For whatever reason, you have to eat when you drink soju. Any time the host father is around early in the evening, we drink soju, either with dinner or with some kind of food made specifically so that we can drink soju after dinner. Last night we drank soju over the second of the applie pies <–see! I have a problem. What is an applie? –> and between the three of us just about finished it. It was better. Made with real butter, before I ran out and had to use margarine. They requested that I make it again on Monday when they get back from China. I proposed a toast –Happy Thanksgiving– clinked glasses with Mr. Im and ate pie with chopsticks and that was my holiday.
A letter from my grandmother was on my desk this morning. A letter about Thanksgiving, appropriately, since it is still Thanksgiving there. It will be an untraditional, was an untraditional, holiday for all of us. I am not the only change. They, I don’t know who, but someones, talk about how when you are abroad you think of home in static terms, as what you’ll come back to, and it can be shocking to return to find that it has changed.
It is unsettling not to, to know that it is changing and that you don’t know what you will see when you get off the plane, what people will look like, how they are feeling, or what their daily routine is anymore. I am only now beginning to feel like I didn’t just get here and in a month I will have finished my first semester; will have been here longer than I’ve been abroad anywhere before.