So to catch everyone up…in case you’re just now joining…I was sharing that I tend to be a little biased when I attend events – any events, big or small.

Just as a seamstress can spot a crooked hem, a police officer can point out security gaps, I see the background details of event management.

Don’t get me wrong, I was no big wig during my time then…just another grunt in the planning & executing background. But I got to watch & over the course of 2 years I learned a lot.

So as excited as I was to attend Freedom Fest this year (we missed the majority of it last year), I tried to adjust my expectations. But I couldn’t help it…I was excited.

The information put out by the base said that the Korean Ministry of National Defense Philharmonic Orchestra… (put that on a business card)…would be playing Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture – the quintessential American 4th of July experience.

Music…fireworks…food…it was gonna be great. A chance to finally feel…if even for just a moment…American again.

[sigh]

I’ve come to learn that the longer & longer you live overseas, the less & less you feel like an American. It can’t be helped. You’re living in a foreign country submerssed in a completely foreign culture.

You’re just so removed from everything familiar that you find yourself clinging to any chance to feel American again. And it’s normal. So for all you wives heading this way, just be prepared & know that you’re not alone.

But Tchaikovsky & fireworks!?!…It couldn’t get any better.

True…the program also included traditional Korean music & performances…but still.

I crossed my fingers that the orchestra had coordinated with the base to have cannon fire in the background to really help sell the overture, but I didn’t hold my breath. I figured that might be expecting too much.

I imagined closing my eyes when the music & fireworks were going full blast just so that I could picture myself at home. Transported by the sound of it all.

And I was going to set every detail, every sound, every boom to memory. It was going to sustain me when the homesickness cycle kicked in again.

That was the plan.

That was not, however, how it worked out.

My old boss had a saying…

‘THERE WILL BE WEATHER.’

It was his way of letting us know to expect things to turn on a dime should the skies open up, the heat melt everyone into puddles or high winds knock all our hard work down.

And in July…in Korea…weather means monsoon season…

Sticky, humid, melting, monsoon season.