A story of my first typhoon

After witnessing my first typhoon I think I can say with certainty that it is definitely something that seems much more significant in real life than through a screen of a TV or the page of a book. We see images of nature’s fury and the aftermath of her atmospheric induced rage but so often do we give it only a mere passing thought. Sometimes slightly more but nothing that ever affects us, makes us reconsider things or gain a new respect for nature’s tendency to flip the fuck out and rage until there’s nothing left. We experience none of these things until they happen to us, until the “that’s never going to happen to me” happens.

To be perfectly fair this is not the first typhoon I had experienced in Korea. Only a few weeks before had I bared witness to a passing typhoon in my small town of Gimcheon. The brunt of the storm was much further along the coast. My town only witnessed a few prolonged rain showers and the inconvenience of having to pull out an umbrella when stepping outdoors.

The second one to hit was a big one. While we were spared the harsh wind and ocean waves crashing down on us, we were hit with a flurry of rain and water for nearly two straight days. Heavy rain is nothing new in Korea but its after effects were where the major concern came in and almost were the cause of my home becoming much wetter than I would have preferred.

It was still raining hard once I made my way to school. It was still early and getting there and back was not an issue when you had the modern ease of public transportation. As the morning went on, the rain continued to fall harder. I offhandly asked one of the students if they would be going home early. He replied no, stating that the school rarely, if ever let the students go home.

About an hour until the afternoon bell, I noticed students screaming and running outside the teacher’s room. Curious as to why the students were making more noise than usual I peaked outside and like Ebenezer Scrooge asking a young boy what day it is, my students enthusiastically replied back to me that it was announced that the students could go home early.

It was then that I knew that something was amiss in the world of my school. Not only did my principal never allow students to leave early, but today was a testing day as well. It would have to be a pretty serious reason to let them leave so soon. To the students, they felt that they had just won a war against authority. I felt ever more suspicious that the typhoon was going to be a little bigger than a few raindrops.

Even if students are allowed to leave early or are excused from coming to school, teachers still have to come in and sit in the office. The reasons as to why are beyond me, but as the last students left I took my place at my desk and began to work on my computer, listening to music, draining out the world and the rain around me.

The day went on for another hour, my coffee drained itself from my cup and as I finally removed the noise blockers to the outside world I, I noticed that groups of teachers were running around and nervously talking to one another. A few were on their phone and others were glued to their computer screens, staring at the latest weather reports.

As the room became more chaotic, one of my co teachers came in from outside, looking as if the weather had not only rained on him but engaged in a fist fight as well. His dress shirt was soaked, with his tie glued to his chest from heavy rainfall. His pants legs were pulled up to his calves and the back of his feet were bloody and scratched.

“Kyle, we need to go home now. We cannot stay here anymore,” he told me in a rushed tone as he began to run around the room alerting the remaining teachers there.

Volunteer workers frantically working to block the incoming flood water. 

I looked outside my window and saw that the rain had picked up the pace significantly, Not only was the rain falling down at a furious rate, but the school was beginning to attract rainwater as the hallways and steps began to disappear from sight.

A group of teachers that lived near my area were preparing to walk home together. The bridge we usually crossed was too dangerous to drive over by car. I questioned the logic of a car being unsafe but walking being acceptable but quickly put it aside as the teachers packed their bags, rolled up their pants and took off their shoes. We were heading out into the typhoon and we were going to go home.

Walking out of the school was sense shocking experience as the rain pelted us from above, its wet drops feeling more like tiny pellets rather than the gentle rainfall that people liked to romanticize. The normally bare streets overflowed with water pouring out of the sewer drains and down from the hill. The simple act of walking was not more challenging due to the fast running water.

Teachers stayed in a group as we passed out tunnel entrance to the school. Where there once was a dip in the road now stood a pool of water that was rapidly becoming fuller. No car would ever have a chance of making it through. The school was now effectively cut off from the rest of the world. A wish that students often made about the school, but never intended they would actually see.

The sewers began overflowing, bringing in even more water. 

As we walked down the street, we saw people standing in doorways and cars pulling over to the side of road. As fast and as thick as the water fell, it was becoming too difficult to see a few feet in front of you, let alone ahead of the road. My teachers continued to walk on, the wind was picking up and the was now blowing directly on us, slowly trying to push us back to the school, trying with all of its will to prevent us from heading back to our dry homes. This had just become a man vs. nature situation. I was wet, tired and not wanting to turn back. It was too late and I was too far. I was going home.

After walking along the soaked streets I saw a line of cars slowly turning around in the middle of the road and people walking from both sides. We had reached the bridge over the river, one of the few ways to get back to the other parts of Gimcehon.

Police stood on the bridge directing traffic and guiding people across. As we came closer, he suddenly motioned to us and began frantically shouting at us to hurry. I began to run across the bridge with some teachers in front and behind. Like a horror movie, I didn’t have time to make sure everyone was across and only a few occasionally head peaks back confirmed that the other teachers were keeping pace and not lost to the raging river below.

The river below us was usually a river in name only. Barely a trickle of water was usually seen below and the entire expanse could easily be walked across with no effort.

Today was different as the waters raged below us and splashed up onto the bridge. Once we made it to the other side I was finally able to take a good look at the river below and see for myself its transformation from David-esque stream to a now Goliath sized monstrosity of flowing water.

The rapidly rising water. Notice the height of the sign. 

The water was rushing so fast overflowing so rabidly that the road below was overtaken by it and was shut down completely. The bridge we were on was usually a 4.5 M deep tunnel. The tunnel was now no longer visible, only the remnants of a streetsign and the occasional tree branch floated by.

I walked back to my apartment, dropped off my wet belongings and immediately headed back outside to witness the damage of the river. I only had to walk a few feet to see a disaster movie scene in front of me.

Sewers in the middle of the street shot forth water like a dirty water fountain. Stores alongside the road had their owners desperately try to ward off the invading water with makeshift sand bags and brooms. People wandered in the street some volunteering to stack sandbags and keep the flowing water away from more buildings for a few minutes longer. Men in ponchos barked orders as young men shoveled sand into bags. Off in the distance the sounds of sirens sounded in the air as people close to the bridge began to quickly move away. The water continued to rise and the mighty raging river was touching the bottom of the train tracks. It was becoming distressingly obvious that only a few more feet of rain would end up completely coming over the bridge and flooding the buildings below. My home and many others were only a few feet from water oblivion.

I stood watching for a few more minutes, morbidly curios at the impending doom that so many were desperately trying to hold back. The emotions running through me bordered on excitement, being so close to danger and damage and yet dreading what the river could bring in only a few more minutes of rainfall. While it was a far cry from true danger, the feeling itself was exhilarating. I felt like all my senses were at their maximum potential, that at any minute, I could jump into the river and swim my way to safety. These were crazy thoughts of someone intoxicated by the chaos happening around him and the frightening realization of their actions.

I left the riverside and went back to my home. As I went inside I noticed that the rain was beginning to die down and the distinctive splats on my windows were beginning to become quieter.

I spent the rest of my night inside, glued to a TV with a bowl of ramen in hand. Not knowing nor no longer caring about what was happening outside.

When I awoke the next morning I was greeted to the familiar sounds of birds and people talking. As I turned over, I noticed that the sun was shining through and the clouds were back to their cotton white look.

The storm had passed. A new day was here. 

Being Socially Lazy: Why I can't live large on the weekdays

It’s easy to make friends in Korea. No really, it is. Living in Korea has this wonderful ability to meet many other people young and old, foreigner and Korean all over the country. I’ve only been here six months and in that short amount of time, I feel like I’ve been able to meet a large variety of people from all walks of life and all different backgrounds. Whether I talked to them for only a few moments or a few months, being able to meet new people has been an incredible experience.

As much as I enjoy meeting new people, and new faces I don’t always like social interaction. Sound strange? In many ways it is. Enjoying the company of people and then again… not, it’s quite the hedgehog’s dilemma of having people become close to you, only to push them away.

It’s a problem that I have always been aware of but always secretly figured would leave or die out as I grew older, that I would one day have a greater appreciation of people and their presence and be willing to spend more time around them. This has become true to some extent, as mentioned above I do love meeting up and spending time with people, but one thing I do enjoy even more is my private time.

After a day work, the one thing I enjoy the most is being alone. As weird and as brooding as that sounds believe me when I say it’s most certainly not. It’s not an attempt to be a longer or separate from society, but rather a time for reflection and a way to recharge after the day.

In a typical day there is a lot that goes through my mind that I either want to sort out or try and forget about before having to repeat the process the next day. Sometimes I have extra work to do after my normal job, requiring me to spend the time and energy usually reserved for resting and reflecting on another task. As lazy as it sounds, sometimes a day teaching in an all boy high school can leave you physically and mentally exhausted. There are usually two things that sound appealing to me at the end of a work day. Those things are dinner and sleep.

I have gone out on the weekdays before whether it was for a planned gathering or meeting. I had no problems doing this, I enjoyed it greatly, remember the liking people thing I mentioned before? Still the same here.  However the times that I would actually do this were sparingly, each time being an event and not a daily occurrence. It’s like eating candy. If you eat that candy bar every once in awhile it’s a sweet and delicious treat. If you eat it every day, it’s probably still sweet and probably still delicious but much less so than before.  It’s no longer a little present to yourself, it’s now just a candy bar.

I have no problem against people who go out on the weekdays and have an extravagant and party-filled time. If they can manage to muster that much energy and still be in tip-top condition for the next day workload, they have my respect. I’ve come to discover that I am not one of those people and have finally come to accept it. I love being with people, I love being social, I just can’t do it every day. The weekend is a different story, free of weekly pressures and deadlines, I feel truly free and willing to do all kinds of interacting within a two day period. The weekdays for me however are best spent recharging and doing the best I can at what I get paid to do.

Maybe one day this will leave me and I’ll turn into the budding socialite that I always aspired to be* but for now I’ll leave the good times for an occasional taste during the week and a huge meal during the weekend. I may be socially lazy compared to some, but I really don’t mind. As long as the ones who matter most don’t mind either, it seems like I’ll be ok.

Which reminds me, I think I have to meet someone tonight…

Or I'll end up like this guy. YOLO!

*I secretly hope this doesn’t happen otherwise I’ll be that 40 year old dude dancing in the club and creeping out all happening youngsters. 

Half Way In: Birthdays, Goodbyes and Half way points

It is now September, seven months from when I first came to Korea and began working for EPIK and stepped foot into Korea for the first time. Before I get too far into details, I will say that this is going to be a slightly sentimental post on all of the things that I have seen and witnessed since coming to Korea. However, this was not a blog post that was planned or even given second thought. There were no plans to celebrate my anniversary in Korea and the time spent here.

The truth is that if I were not writing this post, I would have probably forgotten about how long I have been here. The old line of feeling just like yesterday has never made more sense to me since coming to Korea. Time seems to go so fast here. There’s always work to go to, people to visit and places to go. I used to enjoy the quiet moments of doing nothing and being lazy but with this new, upbeat lifestyle change, I find it hard to sit still more than a day. I am always wanting to move around and always wanting to get outside, even for a bit and get some fresh air. I am slowly becoming a man of motion, and stopping for anything feels odd and like a waste of time.

It's not a birthday without cake

The last couple weeks have been significant in contributing in the nonstop lifestyle. I recently celebrated my birthday with my first birthday party with friends in my life. It was a small and simple event but one that I was very fun to take part and of and very thankful to participate in. I always used to feel that celebrating your birthday was a slightly selfish act of self indulgence and always felt slightly embarrassed for wanting to have one, however this was a lot of fun. I loved having some good friends around to eat, drink and have a fun time. It’s taken 25 years but I finally figured out that the best birthdays aren’t the ones where lavish attention is spent on the birthday boy/girl, but rather its using your day of birth to spend time around and remind yourself why you are thankful for being alive for and kicking for this long.

Last week also marked two events held at the same time, the birthday of one of my dearest friends and the departure of another good friend.

Our histories go back a few years. The person celebrating their birthday was someone I knew from back in the day as a university student. We became good friends and quite close before she had to go back to Korea and I went my separate way. It was not until this year that I would actually see her again.

As for the person leaving, this person was the best friend in Korea to my friend from the university (still following?). I ended up becoming friends with her and despite the short time of knowing her, got to become good friends.

The group assembled 

The party was a dual celebration of one friend leaving and one friend’s birthday. What made it special was the attendance. I had meet friends and friends of friends through various networks and meet ups through these two people. When I was finally able to see most of them all in one place, in the same room, talking to one another, it was a great moment for me. I was always a sucker for uniting groups of people for common causes and it was especially heartwarming to see all of us coming together to give one person one last goodbye and another person some birthday wishes.

My months in Korea have been memorable and exciting. I have learned, grown as a person and discovered more about myself and others than any other point in my life so far. I hope my remaining time in Korea can be spent learning more, growing more and meeting more people.

Despite being miles from home I can say with complete conviction that I am content and happy with my life. I don’t have all the answers yet, but right now, I don’t need to. Life is simply on auto pilot now. The top is down, the skies are clear and the road is long and empty for miles on end. 

Vacation Wrap Up: Busan and the final days

Coming to Busan was a shock to see and initially a very overwhelming experience. Spending the last few days in the peaceful countryside where the only noise would be the chirping of cicadas or the distant hum of a car was quickly contrasted by the blaring K Pop, nonstop traffic and constant crowds of people hurrying back and forth. It truly felt we had entered another world, or another time and era all together. Living in the past had truly made for a brightly colored and loud future.

One of my friends had been lucky enough to sit next to a friendly resident of Busan who attended Busan University during our bus ride. She had told my friend all about the different spots to see and visit in Busan and the best places to stay for the night. With that knowledge we hopped into a taxi with a destination in mind: a jimjilbang named Homers, supposedly one of the fanciest jimjilbangs in Busan.

The taxi ride was a long one, taking well over ten minutes to arrive at our destination. Traffic and tall buildings bathed in neon light was a constant reminder that we were back in the big city, back to civilization. We were still recovering from the shock of being back. I used to enjoy living in the city and being part of the hustle, it made everything feel dynamic and alive. Everything was always moving. Everything was always exciting.

My love of the city was subsided during my trip. I had gotten used to the peace and quiet; I was beginning to appreciate how much time and space I had in the rural areas. The air was cleaner, the people nicer and the food tastier. Our cab driver was mostly silent on the way to the jimjilbang, only occasionally confirming our destination. I was officially missing the smaller places; I even missed the talkative cabbies.

We arrived at Homers and were greeted with a large building in front of us. The inside lobby was a posh collection of immaculate polished floors, shiny glass chandeliers and smooth brass railings. Dressed in only a sweaty t shirt and carrying only a backpack, this place was much too fancy for my vagabond looking self.

Homers was two parts, one a jimjilbang and the other a hotel. Both were connected and both could allow different people to go back and forth as they choose to. The jimjilbang was on the higher floors and despite being slightly less fancy, it was still the most impressive jimjilbang that I had been to yet. The highlight was a huge window that allowed a view of Busan’s famous bridge from the jimjilbang hot tub or the sleeping area. It was only a few feet away from one of the smaller beaches in Busan, with a view that allowed you to see the dark waves crashing up on the shore and the brightly lit stands selling food and random trinkets to shine brightly below.

Being that this was towards the end of our trip, the fatigue of traveling around was beginning to catch up to all of us.  Despite the novelty of the place we were in, sleep was a main objective. As much as I wanted to sleep, my body was still too active, still too excited to go to sleep just yet. Thankfully my friend sitting next to me was not quite ready for bed either (or was and I ended up keeping her up) and the next few hours were spent talking and taking in the view in front of us. It was funny to think that at the time, our journey started in a bus station with the mountains in the background and was now ending with a bridge and the ocean. It was a comforting and triumphant thought as the room grew dimmer and my eyes grew heavier.

I was immediately awoken by a sound intimately familiar with. I bolted up to the sound of the entire room’s scream, once again awkwardly looking around trying to get over my initial shock and disbelief that something like this could happen to me again.

My blurry eyes made out a large group of people glued to the TV in front of them. By the time I had put my glasses on and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, I was finally able to piece together the chaos as the room once again let out a unified scream that shook the room.

The soccer game between Korea and Japan was on TV, the game that was one of the biggest games for any Korean with even a passive interest in sports. It was nation versus nation, pride versus pride and even at three in the morning, these fans were going to show their support.

With the outburst of noise, sleep was no longer a viable option. I moved around the room watching the people and the game, not really angry or tired but more amused and interested in a game that had now managed to capture the attention of the entire formally sleeping room.

By the time the sun began to peak over the ocean and rise between the columns of the bridge, casting its lights and shadows on the sand below, the noise and excitement had just reached its peak. Korea had just won the game, the crowd had gone wild, and the yelling and the screaming was slowly beginning to die down. After the last few people had finally left the TV, quiet had swept over the room again and the quietness was finally back, inviting for someone who had only previously slept a few hours before, just enough time for an hour of sleep before having to wake up again.

The reason we awoke so early was to meet another friend meeting up with us. Not only would we be traveling around Busan with him, we would be traveling around in a car that he had rented and he would be driving. I had ridden in cars around Korea before, but never with close friends and never for the purpose of just driving around.

The sun was shining brightly as my friend signed the release papers and we cautiously got into our small fuel- efficient car for the first time. We would be driving in one of the biggest cities in Korea with some of the more aggressive drivers in Korea. My friend said a prayer for us before we left. We all laughed it off as a joke, but I secretly suspected that she was not.

The worry and fear of driving was quickly replaced with an incredible sense of freedom and excitement. We were riding in our own car in Korea. We didn’t have to rely on the subway or the bus. We were free to go where we wanted to, listen to our own music and leave when we felt like it. The freedom and giddiness was infectious and soon everyone in the car was laughing and talking on where to go and what to do.

I never thought you could encapsulate the feeling of driving for the first time but this was a moment that was perfectly replicated for me. We were young, we could go where we wanted to, and we had no worries.

We spent the day driving to random places in Busan, occasionally taking a look at a map to get a solid idea of what areas to visit. We ended up going to two large malls, one of which was supposedly one of the largest in the world, a driving range bowling and finally finishing with a steak dinner. Relatively normal and characteristic of big city living but I didn’t care. We went to these places with good people, drove there with our own will and did next to no planning.

The trip had come to an end and as I boarded my train to go back home and prepare for my return back to the work force, my mind was completely at peace. No reflection, no worries and no planning ahead. Just silence and serenity existed where only a few weeks before worry and stress.

There was nothing left to think about. I now had everything I wanted, everything I needed. 

Our chariot of freedom in Busan

Vacation Wrap Up: Tongyeong, cable cars and the ocean

After the heart attack inducing night with the screaming old man, my friends and I set out for the city of Tonyeong. While I tried my hardest to uphold the illusion of a proper night’s rest, I could not maintain the illusion for long. As soon as we bought our bus tickets, we all ended up passing out on the bus. The two hour ride seemed like a blissful period to rest and recover precious hours of sleep rather than a burden of having to wait before heading to a location.  It was the most restful sleep I had ever gotten on a bus.

Once we arrived at the bus station it would be a ten minute taxi ride to our location destination, a cable car ride up to the mountains.  We quickly found a taxi and were able to get a good view of the town on the way. One of the travelers I was traveling with was near fluent in Korean and upon our driver discovering that, decided to have a conversation with her. Naturally I couldn’t completely understand what she was talking about but I could tell from her smiles and tone of voice that she was enjoying the banter she was having, or at the very least, pretending to.

After their conversation was over, she told us the details. She told us how this taxi driver was a representative of a historical figure during Tongyeong’s festival in the fall. He also told a story of the boys who lived in the town and how they conspired to date girls from the big city.

“Boys who live in the country often try to date girls from the city. However, most girls from the city are vain and not interested in dating country boys. So what the boys do is have the girls they are interested in come down to Tonyeong and catch fish for them. They catch the fish, clean them and prepare them as a meal. The fish are so delicious and the girls are so impressed that they end up coming to the town and dating the country boys. So I think, if you want to get a city girl to like you, learn how to fish for her.”

The secrets of love, life and fishing all in a single cab ride.

As we approached the cable car station, the driver told us one last piece of advice before leaving.

“When you go up and down the mountain, be sure to sit on the left side of the car. You can get a good view of the mountains and when you come back it looks like you’re going into the sea. Also, be sure to make a wish once you make it up to the top of the mountain. Be sure it’s only one wish through. Anymore than one would leave the mountain god confused and unable to grant the one you wanted.”

Once we arrived at the cable car station we began our trip up the mountain. The car slowly crawled its way up the mountain. We shared a car with another family, a father, mother and teenage son. As we slowly climbed up the mountain and the trees and building began to become smaller, the car began to slowly rock from side to side. The father in front of us began to close his eyes and bury his head in the palm of his hands. I could hear him mumbling to himself as the mother rubbed his back for encouragement. As we were getting higher, the father was slowly beginning to lose his nerve.  I however was enjoying the sights and the distant view of little buildings and cars nestled close to the coast. It was a view like a postcard, one that I tried to soak into my memories and burn into my brain.

Once we had reached the top, of the mountain we were greeted with a slew of people standing around, taking pictures and enjoying the view. There was an option to go even higher and have a better view of the ocean and surrounding mountains, the same spot where centuries ago famous Korean generals and strategists stood observing the sea battles taking place below them.  We stood silent staring out at the ocean below. I had seen the ocean a total of two times during this trip and it still had not gotten old. Its vastness and relative calm made me feel comfortable.  By being surrounded by the mountains and tress made everything seem at ease. That everything was right with the world and that standing here was a safe place, a place to reflect and marvel at the natural beauty all around you.

Soon it was time to leave. I made a silent wish before leaving for the downward cable car. I made it simple, but poignant. It was personal, but unselfish. It was the best wish I had made in years and it felt completely satisfying, even coming from someone who never really believed in wishes.

After leaving the cable car and heading back to the bus station to hit our next destination, we were lucky enough to have another talkative taxi driver on the way to the bus station. That was one thing I noticed about the taxi drivers and other people living near the coast. Everyone was very welcoming and easy to talk to. Even a foreigner with a limited grasp in Korea could still engage in a short, but friendly conversation. There was a sense of closeness and community that was rare in my town and completely nonexistent in the bigger cities.

The next bus ride took us to a small town not too far from Tonyeong. This small town was where our ferry ride awaited us. I had not yet ventured to a town smaller than my own, so seeing sights like a bus station the size of a small room and ferry station about the size of my apartment was novel and reminded me that no matter where you go, there is always somewhere smaller.
We did not need to wait long for our ferry to board. We had just enough time to grab a quick bite to eat, local seafood specialty before heading on the boat.

Not since being in Japan had I been able to ride on a boat in the middle of the ocean. The overcast sky reflected off of the dull water. Ships floated lazily out in the distance and besides the gentle hum of the motor, only the waves could be heard.

Our host on the ferry ride was a funny guy. His snarky and sarcastic humor went over well with the audience as he chided us for not being more interested in what we had to say and wondered why we sounded so unenthused.
“You picked the right boat today, but I picked the wrong audience,” he said.

The ferry ran close to rock formations, huge jagged rocks hutting out of the water, forming a small valley that could barely fit a single person. One other formations fisherman could be seen casting off, using only a small area for standing as they stood straight as a pole against the crashing waves determined to obtain their next catch.

Our ship came to a rest at a small island in the ocean, where we had an hour to explore and rest. We decided to simply sit out the exploring part and take a rest while we ate our meal and looked off at the ocean below us. The island was owned by a couple who had originally fled from North Korea and ended up building a area to explore and observe. It was a beautiful and almost eerily isolated place of peace and beauty so far from civilization.

As we looked off into the distance, I noticed a collection of small towns and buildings on individual islands. There were no roads, nor bridges. These people were living their own lives out away from the small town, away from the constantly in motion society of Korea. They had escaped the lifestyle that grips every Korean from birth until death and were living their lives and making a living on their own island, in their own world.

I thought about where we had traveled so far and how far we had come. Being so close to the coast had allowed me to see sights not common to someone living in the middle of mountains. It was so refreshing down here, the smell of sea air all around you, the freshness of food and the friendly demeanor of the people made traveling and transportation a pleasant adventure, more than a nuisance. Maybe the people living by the ocean would have thought the same way if they came to my town. Maybe they would have enjoyed the slightly busier atmosphere and mountains around them. Maybe they would have enjoyed the big city with all of its sights and sounds. Maybe they found this simple life too boring and predictable.

The thought amused me for a bit more before we had to make our way back to the ferry. Daylight was quickly slipping away and after a short discussion, decided that our best option was to go straight to Busan and spend the night there.  Our time spent away from the big city was coming to an end, along with our vacation. We were on our way back to the rush of modern society, we were on our way back to our more familiar lives.

A wish is only a cable car away

Vacation Wrap Day 4: Yeosu Jimjilbang

After spending an entire day at Yeosu Expo, coming back to a hot bath and clean pajamas sounded like a welcome change from aching feet and humidity stained clothing. After our miraculous taxi find, we were able to promptly check into the same jimjilbang from the night before. Since we arrived early, beating the crowd still waiting at the expo bus stops we found a cozy and quiet little corner to rest. While the rest of my traveling companions went to take showers and each of us took turns watching our spot, hunger began to take over until it was clear that it would take priority over sleep.

With my body feeling momentary defeat not being able to rest and my stomach's approaching victory of being full, I made my way downstairs to the tiny dining area with hopes of getting a quick bit and a beer before heading to bed.

I ordered my food and quickly took my seat. My ill attempt to use Korean to order quickly let the cashier know that I was not from around here. I was surprised to find out that after I told her that English was my native language, she was able to communicate back with me.

“My daughter also speaks English, she used to be good but she lost it.”

Her daughter was a girl with a thick glasses and a short bob haircut scrambling around the room talking to customers and clearing cups and bowels. When she spoke, her accent was strong, her dialect a distinct and sharp. When she spoke it was loud and quick, to someone not familiar with Korean her voice and tone sounded harsh and unwelcoming, to someone who understood barely enough Korean to get by, her voice and word choices were far from formal, but rather direct and to the point. Less of “Mother would you please make some bibimbap?” and more of “Hey mom! Can you make some bibimbap?”

I sat down at my table, staring absently at the late night comedy/variety show on the TV. The girl in the glasses came over and brought a bowel of bibimbap and a cold can of beer with it. Only a few months ago, I would have thought twice about having bibimbap this late, now it was a feast fit for a king.

I told the girl thank you, preparing to dig into my meal and eat it quickly enough so I could get to bed at a decent hour. As I began to stir the contents of the bowel and took a sip of beer, I noticed that the girl still remained behind.

“You speak English?” asked the girl curiously.

“I do. Hi, nice to meet you,” I said extending my hand for a handshake.

“Oh, that is good. Thank you. Enjoy your meal,” said the girl before quickly leaving.

I quickly gobbled down my meal. More concerned with going to bed on time rather than savoring a dish that I would surely have again some day in Korea. I finished my meal and quickly finished my beer before bringing up my dishes to the counter and heading towards the sleeping area.

As I was about to leave the eating area I heard the voice of the girl call out to me.

“Excuse me, um don't go yet wait.”

The girl quickly opened a refrigerator door and began mixing a liquid in a large glass.

Curious, I slowly walked back into the eating area and waited as she stirred the contents in the glass.

She handed me the glass, inside, an opaque liquid swirled around inside.

“This drink is for you, it is free, um, service. This drink very good. Very healthy,” she said with a smile on her face.

I thanked her and took a sip. I still wasn't sure what I was drinking, how it was made or where it came from but based on two factors: I was alive and it did not taste bad I continued to drink it and revel in this stranger's kind hospitality.

As I walked out for a second time, this time with mysterious drink in hand, the girl's mother called out to me, once again stopping me in my tracks.

“We are having dinner soon. Would you like to eat with us?” she asked.

My body was tired, my eyes were starting to feel heavy and my friends were probably already fast asleep. However, there was a little part o me that didn't want to go to bed yet.

Despite being tired and the hours available for sleep slowly ticking away, I felt that this was an opportunity I shouldn’t miss. At the time I couldn’t quite figure out why I was so compelled to stay and eat with them. Perhaps it was the sheer curiosity at the novelty and surprise of such a random moment in such an unusual hour for social activity.

The dinner conversation was short and scarce. Despite their knowledge and proficiency in English, it was only enough to communicate with the most basic of questions. When combined with my limited grasp of Korean, it made for limited dinner conversation. Still they were friendly and enjoyable to be around, a genuine sense of closeness and family was felt from these two in their body language and the way they talked to one another so casually without a second thought. They were a happy and content family. Considering how busy they were, this was a comforting thought.

I politely excused myself once the chicken was gone and the conversation grew stale. It was already two in the morning and my body was screaming at me to go to sleep. As I left the daughter said a cheerful goodbye of “Goodbye. Thanks for coming. See you later. I love you.”

My body gave into the fatigue once I laid on my mat. For being in the corner of a room filled with strangers on a hard wood floor, I never felt more eager to sleep and more peaceful. The vacation was going so well, it was an almost blissful relaxing, state of mind, a warm blanket that made the sleep even more restful.

The bliss of a restful sleep was suddenly and jarringly taken a way with a shrill scream of terror. The scream echoed off the walls and filled the room with such a loud and permeating sounds that I was certain that everyone heard it throughout the building. this wasn’t scream of a man who was startled, but the scream of a man who had just had a moment of sheer terror.

The entire room sprang awake, drowsy and disoriented on what had just happened. I immediately sprang awake, hands fumbling at the ground as I attempted to grab my glasses and see where the scream had come from. People began to walk around and talk to each other in worried voices. My friends were either groggily attempting to scan the room or too startled to fully comprehend what was happening. Once I had finally put my glasses on I saw people begin to fall back asleep or go back to their mats. We had all determined at this point it was an older man who must have had a nightmare and that the shock was over.

Still half asleep I put my head back to rest and slowly began to fall asleep. At the time I didn’t know that I had only a few hours left before having to wake up and move on to my next destination. My peaceful sleep was interrupted and try as I might, I wouldn’t be getting it back.

The next morning we looked back at the night before, trying to make sense of what had happened. We laughed about it, noting just how rare and absurd the situation was, noting that something like this would probably never happen again to us.

That was one of my most memorable nights in Korea. I will always remember the random family who welcomed me into their life for a few minutes nor will I ever forget the man who’s scream shook me to my very soul.

By the end of the day all I wanted was a damn shower and a damn bed. 

Vacation Wrap Up Day 3 (Yeosu Expo)

The remaining days of my Korean backpacking adventure were spent doing things I have never done before, seeing things I have never seen and walking away with experiences that will most likely remain in mind for a long time. It was a true fish out of water experience, but one that always felt rewarding and well worth the effort to find and discover new things.

After spending the night in Jindo at my first jimjilbang, I headed out with my traveling companions to attend the Yeosu Expo.

The Yeosu Expo was an event that involved different countries around the world meeting in one place to share their latest developments and breakthroughs in ocean conservation and protection. Along with the many education exhibits were different bands, a k pop concert, fireworks show and different variety all through the venue. It was like a mini environmentally friendly theme park to spend the day in and explore.

I had heard many things about the expo, most of them along the lines on what a unique and rare experience it was for Korea to be hosting this event. I heard people say that eager visitors came as far away as Italy and Germany and was willing to pay top dollar just to get in.

We only ended up paying ten thousand won for admission.

Apparently there was a foreigner price where we ended up paying much less than a normal Korean attendee. It completely caught us by surprise and set the tone for the pleasant day we would have. Sometimes it was good to be a foreigner; this was one of those cases.

The entire expo was one spectacle after another. Each country had their own exhibit featuring their own breakthroughs in protecting the ocean along with a unique presentation to go along with it. For the US, it was a large curved screen featuring greetings from Hillary Clinton and Barrack Obama. The German exhibit featured an interactive beach complete with fake sand and interactive exhibits. My favorite exhibit was the Korean one, where guests were treated to a cultural presentation complete with traditional dance and a 360 degree dome movie theater where a short film detailing the history of Korea and the sea was shown. The amount of immersion and full sensory interaction was magnificent.

The rest of the expo had different entertainment events over the course of the day. One was a giant wooden puppet that walked along the road along with an ocean themed parade.  Another was a water show complete with jet skis, a water jetpack and a princess in peril. My favorite was a robotics presentation with the latest in what Korea was producing in regards to robots.  Since I was a child, robots always held my interest and seeing a large line up of them in person was a treat.

The highlights were easily the ocean construction robots. While most of them were designed to resemble sea creatures such as eels and crabs, one looked more like a giant mecha from the old anime in the 80’s designed to help build and support structures. 

I want one. With optional plasma cannon. 

My childhood dreams were happening right in front of me, a huge robot that was only a few years from reality looking like something from the shows I watched as a kid. I was grinning the entire time. Sometimes dreams do come true.

The show ended with a presentation at the “Big O”, a large circular object that used lights, pyrotechnics and water to create images. The results were spectacular and surprisingly clear for using nothing but water as its display surface.  It was a very appropriate end to a great day of information and spectacle.

After the expo was over, we ran into another adventure in itself, leaving the expo in one piece. It was to be expected that most people were to be leaving but what I witnessed and managed to make my way through was one of the most chaotic scenes I have ever witnessed in Korea.

Line stretched around the block with people waiting for taxis. This would not be a problem if there were a line of taxis waiting to leave like at bus or train stations. However, taxis would show up in intervals of around every five minutes and only one taxi at a time.  Suddenly the bus didn’t seem like a bad option.

Heading to the bus was an even greater task with obstacles of crowds of people, police and cars in the way. Once we made our way to the bus stop, we were greeted to an even longer line of people waiting for a bus that had strangely not shown up yet. Not wanting to wait for what would possibly be hours, we decided to walk further away from the expo in hopes of finding a taxi further away.

The walk would require us to make a long trek up a steep hill crowded with cars and busses trying to leave the expo and people who had the same idea we did moving further away.  It looked like something out of a disaster movie. Crowds of people moving away, cars stuck in a standstill collisions between vehicles and angry Koreans yelling at each other in angry Korean. If I wasn’t so tired and drenched in sweat, it would have a very amusing scene.

After hiking up the hill one of the group managed to spot a taxi on the other side of the road, after speaking to him in Korean, he not only stopped to pick us up, but he also came over to the other side even in the densely packed road. I was never so happy to see a taxi in my life. Taxi God if you are reading this I want to take the opportunity to say thank you.

We made our way back to the jimjilbang where visions of sleep and a hot shower awaited us. I was ready to call it a night, but at the time little did I know, that my night was just starting to get interesting and a full night’s sleep would simply be out of the question.