I didn’t think I would survive. I was walking through a street full of strange things in a strange place full of strangers and who were towering over me. They all looked like rough people who would swear and hit you if you even dared to look them in the eye. An acrid, factory smell filled the air making every single smell bud inside my nose rot and contributing greatly in turning my mucus black. Everywhere I looked I saw tall buildings that seemed to eclipse all the light coming from the sun. All I heard was people swearing, cars and buses honking my ear drums off, and cacophonous, ubiquitous music blaring out of miniature speakers in the side of the road. Every stranger was tapping on his or her phone like there was nothing better to do than stare lifelessly and tap endlessly into their small digital worlds. In the bus stop where about twenty people were waiting in, at least half the people were smoking; did they know any public etiquette? No one in Thailand really smokes in a public place. I got nauseous when I held my breath and tried not let my lungs atrophy.

After what had seemed like forever, I finally got onto the bus and dropped a 500 won coin in the small box for bus fees. Then I had to hold on for my life because the bus driver was going crazily fast- swooshing down the bus lane, and probably going at about 100 kilometers per hour. Then with a loud screeeeeeeeeeech the bus stopped; almost making me slam my face into the ground. This was my stop. I staggered off the bus and went into our aunt’s apartment. Waiting for an elevator that came from the 24th floor was a long, droning wait. Then I had to go to the 19th floor, the second long, droning wait. Then I finally arrived at my aunt’s apartment and punched the nine digit long password to get in the house. My perilous journey finally ended as I flopped onto the couch next to my cousins who were probably watching TV for the 5th hour in a row.

This is one typical day for me in my “home” country: South Korea.

This is not a surprising array of events to other MK's (missionary kids) and TCK's (third culture kids- kids who are exposed to three different types of cultures) in the world, our “home country,” or more accurately said “passport country” is often times a foreign country. Because of the 16 out of 16 years of my life lived in Thailand, Korea approaches me as any other country in the world would; Kenya, Brazil, China. In other words, I am not familiar with it at all except knowing the outside information you can snatch up from the internet or hear from other people. To make it worse, I never really liked Korea (except for the amusement parks and visiting my relatives, but that’s it) or the people there, or the society, or the overcrowded cities (with both buildings and people). This bad feeling towards Korea may have greatly influenced my thoughts so that whenever I saw something displeasing about Korea, I saw it worse than it actually was. I thought every other country in the world was better than Korea. Korea has middle schoolers and high schoolers who can't communicate regularly without the use of inappropriate language in every sentence. Everywhere you go, you would see people tapping on their phones. The only things that were important to people living in Korea (in my eyes) were studying, dressing in the latest trend, and their phones. I just didn’t understand that. In fact, I didn’t understand anything about Korea because I thought everything there was disdainful.

But now, I realize that I was criticizing Korea based on the stereotypical facts I’ve been hearing from my surroundings. Korea may not be perfect, but no country around the world is perfect. So Korea may not have its society exactly the way I want it, but I shouldn’t hate my country because of those facts; especially if they’re mostly not true. After all, my country was one of the fastest countries to fight itself out of post-war poverty. Our K-pop culture has found its way into many, many societies in the world. Finally, although only 60 years passed after the devastating Korean War, our country is a big part of global economics and the IT world. I am a Korean whether I like it or not, that is my identity. I can't change my identity; even if I try to change my passport country, or try to get another country’s citizenship, or live in another country for many years. These things don't make me less Korean, not any less than myself degrading the image of my home country. So rather than belittling Korea about some rather stupid and somewhat untrue facts, I will uphold and show people the good bits and love those bits.