What It’s Like to Look for Love Halfway Around the World
by Janae Torres
Before taking the leap across time and space, I grew my sophomore year in ways I never predicted. Despite my entire school career being translated into screens that could fit in my hand, I still managed to socialize and be studious. Along with Zoom classes and meetings, I found myself dating someone so put together, a person who had never been broken. And despite having that crystal clear lens, someone still chose me, a person that seemed always healing in comparison. It was only a few months together, but we envisioned a forever, something I can only remember was real from the notes I took, writing down their mumbled sleepy sirens like they were my own vivid dreams.
But before the next semester could start, that forever became finite and I was let go to find better.
Now single and just weeks away from South Korea, I found stability in staying occupied with all of the little things that would never prepare me for the year ahead. With quarantine and my dorm set, everything else would come when it did and I had no control beyond that. So when I finally landed in a foreign country, I decided to do the one activity today that transcends all borders: go on the Internet.
In two weeks, I built a reputation in the various group chats and became a seemingly endless source of entertainment and knowledge. Soon came the freshness of a semester and school where we all were trying to make friends at every corner, meeting anyone and everyone. Within the first month out of quarantine alone, I cannot count the number of times I heard, “Oh, so you’re her.” I felt famous in my own right with these strangers recognizing me left and right, just based on the messages tied to a name and face, both of which welcomed chats.
As silly a photo as I thought I had, I soon caught the attention of wannabe suitors. Direct messages poured in and I felt like the life of the party. Every other student group and there was a new one trying to make private conversation. International chats led to international boys and long before I knew it, making connections halfway around the world was no different than back home. The only difference is that here, I was a fresh face.
I never got my K-drama moment. There never was a cafe meet-cute or a dashing subway stranger to sweep me off my feet. Other girls would recount their horror stories and it would make you rethink if you wanted to try dating at all. With no connections to Korea or the language, I was perpetually a foreigner and clearly separated in a “me vs. them” mentality. Gangnam streets or Tinder swipes, there seemed too many risks at finding something genuine if I bothered to try. I would always be a brown foreigner, either for them to taste something new for the night or to practice elementary English. The other side of the coin offered clueless military men that would roam around for their one night out for the week, before going back to base to continue being aggressively American.
Still, I watched people get their “prince charmings” and live out every romantic holiday like a Hallmark movie. They were embracing true cultural exchange: innocent hand-holding, matching outfits, public snuggling. Behind every photo was a picture-perfect moment displayed for the world to see. There was never an end to Korean-style PDA. Passed by were the couple of Christmas celebrations and then a freezing New Year, making the coldest of times could seem even colder without the right people around.
One by one, my friends left, and without making a way back home, I too moved on. Leaving behind one last buddy of my own in South Korea, I hopped on a plane to Italy. Now closer in cultural comfort, I’ve settled into a school so small that the entire student body is smaller than the size of my hometown graduating class. Any group chats have been made of my own initiative and it’s rare to hit double digits of members. I'm not one to make bad blood but there are some faces that I’ve accepted that I’ll never be able to avoid when at school so I won't be starting now.
More than half of the student population are studying abroad like me. I recounted to a friend that they were probably choosing "Italy with their friends!!!” because it’s Junior year, and it's spring so they all already know each other and don't want to branch out.” Maybe it’s that I don't know any of the AU kids, or that I'm not cool enough for them, or whatever. And honestly, I can never tell if it's because I seem too stuck up or genuinely because I'm brown and not like them.
And so, my slate is clean once more and I have to start this exhausting journey all over again. Socialize after being socialized to a completely different culture. New people to love and lose. I don't understand how these "digital nomads" with their "financial freedom" give the impression that they do this non-stop. I'm just assuming they have no friends or constantly live like it's home.
Yet, despite another time zone cha-cha, I see déjà-vu. It’s pretty hard to dip into dating apps if you want to star in your own romance telenovela. Some talking even to find a few friends. Maybe the European cutie you’ve had your eyes on will walk your way or swipe right. It may be Italy, but it's your pick of the Union. Just catch a flight away if you want to narrow the lineup. But especially not being white myself, whoever knows if intentions are as simple and straightforward as they seem. I might just be the exotic snack they’ve been wanting to try. In all cases, though, being American isn’t as much of a deal-breaker as I originally thought it would turn out to be. Maybe I’m just on the inside looking out, but I always saw that label as unappealing, knowing how we must look on the world stage. You can, in fact, be attractive and American. Who knew!
But forget race and nationality when I tell you about the clubs and bars, and the “swipe rights” and DMs. Because it sounds like you're right at home. Because it could describe anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere.
Because there is no translation needed between the K-pop and the opera or between the noraebangs and the gelateria, and because there are no borders beyond the best friends you experience each moment with.
Because people are desperate to be loved in some sense. It's only human. Even importing love comes at the cost of exporting yourself.