Each time I go out for field research, I forget how grueling it can be. There are never any easy shortcuts, and there are never, ever, any guarantees. It is a gamble, and I think the thrill of the unknown – the pinnacle of catching the most elusive information data is what drives those of us in this field. I have met others who bank on the safer sides in research studies and the expressions I have seen are a wide range from quizzical “what the hell…” to a ringing affirmative “that’s crazy”.
There are long drives, long flights, long lines, even longer lonely nights, worn out shoes, more dinners from convenience stores that can be counted, and wearied spirits to be able to do good field research. It’s the proverbial elusive unicorn that inspires motivation. But when you catch the unicorn, the pain is forgotten.
The thrill is in the hunt – knowing in your gut the data is there, but reliant on utilizing your multiple skills to unearth. It is communication at its finest, knowing which words and phrases connect, being able to read people, being able to anticipate reactions and answers, and analyze constantly as you proceed through the active research.
It was mostly the same expressions I received when I announced I was leaving to do field research in South Korea, without any fluency, without any contacts to speak of, and without a background in any Korean factions of academia. It was knowing that everything I had read, everything I had seen, everyone I had asked, led me to this. I just knew, just as I did when I embarked on my doctoral research, and fortunately was able to articulate it in a proposal. I KNEW. I had seen it, just as with my dissertation, had faith I could bring it forth, and in the midst of some very big names in academia telling me “this is impossible”, I produced the said “impossible”.
This journey, began in the same way. It didn’t matter whom I knew, how well I had done in the U.S., or what had transpired professionally. It began with an ‘I know’ that didn’t make sense to others, but I was seeing cultural data patterns that were impossible to ignore and a culture that offered what nothing else has. A tie, a thread of binding and an understanding that has been impossible to locate – until now.
I knew when I started, even though it seemed irrational and uninviting to travel to a foreign land where I knew no one and could not access any of my traditions, my family, or anything comforting.
And yet, I am lonely in this field. When I have questions, I must wait for my friends and colleagues who are two or three time zones away to finish projects and have a few minutes to spare. We all juggle the professional game, and everyone understands the process of “waiting” for answers or simple camaraderie. It’s a journey that is definitely worth it, but there have been multiple conversations within the past year, both in and outside of academia, about how I am the only woman doing TEK at this level, and arguably the only one in the state of Oregon.
For me those trade-offs are worth it, not having a colleague whom I can pop in their office and “talk shop” with at any time, not having a backup person to rely or convene with on new research, or politics surrounding the discipline. It’s a trade-off to get to do what you love, and are really good at it, and yet be isolated.
So when this journey initiated, I didn’t think it was a reality. When the email arrived that the incredible Dr. Sun-Kee Hong was willing to work with me, and then later when the Korea Foundation accepted my proposal, I knew, just as I had known before.
I am merely weeks into this fabulous journey, and yet a few days ago, with the help of Dr. Hongs’s incredible skill, I found myself in the midst of a situation that seemed surreal, and was definitely life changing. The day seemed ordinary; we had arrived and were talking to people, when in a matter of minutes, were on a boat headed out to sea. Camera in hand, I was lost in the flurry of the beautiful Korean language that surrounded me, but as the boat came to a stop, the Mermaids emerged.
One by one, Haenyeo appeared out of the sea and continued working bringing in their haul despite the near-constant clicking of camera shutters. I somehow managed to breathe, as I was in the middle of magic. I had traveled half way around the world to be witness to a subculture that is breathtakingly magnificent, and spiritually tied to every strand of who I am culturally. I was gifted with raw abalone,It is nearly impossible to describe being honored in a way that is irreplaceable, and being able to be around the women who gather the seafoods in one of the most dangerous professions in the world.
I am grateful beyond words, there are not enough deep bows that I can offer, nor any giftings that can show the most heartfelt, deepest respect and honor for this experience. And yet, there is connection, by way of the elusive captured unicorn. 
