Last year one day in summer I received a short message from a long-time tango friend, who asked me if I wanted to join him for a tango festival in Korea in February 2025. I had been to Seoul two times already and had loved dancing there. This festival was going to be in a historical city called Gyeoungju, two hours outside of Seoul. Without thinking much I said yes.

I planned it in such a way that I would make a longer trip out of it also to include short visits to Taipei and Tokio. All of these cities are only two and a half hours of flight away from each other and I had seen none. Ultimately, I planned for two weeks including four days in Taipei and Tokio each, a few days in Seoul as the hub and 4 days in Geyoungju for the festival. I arranged my flight tickets as well as my hotels and then forgot about it all as it was still too far away at that time.

When the end of 2024 started approaching though and the trip started to become more present in my mind, I started feeling slightly uneasy about it. I couldn’t explain why exactly except for two concrete reasons I could see. Firstly, I had just come back from a long Christmas vacation in Buenos Aires and leaving work so quickly yet again felt like being irresponsible towards my team. Even though I know that they wouldn’t think that way, I felt guilty. Secondly, my ex-partner was going to be at the event and we had not seen each other for almost two years. I wasn’t sure how we were going to feel and be with each other at this remote corner of the world.

All these thoughts and feelings didn’t matter in the end, as I was already set up and was not going to cancel anything. I trusted the Universe telling myself that the invitation came for a reason and this would be my opportunity to learn and grow in some way that I cannot foresee now. I just had to trust.

It has been a week now that I came back and my trip has been a milestone in my life.

I went through another transformation in Asia gaining new insights to who I am. I know now for certain that I was invited to this inner journey.

Everything started with my arrival in Taipei as the first stop of my trip. For reasons I cannot explain I felt a special energy there which connected me with myself at a deeper level. I felt it the moment I opened my eyes in my hotel bed next morning. Some energy that touched my emotions, brought me serenity and peace. It was a wonderful, classical hotel that I stayed at with a small private meditation room for the guests, which I used every morning.

That mediation room showed me that I have been grieving over the lost ballerina that I am. I was not aware of the depth of this grief until then. When I had to give up my childhood dream of becoming a ballerina and quit the state conservatorium that I attended, I was sad. I remember that. I had missed everything about the ballerina. The clothes, the music, the body movements. Then school life and family problems took over and I couldn’t think more about it. Taipei brought this deeply buried grief back to my consciousness and held space for me to grieve for it. I spent many tears over the vision of a dancing ballerina on the stage, who radiated beauty and kindness to the hearts of the audience from where she was. Taipei let me grieve and set me free.

Next stop after Taipei was Geyoungju in Korea, which was the festival place. On my way there I was in a mixed emotional state as I had felt so much lighter and freer than in a long time, yet I was also tensing up because of the prospect of seeing my ex-partner. The moment I arrived in Gyeongju in my room at the festival location though, a serene and peaceful energy wrapped me up again like a soft cushion. The room was spacious, quiet and had beautiful light coming through its Korean style windows. It was designed as a historical, authentic Korean house, which gave the feeling of having a magical power to dissolve any problems you may bring to her. The moment I entered my room, I felt a sense of deep relief knowing I was protected. I cannot explain why and how.

That room has become my second temple for mediations; I almost never wanted to leave her. She continued holding space for my ballerina, while she additionally brought me soft and compassionate messages from my family, who flustered in my ears that I should keep dancing, spreading joy and love. My emotions found their place in my body through the tears, while she moved as freely and gracefully as she has never done in my life. Every cell and tissue told a story, which visibly touched and moved others, and I received the same from them. I have had some of the most beautiful communications of my life in Gyeongju without using words.  

The nature around the city is also remarkably peaceful especially at this cold but sunny winter time of the year. It has a raw, untamed beauty with only a few people residing there. I never saw any tourists in the area the whole time except for the four of us who attended the festival. It is a place where I felt I belonged, a strange sense of being at home.

In one of my meditations in Gyeoungju a long forgotten, deeply buried memory suddenly came back to sunshine. When I was a small child, maybe three or four, my father had a photographer friend of him take several portrait pictures of me in black and white. He particularly liked one them and kept saying “My sweet, little Korean girl” as he looked at it. Off all the Asian countries, I don’t know why he had chosen Korea. He must have read about the country, its history and he must have seen pictures of Korean girls; he was an extremely curious and well-read man, there was almost nothing he did not know. Suddenly, his voice and his words flashed in my mind and I almost heard him saying “Dance my sweet, little, Korean girl”. As tears flew through my eyes, I felt a soft sense of relief and so much freedom.

My ex-partner didn’t come. Unfortunately, his mother fell very sick last minute and he had to fly to Istanbul urgently, cancelling everything. He reached out to me to tell this, which made me feel very sad for him, and at the same time grateful for his act of reaching out. I also recognized that by that time I had felt so free that I was not tense anymore when I thought of the scene of us seeing each other again after a long time.

I closed the festival with a full heart, gratefulness and joy to go back to Seoul for one night to continue to Tokio from there as next.

It took me the entire day to get to my hotel in Tokio from Seoul due to the long distances of both airports from the city as well as the long lines of passport and security controls. When I got on the metro in Tokio to reach my hotel, I got a bit confused about the stops and the station changes, so I decided ask a youngish, Asian girl, who was standing in the metro line with me. I assumed her as Japanese. She was very friendly and immediately tried to help me. After we exchanged a few sentences in English, something truly unexpected happened. She started speaking Turkish to me. I was so perplexed that I truly amused her. I must have been looking at her as if she were a miracle on earth. She went on to explain to me that she was from Mongolia, however she had studied two years in Turkey while learning the language. Afterwards, she decided to come to Japan for work, which is where she ultimately stayed. We kept on chatting with each other until she had to get off at her stop. She is a memory that still puts a smile on my face.

Tokio’s energy was not for me. I cannot explain this either. I felt it again the next morning when I opened my eyes in the hotel room, which intensified as I went out to explore the city. Too many people, too many tourists, too many expats and too little space. Goodness, too little space. I felt I couldn’t breathe and I know that I am doing terrible injustice to Tokio. In hindsight, I should have combined my visit to include other cities as Kyoto and Osaka, which are less dense and have more nature in and around them. Therefore, Japan, I apologize from you, please do not be upset with me.

I started missing Korea, while still aiming to make the best of my remaining three days there. I found incredible kindness and appreciation for beauty especially when it came to food. Even in the simplest neighborhood eateries, they made a remarkable effort to make the food they serve look like a painting. Everything was carefully arranged, with looks that sparked joy. I also found the serenity I craved for in a zen garden that I discovered as well as in an onsen spa outside of the city. I left Tokio with beautiful memories of these experiences and two dance evenings in the company of new Japanese friends. As I got off the plane in Seoul, I had the familiar feeling of coming home and relief as a result of it.

I realize that the two weeks in Asia have actually been an inner journey.  A journey to my forgotten memories and chained emotions, which released themselves bit by bit, day by day. In exotic Asia, where the scripts and sounds made no sense, hence they did not let me turn outward, I turned inward. I am so grateful that my friend asked me last year to join the festival with him. It was unexpected. I now know that it was the Universe reaching out to me, gently inviting me to start the next part of my transformation.

Now I know that everything that has happened in my life was exactly the way it had to happen. Losses and gains, people who have arrived and left, dreams that have unfolded and not. Everything has been just right. If I had become a ballerina, I would not be as free as I am today, not physically and not financially. I would have faced the risk of injury and with that the end of my career every single day. Neither would I have had the financial means that my current career graciously provides me so that I can have all these beautiful experiences in the world.

In Korea, where I felt so deeply at home, I had the peak of my unburdened self-expression and consequently most beautiful dances I have ever had in my life. No traces of control nor anxiety. How much I have been yearning and praying for this for so many years. I was there sharing everything I felt in my heart through my body and inviting others to do the same. Every- body has a story to tell in their unique way. I felt their fears, courage, joy, ecstasy, sadness, intimidation and vulnerability; and I offered them a soft, welcoming piece of my heart. They felt it.

I know that I came to this world to spread beauty and kindness through my writing and dancing. With words and without. I am here to share the love and gratefulness I feel in my heart for how beautiful life is; and hopefully to touch you so that you can see the same. Dream, dance, discover. You are alive.