Why I Am Thankful for Your USA Job Connection, But I'm Moving Back to Korea

If you've lived abroad, you undoubtedly carry a quiver of sharpened answers to parry the seemingly infinite assault of questions: Why did you choose (country)? Are you fluent in (language)? Do they speak English there? Isn't it dangerous/difficult/frustrating/lonely? Then there is that one question, often phrased as a comment, which makes you grit your teeth and dig for a teacher's patience (that I don't quite have): Why don't you just get a job here in the US?

Why don't I get a job in the US? I will politely accept information about whatever job in whatever city you offer, one I can secure without late night interviews, without blundering through the visa process, without flying 20+ hours, without struggling to communicate everyday, without relocating my whole life, and without leaving behind family, friends, and familiarity. I have smiled and thank-you'd and politely recorded the necessary contact info. But now it's time to explain why I didn't seem too enthusiastic, why I likely discarded that piece of scrap right away. Here's why expats willingly cut through the jungle of international employment, why we choose the path less traveled: we want to.

Living abroad is not the same as going on vacation. Expats have to trudge through all the real world, real life, real boring day-to-day stuff that people at home do, and we often have to do it in a foreign language. For many of us this extra challenge to the mundane is what makes expat life exciting, interesting, and worth it, but don't get me wrong, it's not easy. If I didn't want to be adding all this extra work to my daily grind, I wouldn't be.

But why move away, aside from apparent social masochism via mispronounced syllables? Expat life has its perks, with the opportunity to travel being an obvious benefit. Weekend trips to the same old hang become treasure hunts through invigoratingly unfamiliar landscapes and cultures. Vacations are rustic backpacking+wild spring break+touristy family trip. Even a quick stop at the grocery store can be an adventure (Blueberry ice cream Oreos, anyone? Shrimp-flavored chips?). Another bonus is the unique feel of an expat community: we are simultaneously colleagues, therapists, love interests, lawyers, home-spun embarrassers, and brethren. Everyone is familiar by way of being strangers. We need each other for shared knowledge of local secrets, and scorn each other for revealed ignorance via baggy elephant print pants and rudimentary language skills. Living at home is going through the motions. Living abroad is those motions with one hand tied behind your back—a bit of a nuisance, but mostly an exhilarating, enlightening, and sometimes sexy challenge.

Aside from wanting to get out, one thing people often overlook is that at this time in my life I can get out. I don't have children, I don't have sickly relatives, I don't have property to maintain, I don't have schooling to complete...There is nothing chaining me to any particular location. Some of those chains are inevitable, some shackles I will eventually close onto myself. But now I'm not weighted by those things. I feel the push and the pull and inner drive to take advantage of my privilege, my youth, and my freedom.


More reasons you demand? Personally, I can make better money in Korea. Many expats can guarantee their financial stability before they even step on the plane. Yes I can make money at home, but more likely I'd be stuck working two jobs, sacrificing hours dedicated to my career for hours making less money doing something I don't care about.

Why do I have to move away? I want to. I can. I should. But the best answer: why not? Home is here, and it's not moving. I have my passport, I have my social security number. I have my mom's cell phone on speed dial. When I'm ready to come home, the things will I need and the people who matter will be around. And in the mean time, I'll be convincing them to take a break from normal life, and visit me in a whole other world.