Arrival

There comes a point when you just have to let go. No matter how much careful and precise planning you put into a thing, eventually you just have to relax and let events flow however they are going to.

I hit this point at the moment I got off the plane in Seoul. For months I had been planning and working within a more or less rigid system. My path had always been clear, my next several steps always laid out for me by those I was working with. But this path of knowing ended when I arrived. All I knew was that somewhere in the airport was a man with my name on a sign, and that I had to find him because he would know what needed to happen next.

After clearing customs I found my contact, and nothing from there went at all how I expected it to. I was no longer in control of the situation, but a mere passenger on a ride that was starting to go very fast.

For starters, my contact spoke very little English. So little in fact that I shall continue to refer to him simply as "my contact" because I don't believe he understood the question "What is your name?". I saw the man with the sign that said "David" and waved to him. He excitedly and energetically came over to me and grabbed the cart with all of my bags on it with a gigantic toothy grin on his face. I'll say this; he was very friendly.

So he starts off and I fallow. I try to make small talk on a few occasions, but give up rather quickly. For the most part, to anything I say he either answers me in Korean, or just gives me a funny look. Of course, this is totally fair, because I responded to everything he said either in English or with a funny look of my own.

We make it outside the airport and there is a bus waiting. He gestures over to the underside storage area of the bus. I gesture myself and say "luggage?" (by this point I've found complete sentences to be both useless and a waste of time), and he nods wildly and says "Luggage! Yes!". Ok, I guess we're taking a bus. I had thought he had a car. I wonder were we are going...

We pile onto the bus, and he hands the bus driver two tickets. He then gestures at two seats and waits for me to sit down first. My impression of this man is very positive. He's friendly, always smiling, seems to know exactly what he's doing even if he can't tell me what that is, and for the most part his attempts and methods of communication are highly amusing. I ask him where we are going. "Uh...shuttle!" Clearly he misunderstands. "Yes, I know we're on a shuttle, but where is it taking us?" He gestures towards us and then away from us with an inquisitive look. I nod, he grins. "Shuttle, then car." "Oh, so you do have a car?" "Car! yes!" "Ok, and then where are we going in your car?" "Hotel!" "So, I'm staying in a hotel tonight? Ok. Will there be anyone from my school there? Anyone to welcome me or explain to me what is going on next?" To this I just get a funny look. "What happens after hotel?" He just shrugs. Hmm, ok, so I'm being taken to a random hotel, and then, who knows. I tell myself to relax, and assure myself that everything will be made clear in time.

The drive from the airport to his car was a lengthy one. I dozed off several times, and spent the rest of the time observing and contemplating the scenery. It was a foggy day, and when we crossed the bridge from the airport to the mainland, a feeling of intensity came over me. So, this is Asia, I thought. Perhaps as a westerner I have a somewhat romanticized view of the east. And perhaps because I had been traveling for over 20 hours with virtually no sleep, my mind was prone to the dramatic and romanticized view of things. But the aesthetics of the fog, the color of the water, and the ships floating silently in the ocean all combined to create in me an intensity for the first time that can only be described as a magical realization of where I was.

Mainland, too, there was something about the scenery that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The Korean climate is mostly identical to Midwestern USA. There are four seasons, a descent amount of precipitation, etc. So it doesn't seem like the landscape should feel all that different, and yet it did. Everything was basically the same, and yet still completely Alien. It's difficult to describe. The hills roll differently. The fog blankets differently. The trees have a slightly different quality in their leaves, that makes them feel ever so slightly jungle like, even though they are not.

Finally the buss drops us off in Seoul. My contact gestures for me to stay while he gets the car. It's actually quite remarkable how much can actually be communicated through gestures. He walks away, and I'm standing, for the first time, completely alone in an entirely foreign country. I must have looked ridiculous, standing on the side of the road, with four over stuffed bags, looking both American and lost. People would look at me as they walked or drove by, and I chuckled to myself, enjoying the reversal. All I could do was imagine some Korean exchange student, standing on the street somewhere in the states, looking confused as people passed and laughed at the funny Asian kid.

The car arrived, we loaded it up, and drove to the hotel. It was only about a 15 minute drive, and mostly not noteworthy. I did however get the impression that Seoul, with it's tiny side streets and heavy pedestrian population, is not a place that I ever want to drive in. We arrived at the hotel and my contact helps me get my bags in. He hands a slip of paper to the man at the desk and receives a key and another piece of paper. He hands these to me. I read what is on the paper. "David, I will pick you up at 7:50 tomorrow to take you to school. -Karen". Ok, so at least I know my next step. I'm a little nervous about being completely on my own tonight, but the situation could definitely be worse.

By this time the man who got me here is on the elevator with my bags calling for me to come with him. He takes me up to my room, helps me gets my bags in, shakes my hand, and leaves. Well that's that I suppose. look around. Nice place. I don't get the impression that this is a high class joint by any means, but it is very comfortable and accommodating. I have a mini fridge stocked with two juice beverages, as well as bath towels, bath soap, shampoo, a myriad of hair and skin care products, hairbrushes, combs, toothpaste, and even a complimentary box of condoms.

But no food, and that is what I need at the moment. So I take a shower and wash the travel off my body, get dressed, and go. Luckily, the neighborhood around the hotel is absolutely packed with restaurants. It seems like every single first story storefront, and occasionally the second story ones as well, are food establishments. The only exception is a convenient store on the corner of every block or two. I've never seen so many places to eat crammed into one location. It's impossible to describe tthe scene, but I will post pictures soon. Needless to say, to the fat kid that lives inside of me, it was heaven.

So, food is everywhere. The only problem is...no one speaks any English, and I don't speak any Korean. It's amazing how much of a problem this becomes when trying to order a simple meal. We absolutely take the commonality of language for granted in our daily lives. The first hurtle is actually getting up the nerve to walk into a restaurant all by yourself and babble at the people inside in a tongue they don't speak. The second hurtle is actually ordering, because there's no way to have any idea of what's on the menu. The best you can really do is point to a random item within your price range, and hope it ends up being delicious, or at least edible.

I finally choose a place where I see people eating things that look like I would want to eat them, and walk inside. I get no where fast. A lady comes over to me and says some stuff in Korean. I try to gesture that I'm very hungry, and that I don't care what she brings me. She says some more stuff in Korean. I point to the menu and gesture wildly. She holds up two fingers. I hold up one finger. She shakes her head and thrusts two fingers at me. I stand there looking confused.

She sighs and goes in the back and brings out another lady who speaks some English. This woman explains to me that in a traditional Korean restaurant, everything is served family style, and can't be served in portions for one. She then takes me up the street, and shows me to a place that not only serves single portions, but has a menu with pictures well!

I ordered what looked like sushi, and it basically was. It came in a sufficiently large portion, tasted better than any I have ever had in the states, and only cost 4 dollars. Feeling full and very happy, I returned to my hotel room to get some sleep. My first night in Korea had been a bit intense, and a little frightening, but everything had turned out just fine in the end. A good omen for the coming year.

More to come soon.
-Mongoose