matcha latte on a rainy night

It’s been a while… but honestly, these past few weeks have been a complete whirlwind. And by now, you’ve probably guessed it. I’m sitting in a café in the neighborhood I now call home in Seoul, typing away my thoughts.

Once I got back from Korea in October, reality hit fast. Moving reality. I’m talking packing boxes, recycling, giving furniture away, moving things to my parents’ place. All of it. Those days were hectic, but thankfully both of my brothers stepped in to help. And let me tell you, three pairs of hands really do make a difference. Up until the very last minute, I was worried I wouldn’t manage to get rid of some of my furniture. But then, almost by coincidence, I got in touch with a guy through Facebook who needed pretty much everything. Money was tight for him, and he was incredibly grateful. For me, it was an easy decision. I didn’t need those things anymore. Why throw them away when someone else could actually use them?

November flew by. I was busy wrapping up projects at work, coordinating handovers, making sure all my clients and open tasks were taken care of. On top of that, I temporarily moved back in with my parents and brothers which definitely felt like a strange in-between phase.

I won’t lie: saying goodbye to the people I love most was hard. I think it really hit me for the first time when I went to see one of my closest friends. Funny enough, it was also the first time I got to meet her second child. He was only born in October. I love spending time with her and her little family. Even if we just stay at home, drink coffee, entertain the kids, and talk about life. When I left that day and sat in my car, the tears came. A lot of them. She’s one of the most important people in my life, and even though we didn’t see each other every week back in Switzerland, we were always close. We still are. We message weekly, she sends me updates and photos of her family, and I send her pictures of my new life here in Seoul.

One of the hardest goodbyes was with my best friend. We spent the whole day together. Cinema, food, matcha, everything. And then we sat on the train, just looking at each other, both trying not to cry like in one of those dramatic breakup scenes. We held it together… at least until later. We still spam each other with reels and messages, and when I wake up, it almost feels like nothing has changed. Except that now, I can’t just hop on a train to see her. Sometimes I catch myself thinking, “She would love this,” or “That place would be so her.” The best example? When I randomly found tangerine jellies. Of course I sent her a picture. You get the idea. It’s not easy, but we’re managing.

When D-Day finally arrived, my family came to the airport to say goodbye properly. As a very typical Swiss person, I was way too early, so we grabbed coffee. After a while, another friend joined us. She had just moved closer to the airport and didn’t even hesitate to come by. One by one, everyone left, and it became harder and harder not to cry. In the end, it was just my sister, my friend, and me. When my sister said goodbye, the tears finally came. My friend insisted on walking me all the way to security. Standing in front of the boarding pass scanners, it hit us both: this was goodbye. For a while. And yes, we both cried. She stayed until I passed through the gates.

Leaving my people behind wasn’t easy. But Seoul welcomed me with so much warmth. I’ve already made new friends, connecting with people was easier than I expected, and I’m genuinely enjoying my time here. I guess I just needed a moment to arrive. To settle, to breathe, and to really let it sink in that I now live in Korea.

I’ll try to keep you updated more regularly from here on out.