Young-Kyung #2

Technology’s contribution to my relationships and communication with other people in different places is a fickle thing. Grandparents, family, friends of my parents - when I’m Skyping or calling them on the phone, they never seem to change although it’s been years or weeks since experiencing them because I don’t genuinely know who they are. That makes communicating with them something you try to anticipate and go along with, like steering a boat down a calm river you’ve visited a couple times. It’s a vaguely familiar, unwieldy but expected scene; the boat makes awkward turns sometimes, but you’re always satisfied when you step onto land because you had a new experience like anticipated, and some swell photos as well. You can get to know people who are halfway across the world.

It’s different when you’re talking to an old friend. You’re navigating the mountain path without a map. Of course you don’t need a map - you’ve been here many times before, you know the shortcut. You’re sure that there is a shallow ravine with water to drink right ahead of you, and you’ll follow that up to the top, no problem. The trees thin and the slope is definitely increasing, but suddenly you can’t go up anymore because there’s no path anymore, just an impassable rocky cliff. “Why? What’s happening? Is something wrong with me? How do I continue?” And then, in a shaky voice: “I’m lost.”

It's a really, really, really selfish thing, but I hate that. I love being able to communicate with these old friends, but it’s a strange kind of jealous wistfulness that I experience when watching them change and grow without me over something as impersonal as the internet. It doesn’t change what the relationships would have been without technology, but it has an effect on me nevertheless. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that absence is even more prominent with technology.

Don’t get me wrong: I still love this time period and I wouldn’t change it. The above situation is uncommon. If I had been born 20 years ago, my life would have been different: I would likely still be in Korea, speaking Korean, completely Korean. I would be a different person altogether. I like being able to fly on planes, take pictures, communicate with people I know. I have one best friend that I haven’t seen in person in years - thanks to technology, I get to talk to her all the time. I like being able to text instead of calling every time I need to communicate. Although it takes away a giant part of actually exchanging words face to face, it makes it easier to get together to hang out for real.