When the well is dry, we know the worth of water.

This is a Korean proverb that I learned from one of my students this evening. She had written a story about two girls who had been friends since youth. Their friendship was very strong, but they eventually betrayed each other (the more beautiful of the two was blinded by a man's love, made the other friend believe she had suddenly died (by taking a mysterious potion) in order to feel sorry for her, and then the other friend killed herself out of sorrow for her friend. The first friend, upon waking, discovers that her friend is actually dead, and thereafter kills herself with a knife. Did I mention also that they're both mermaids?) Basically, it's a cross between The Little Mermaid and Romeo and Juliet. Despite the heavy plot borrowing, I was still impressed with my student's relative creativity. When I asked her what made her think of the idea, she cited the above proverb, saying she'd read it in a book and it'd stuck in her head all day. I can only assume she meant (in her story) that one realizes the value of a friendship, when it has been lost.

For me, this proverb is something of a wake-up call, and flows with my general mood about our time in Korea as of late. It's probably obvious that since our return from the Philippines (and probably even before then), the frequency of my blog posts has decreased. This is no indication that life is dull or boring here. Quite the contrary (though oftentimes it is quiet). Recently I've been feeling the need to slow down and just live. To live and not document, either through writing or by pictures.

Yesterday I took a hike up Mt. Cheongdaesan and around Sokcho (behind our apartment) by myself. Cheongdaesan was one of my first discoveries here, and I remember that I found it on a sunny, still winter morning. I walked up there to enjoy the spectacular view of the city and the coast. You can see everything up top, and it was breezy and peaceful. Surveying Sokcho I was reminded again of how unique and special this place is, and how we'll never be in a place like this again. I just wanted to stand there forever, gazing out over the city.

And so, as much as I want to communicate about our time in Korea, I've been realizing more and more that I want to seize the moments we have left here. To be with our Korean friends, and continue learning about the culture and language. To enjoy (and I really have been, especially lately) teaching and my students. To relax and just look, without stopping to worry if I got the greatest photo. It may be that when this year is over, and only then, I will know how valuable our time here was.