Heck knows why I’m in South Korea. Four years later and I’m sitting here scratching my head just as confused as my parents are. I am still as clueless about life as I was nine years ago when I was in my final year of school. And I am even more clueless about when I will eventually return to the sugarcane farm on which I live in KwaZulu-Natal, a province bathed by sun and sea in South Africa.
“Don’t you think it’s time to come home and return to Journalism?” asks my father, every time I Skype home.
“Or why don’t you return to Rhodes and further your studies in Linguistics?” asks my mother, not doing very well to hide the desperation in her voice.
One day. But for now I’ll remain clueless in Korea. I’ll continue taking photos of the abandoned chairs scattered all over the country and I’ll continue being entertained by the…let’s call it ‘uniqueness’ of Korean culture. And I’ll continue teaching English. I think that’s why I came here in the first place. Or did I come here to escape my farm life? As I said before, heck knows.
But what I do know is writing is my thing. And I want to burden you with my story.