You Can’t Go Home Again

Get caught in a paperwork nightmare. Panic. Drop 1.5 million KRW on a one way ticket to Eastern Canada. Take a deep breath. Climb in a tin can. Spend 26 hours in can. Emerge bewildered and confused at two in the morning. Stumble into the cold, humid Canadian air.


Photo by Keith Pomakis.

After two and a half years, I’m sitting in a living room in Halifax. Or to be more precise, the suburb of Cole Harbour. I’m here to sort out a backlog of paperwork that the RCMP doesn’t seem fit to process in a timely manner.

It’s been said that you can’t go home again. I can mostly agree with this statement. This city changed on me. Sure, some buildings moved around, and new sprawling subdivisions have risen from the fields, but I can’t shake the sense that I’m simply still asleep. Art Alexakis of Everclear once sang “it’s like that dream where it feels like home but it don’t look right“. Yeah. That’s the feeling.

After an initial flurry of activity when I first arrived earlier in the month, it’s calmed down a bit. So I find myself driving around a lot, with a handful of CDs that I found in an old storage box. Mostly, I drive in the dark, at night. Old music. Old city. Old memories. And now I’m homesick. In my own hometown.

I’ll likely be back in Seoul soon enough. When the papers sort themselves out, I’ll find myself crawling back into another tin can and being shuttled once again to the other side of the Earth. Back, strangely enough, to a place that now feels more like home.

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