Sunday, 26 August 2012

(Day 37) Hwaseong Immigration Detention Center-day 24

Today, I'm just writing to say I wrote something. Lunch was the same as it has been for the last 5 weeks, the routine is the same, etc. the only thing that changes is the date and the faces. I'm so bored, I'm starting to redraw some pictures, so even the drawings are the same now, just the technique is different. I suppose the drawing is an improvement even if it is essentially the same...

The point is, I'm bored and I don't know what else I can do to amuse myself. Even in a room of 11 other people, I feel lonely. Only two other peoples speak English and we talked each other out of anything else to say weeks ago. All the other detainees are foreigners, of course, but they are all factory workers who all speak Korean out of necessity. To most foreigners from English-speaking countries, we speak Korean out of choice because every Korean we meet wants to practice their English, making the  learning of Korean difficult.

I had a wife for 7 years who it translate everything I needed into English automatically because it was easier than dealing with me trying to struggle through it. I know it sounds like I'm making excuses, but there are lots of ESL teachers or and NESs like me who have lived in Korea for years and barely speak Korean.

Also the rose-colored glasses have come off and the Kool-Aid has soured, I have no desire to learn Korean. I don't even want to be here and everything about this place-- the people, the culture,TV, music, language, food-- you name it, irritates the fuck outta me. And before some smart-ass leaves a comment like "If you don't like it, just leave." I have been trying to, jackass. The government won't let me. That's why the title of all these entries are Hwaseong Immigration Detention Center and if you're actually reading this online it means I have left, so bite me.

Some people ask how I'm able to draw such detail drawings from the top of my head without looking at a photo or copy from a picture. the truth is, I usually draw the same picture a couple of times, so by the time I'm comfortable showing other people, the picture they see is actually a copy of a copy of a copy I've previously drawn. To paraphrase Michelangelo, the pictures already there I'm just coloring in the spaces. The ability to draw sure has helps to make friends over the years. I may not have many social graces or maybe I'm just awkward with the ones I have, but a drawing really helps to overcome a lot of barriers, including cultural and language barriers. If I believed in God, I owe him my thanks for blessing me with skills. Sometimes, it really is a gift and I am grateful for it. My reasoning mind says however, I draw a lot of pictures so it's only natural that I'm good at it. I saw an autistic kid on TV once who was able to look at something and recreated it in precise detail. They took this kid up in a helicopter over New York and this person recreated the skyline with exacting detail from one glance. It was truly amazing. That kid was gifted, I'm just a hack in comparison.

The funny thing about writing, once I started today, I actually had lots to write about. Although, I didn't really write about anything at all. Much ado about nothing.