by Katherine Seibert, ETA ’20

Much like any afternoon, my office mates and I took a stroll around our school after lunch. And, much like any afternoon, I was mostly quiet. At lunch, I had missed yet another conversation between my co-teacher and the woman sitting opposite to her. From the words I recognized, I guessed they were swapping plans about their summers. When I lost the thread of what the conversation was about, I had resigned myself to listening for words or phrases in Korean I did know. 

Being continually on the outskirts of a conversation I barely understand can be isolating, and this isolation can feel all-consuming. I cannot expect my co-teacher to stop and translate every conversation of which I stand on the edge. But still, it’s better to be in the conversation as opposed to missing the chance to be present at all.

This day was no different. Despite the summer heat descending upon Korea, everyone at school seemed determined to make loops around the worn track until we were all sweaty. We walked in relative silence, with my coworkers acknowledging my occasional attempts to describe the weather or the school garden with patient smiles. We took a final loop around the school and stopped to chat with a woman who worked in administration. The conversation was the most animated of the afternoon – my co-teacher, who had mentioned how tired she was earlier that morning, suddenly became chatty. Hands resting protectively on their stomachs, they laughed so loudly I’m sure they could be heard across the school. I, however, was more lost than ever. 

It wasn’t until the woman from administration leaned to place a hand on my co-teacher’s stomach that I remembered I had just learned that my Fulbright co-teacher was pregnant. And, I realized, with her baby bump showing in her sundress, so was the woman we spoke to. Putting this together, I tried to tune back into the conversation. I did my best to keep up – yet there’s been no chapter in a beginner’s Korean textbook on “making office small talk about being pregnant” so my vocabulary was limited to catching due dates and hearing basic words like “아프다” (hurt).

Photo by Andrianna Boykin

What’s wonderful is that body language is universal, and womens’ stories of children and motherhood are not that different from country to country. Most of the Korean language evaded me in this conversation, but the context and the body language – women swapping the questions of – how’s your stomach? Are you eating okay? Does your back hurt? How far along are you? Six months? What date are you due? Oh, only one day before me! – and, the friendly teasing of – you’re not showing at all! Look at how skinny you are!  – were all the same. Their hand gestures, waving in the air, mimicking a slim waist, were universal.

Very soon there was a cluster of other teachers, some older and younger women, chuckling and talking about how much they showed during their own pregnancies, how much their backs hurt, whether their first pregnancy was worse than the second. Older women shook their heads, smiling, as the younger expectant mothers supported their own aching backs. We were surrounded by communal joy, spurred by shared experiences.

How lovely community is in any language, and how grateful I was to stand on the outside looking in and see the joy. Afterwards, I asked my co-teacher to give me a rundown of the conversation. I was pleasantly surprised that most of my assumptions were correct, and she helped to fill in the gaps of what I missed – mainly morning sickness remedies from the older women passed on from generation to generation. After sharing my own version of the conversation, my co-teacher seemed surprised at first that I understood, and then shrugged.

These conversations happen every day, all over the world, she said. Not just here.

It was a brief and welcome chance for me to feel connected to the people around me. On that after-lunch walk, the gap between my life and theirs didn’t seem that large.

 

[Featured Photo by Christa Hoskins]