"When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."  ~Victor Frankl
Moving to South Korea was a cultural shock. We prepared for it as best as possible, reading books and talking to people who had lived there, even trying out some of the food before going. Nothing could have prepared us for how different it was from America. The minute we got off the plane it smelled different. The traffic was overwhelming, the sounds and speeds of other cars and confusing road signs kept flashing by. It felt like I had dropped into a bad dream.
I was excited to move to South Korea. I'm a child of immigrants and the thought of new lands to explore and learn from really interests me. My parents gave me the gift of travel from a very early age. I'm very used to flying and passports and different languages. We travelled to Europe and Central America and to the Islands. In Asia, there was a whole new experience, starting with the fact that we didn't look like everyone else. With features that are so different, you stand out in even the largest crowd. I remember being stared at everywhere and feeling like there was no place to go to just fit in.
 Before our things arrived in Seoul, we were living in our quarters with temporary furniture and only the stuff that we brought on the plane. One night, the need for something familiar was so overwhelming that we flagged a taxi down and asked him to take us to one the American chain restaurants across the Haan river. He looked at us like we were crazy and somehow explained that in that very area where we wanted to go there was an International Soccer game being played. Traffic would be horrible. The look on my face must have been so distressed because he took us anyway. What was just over a mile took us 20 minutes because of traffic. As we were waiting, the taxi driver tried to explain the soccer scenario and listen to the radio at the same time. The South Korean team was playing the United Arab Emerates and soccer was a beloved sport in South Korea.
When we arrived at the Outback Steak House all of the televisions were tuned in to the game. Everyone in the restaurant who was Korean was intent on watching every play. As the game went on the energy in the restaurant increased. People were talking to and yelling at the televisions, just like we do here in America, only in their native language Hangul. We started watching along, learning the color of the jerseys and some of the more prominent players names. The love the people had for their team and the hope that they would win was a feeling I understood. I cheered on my High School team, my college team and my country's team. I was starting to feel a connection with the culture that had recently brought so much change into my life. If they were this passionate about their team, then I was sure that I could fit in.
At the end of the game, with only minutes to spare, South Korea scored a winnning goal. The restaurant erupted in absolute chaos and joy. There was celebration and singing and it all unfolded around us in our little booth. Vic and I looked at eachother and I started to cry. I cried for so many reasons. I was happy to see my new host country win a game that was obviously so important to them. I was crying because of the culmination of all of the change that had happened in such a short time. I cried because I missed America. Mostly, I cried because the scene that had just played out was so much like something we would have experienced at home and still so different. It was the beginning of a change in me. That win, that celebration and that moment was the beginning of me becoming a fan of my new host country.