that. It’s like I’ve had a brain transplant. I was full of manic pride back then and it didn’t help that soju hits my body like some sort of warped crank. I get really loud and hyper if I drink a lot of soju. Which, back in the day, I did.

But the idea that — anyone — would give a shit about me in South Korea evokes a great deal of mixed emotions. I know I wronged a few people in South Korea who have a reason to want me to come back to South Korea so they can, I don’t know, yell at me. And, thankfully, there are a few people I made really happy while I was there and they would just like to hang out.

At the moment — I’m not coming back to South Korea. I may want to, but if I do, it’s going to be for a very specific reason: I’ll suddenly have enough money to do it. There are a few ways that this might happen rather abruptly, but the one I’m hoping for is I sell my first novel and it’s a big enough success that that unto itself, could fund a trip back to Asia for a little while.

And, yet, at the moment that’s very much a daydream.

It could be a decade — or more! — before I ever set foot in Seoul again. But while there’s life there’s hope.

It’s Better To Burn Out Than To Fade Away

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I can tell from my Webstats that this Website continues to get the occasional view from the occasional person in South Korea. I honestly don’t know what to make of this. I haven’t been in South Korea in a long, long time and I struggle with any rationale for someone living there to care enough about me to check up on me.

I live a very boring life at the moment, other than writing a novel that I hope will be the cornerstone of a six novel project.

But, if I’m honest with myself, I was very much a colorful, larger than life figure during much of my time in South Korea — specifically Seoul in late 2006 – early 2007. I was a wildman, burning my candle at both ends because I was manic and self-medicating with huge amounts of booze. I was a “public figure” in the tiny expat community of Seoul and I was also over exposed because I was both DJing at Nori Bar and publishing what was briefly the only English magazine in town.

The whole experience dramatically changed my self-perception, if nothing else. It was during that time that I realized I was far more creative than I could ever possibly have realized. It was in Seoul when I realized that I was never going to be a traditional journalist.

Ironically, however, I know that given the resources I could probably produce a really cool Website or magazine. Because of my experiences with ROKon Magazine, I know what NOT to do. But I would need a lot of help — I may be articulate and able to expound upon a vision, but I’m shit at persuasion. Which is why, of course, I needed someone like the late Annie Shapiro to make my vision a reality.

Anyway.

There’s no reason for anyone from South Korea to care about me at the moment. Just forget about me. It was a long time ago and nobody cares anymore.

Age Isn’t Just A Number

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

It took me going to South Korea for about five years for me to realize I wasn’t a journalist but rather the more nebulous “creative type.”As such, I wasted at least a decade of my life thinking I might work for, say, The Richmond Times-Dispatch.

I’m old.

In highsight, that dream was both delusional and laughable.

Age, while as immutable as sex or race, is not a metric you really think about as something you have to contend with as something that might stand in the way of your dreams.

And, yet, here I am, nearly 50, realizing that even if I get what I want — to write a breakout pop novel — I won’t get what I REALLY want, which is to be a young successful writer living in New York City chasing hot chicks. Even if I stick the landing with this first novel, I’m still going to be so old that it would be extremely creepy for me to attempt to hang out with 24 year olds. And, what’s worse, all my female peers are now too old have children.

AND, if I DID manage to be a father, I’m so old that the whole thing would be weird.

I spent way, way, way too much time grieving over a failed magazine in South Korea to the point that even if I become successful at last, it will be considered “later in life.” My age, unto itself, will be the hook that everyone mentions when talking about my career.

And that’s if I stick the landing with this first novel. It could be that a combination of me being bonkers and being extremely conspicuous online with my drunken bonkerness combined with my age will make any literary agent worth their salt turn up their nose at me. I already can’t get literary types to help me with my manuscript — even if I offer to pay them!

It’s a very disheartening.

There’s just not anything I can do about it. No matter how successful I might ultimately become, the issue of what I did for about 15 years after leaving South Korea — nothing — will be a topic of conversation.

I hate that. I want to be judged on the merits of my talent, not how old I am. But that window of opportunity is gone. If I was 20 years younger, everything would be different. I would be normal.

I don’t know — am I having a midlife crisis?

Sometimes, I Wonder

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

There’s no reason for anyone from South Korea to care one bit about me. And, yet, to this day, occasionally someone from ROK will either look at my LinkedIn profile or look at this site.

It’s very curious.

I haven’t been in South Korea in a long, long time. For me, it’s a very romanticized era in my life, which is the inspiration for a six novel project. The idea that anyone that I know from my days in ROK would even think about me is something I find very puzzling.

I suppose I made a bigger impression on people that I realized. And I have to remember that the long-term expats in South Korea have a very, very, very long collective memory. And that doesn’t even begin to address all the Koreans who were around, watching, as I went rather bonkers for a few months in late 2006 – 2008.

It makes me wonder what might happen if I ever return to South Korea for a little trip. It’s not going to happen anytime soon, but there are definitely a few people in South Korea who would have a VERY STRONG reaction to seeing me again.

The ironic thing about it all is, of course, that I’m a very different person than I was back then. I’ve turned into a graybeard and have far more humility than I ever did while I was living in South Korea.

In a way, I wish people in South Korea would just forget me. And, yet, I have to accept that I was very much a larger than life figure for a brief and shining moment a long time ago.

Young Expat In Love

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I was really….unique…in late 2006 – early 2007 when I was living in Seoul as an expat. I was a DJ at the best expat bar in the city while at the same time struggling to keep ROKon Magazine afloat. I lost both of these things around my birthday in February 2007. Despite this, the memory of what was going on at that point in my life is seared my mind to the point that it’s pretty much at the forefront of my mind constantly even to this day.

The late Annie Shapiro and me back when I was cute.

Given this situation, I have really, really dug deep into what happened to me in Seoul for this six novel project I’m working on. In fact, I would go so far as to say there are maybe six or seven people in the world who, if they should ever read these novels, will be able to pick out exactly what the inspiration from Seoul I’m using to flesh out it’s universe.

In my mind, at least, there is a direct one-to-one between elements in this six novel project at what I remember of my life in Seoul. It all reminds me of how in “Young Shakespeare in Love” you get to see the real world inspiration for some of the major elements of The Bard’s works.

My time in Seoul was some of the most creative of my entire life. It all came at a price, of course — it all kind of drove me bonkers. The pressure of effectively rather abruptly, within the context of the microscopic Seoul expat community being a public figure really, really, got to me. And all of it was happening in the context of how being an expat in South Korea can really do a number on your mental health just in general.

I love South Korea and its culture, but living there long term is like having a really intense relationship with a really hot, but very eccentric girlfriend. You get to have all this fun with her, but all that fun comes at a pretty significant cost.

Anyway, there is probably a 50 / 50 chance that I will return to South Korea for a little visit before I drop dead. My current goal is I’d like to return around the 20th anniversary of me getting there the first time around in the summer of 2004. It’s not looking like that is going to happen at the moment — I’m just a broke ass writer — but A LOT can happen between now and then.

What Is It This Time

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I often say that if you live in South Korea long enough as an expat it’s something of a black hole. There is an Event Horizon and you never really leave, even if physically you’re on the other side of the globe.

It was a long time ago and nobody cares anymore. (I hope.)

So, when I see in my Webstats that someone from Seoul obviously came looking for me online and found this Website, all I can think is, “What is it this time.” Add to this that someone I know from my time in South Korea who is still there looked at my LinkedIn profile leads me to believe there might be a little bit of chatter about me in Seoul currently.

I was in South Korea — and Seoul specifically — a long, long time ago. But I will admit that I had a very -VERY — memorable time there. I was doing a lot of things for a short amount of time. I was both a magazine publisher and a DJ. In fact, there was moment in time in late 2006 when I was probably one of the most famous expats in Seoul. I was a bit overexposed.

But that was all so long ago it makes me wonder what it possibly be happening NOW that would make anyone talk about me. It’s a very jarring situation where I’m pretty isolated at the moment and all I do is just work on my six novel project and aggressively daydream. Though given what’s going on with the novel and how much I draw upon my personal history to tell the story, I do still think a whole lot about my time in Seoul.

A cornerstone of the plot of the novel is I’m re-creating what was going on in my life in 2006 — 2007 only in a completely different context. Anyway, whatever is causing people in Seoul to be interested in me now can only be so bad. I hope, at least.

Today’s Itaewon Halloween Tragedy Is a Horror

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

The thing about the huge death toll that is now being reported out of Seoul from a very tragic Halloween incident — 146 at last count — is if I was still in South Korea, I could have been among those who suffered. Itaewon was one of my go-to haunts back in the day.

When I was in South Korea, of course, things were a lot different — Itaewon was pretty sleezy, like 1970s New York City. But things had begun to change by the time I left for good.

The whole thing gives me pause for thought. It reminds you of how fragile life is on a day-to-day basis. I really miss South Korea and Seoul and I worry there are people I may know from my time there who were involved in this tragedy.

That’s probably one of the most jarring things about leaving South Korea — it’s pretty value free, in its own way. You can go, spend a few years there and when you come home, it’s like it never happened.

Though, I will note that there was a time there a few years ago when I somehow managed to continue to influence events on the ground in Seoul. That was kind of surreal.

Anyway, keep South Korea in your thoughts and prayers. They’re going to need them.