By Bill Capoun
Recently Seoul saw the tragic death at age 26 of Bill Kapoun, an American who was working here as a teacher when a fire took his apartment. Bill was someone who cared deeply about people and life. He also liked writing and his sister Laura gave us the following piece of writing, which he wrote not long before he died. She prefaced it by saying for its posthumous publication, ``My brother was an amazing individual. I think the world of him. Only he could express these thoughts so clearly, so beautifully. I hope that they will lift your spirits and inspire you to truly live.'' This is the first installment of a two-part series. ― ED.
In retrospect, we remember, we give credence to our waiting, proof that living life is possible, but if we are truthful to ourselves, we remember, most of those past days were either days we had wished had gone sooner at the time, or were just the beginning of the list of days hoping.
People say that once you lose hope, everything is gone. I'm not sure you can lose hope, as a human. Maybe my relatively stable and happy white working class upbringing makes me naive but I believe hope is a fundamental aspect of humanity; perhaps to lose hope, is to lose ones humanity.
But when I walk down the street, and I see a gypsy with her child, or a kid jingling a McDonalds cup with a few coins in it, I have to think, the thought running through their heads is the same thought as in mine, it's the same as in the beautiful blonde across the street, and the fat rich business man rushing to a thirty dollar business lunch, where decisions will be made that make the lives of many of those poor people I've just passed even more precarious than they already are. We are all thinking, why has the universe conspired against me? When am I gonna get my break? Oh well, there's always tomorrow?
It wasn't until I started traveling that I realized that not only does life not have to be that way; it isn't meant to be that way. Mankind evolved two million years ago, society is only a few thousand years old, and the things that once gave us solace ― clear skies the thrill of achievement and a tight-knit family ― have given way to cubicles, anti-depressants and participation awards. We live our lives through those of people that we can supposedly relate to on reality television, through those who we can't relate with in the tabloids, and through those that aren't even real on our computers. Our ambition is crushed by a system that rewards and enforces mediocrity.
The natural world we spent most of existence alongside, already physically distant becomes emotionally even further when we don't celebrate and enjoy it. We lose sight of the beauty of diversity and adventure; we become timid and weak in a world that ensures that as long as we don't try too hard to attain greatness; we can be assured that we also won't hit rock bottom.
The trials, tribulations and rewards of travel; meeting interesting people with foreign and enlightening viewpoints, being put in situations that seem incapable of getting worse, seeing beautiful things made by people, beautiful people, and the beauty of nature provide me with the safety net that most people find only by never reaching further than they feel safe doing.
I have become a better person by seeing the world; there is much more that I hope to see and experience, but above all, I hope that by sharing my experiences, others will feel compelled to push themselves; and be reborn into a world without limits, where everything is possible and the pursuit of the new and beautiful takes the place of security and seclusion.
My fascination with Europe began in 1985 when I was three years old and my family was sent to Frankfurt Germany, a time when America's military presence in Germany was still enormous. Having already spent four years in a small town in southern Germany called Bad Aibling my mother refused to allow this opportunity to pass by and took me out of school every Wednesday so that we could go to a castle, a zoo, a fair or whatever other cultural event was going on at the time.
I don't necessarily remember many of the specific places we went or things we did but those years planted a seed deep within me that continues to flourish and so when people ask me what my family thinks of my wandering I tell them that my mother is only reaping what she sowed.
On its most superficial level traveling allows us to see and discover new and beautiful things. On a slightly deeper level it allows us to know more about our neighbors in the rest of the world, which is one of the things America needs the most right now, but at its deepest level the greatest gift of traveling is the personal journey that allows us to see our own likes and dislikes, passions and perversions, history and future, under a completely different light.
Only then can we be truly satisfied, for truly, many will shed a tear when we pass from this world, but besides our nearest loved ones, our days on this earth are quickly forgotten.
Few will remember us a year later. The things we do, the attainment of the goals we spend so much time striving for, all mean little beyond the here and now.
That is why, when I die, all I hope people to say of me is he lived life. The good, the bad, he took it all in, and relished it. Yes, he lived life for life. Which is how we should all live our lives, never letting a precious moment slip by.
A fundraiser in memory of Bill to start a fund for burn victims in Korea, whether Korean or foreign, will be held Saturday night at the Wolfhound, Itaewon. The goal is to try to reach the 11.5 million won still outstanding. A voluntary 10,000 won donation can be given at the door and 10% of sales will go to towards the fund. For enquiries contact Warren Franklin at warren.franklin@gmail.com