Whiskey & Soju
A journal for Koreans in Canada to share the challenges of cross-cultural relationships and the immigrant experience.
A journal for Koreans in Canada to share the challenges of cross-cultural relationships and the immigrant experience.
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(Read Part 1 here) (Read Part 2 here) You give her a big, slightly clumsy hug, perhaps holding on a moment too long, and then let go just as quickly. "The car is parked out back, if that's okay," you manage. She nods, a small, knowing
(Read Part 1 here) Friday rolls around. It's only been two days of talking with this girl. All you really know about her is that she likes art and could, apparently, devour hamburgers every single day. Sounds like your type of girl, you think, but a fog of
Try to imagine this for me. It's Wednesday. You wake up groggily, no matter how much you've actually slept – nine, ten, eleven hours, it makes no difference. You find yourself wondering if this is just what being over thirty feels like, this constant, low hum of
워킹 홀리데이 1년. 나는 캐나다를 떠날 준비를 하고 있었다. 처음 얻은 베이커 일자리는 새벽 출근과 불공정 스케줄, 무급 초과근무와 사내 정치질로 얼룩졌다. 매일 한국으로 돌아가고 싶었지만, "왜 벌써 왔냐"는 말을 듣기 싫다는 오기 하나로 버텼다. 돌이켜보면 미련한 시간이었다. 그 무렵 지금의 남편을 만났다. 한 달이 채 안
나는 학창 시절 친구에게 빌려준 샤프 하나 돌려달라 말을 못 해 밤새 끙끙 앓던 사람이었다. "세상은 믿을 놈 하나 없다"는 어머니의 가르침을 충실히 따르던 소위 '쫄보'였으니까. 혼자가 편했고, 사람을 쉽게 믿지 못했다. 심지어 지금 남편과 데이트하던 첫 달엔, 그가 건네는 물이나 음식도 그가 먼저
Let me be clear from the start: this isn't the fairy tale story some might expect. That’s partly because of who I am – admittedly stubborn and perhaps a little hard-headed. I should also explain that while I was born in South Korea, my family emigrated to Vancouver