We Move to Suwon

Scott and I spent our last day of our vacation in Seoul at the Korean War Memorial Museum.  Like the other museums we’d seen so far, there was an overload of very interesting information.  Out front of the mammoth structure is a very powerful sculpture called “The Statue of Brothers,” in which two enormous bronze figures, dressed in the fatigues of the Korean War, are locked in a tight embrace. One figure has been weakened or injured; the other is helping to support his weight. It is a poignant moment of homecoming and reconciliation.

Korea is a nation split in half, and the wounds of the split are still fresh. North Korea is generally regarded by the world as a ludicrous and irresponsible country, guilty of causing widespread suffering and starvation, of reckless and despicable violence. But for the people of South Korea, this is not stuff just for the World News page of the paper, to be scoffed at and kept at a distance. The border between the two countries is really only a handful of miles from Seoul. The people trapped on the other side are family, cousins, grandparents.  The Statue of Brothers expresses the deepest hope of the Korean people. It is not revenge, it is not punishment. It is the reunion of lost brothers, it is forgiveness, it is moving on together, in love and harmony. We stared at the statue for some time.

We saw some incredible monuments paying tribute to the people involved in the Korean War and to all the foreign aid provided during such a tumultuous time for this country.  Not being well versed in ancient Korean dynasties and history, a lot of information went a bit over our heads.  It was overall a beautiful museum experience, but by the end all I wanted pictures of were the gaggles of overwhelmingly cute Korean kids running around.  Oh- we had no idea what was coming our way as we tried to look at the kids and figure out about how old our students would be in comparison.

  

We packed our insane amounts of luggage (please refer to our facebook picture of us leaving the Salt Lake City airport) out of our painfully tiny and loud hostel and began to make our way to our new hometown of Suwon.  I had been keeping myself going for months, by imagining our new place- small, but a place of our very own!!! Our new boss suggested taking a bus…but seeing as how we only knew how to ride the Seoul subway system, we opted to travel by train instead.   As soon as I was onto the sidewalk outside our hostel I knew I couldn’t manage it.  But by that point it was too late- we had no idea how to catch a taxi or how to tell them where we needed to go, so we were stuck to our train fate.  It was a day I will never forget as long as I live.

Scott and I each had a large backpacking pack on our backs (50 pounds or so), a normal sized backpack on our chest (15-20 pounds), and a purse of sorts on one shoulder.  If that wasn’t enough, Scott also had his guitar (20-25 pounds) and I had a large piece of luggage on rollers that Scott quickly had to take over (30-40 pounds—poor Scott). 

We were screwed. 

I was already sweating by the time we reached the subway station a few blocks from our hostel…a bad sign.  Then there were the stairs.  Huge flights of them, first to get down to the tracks and of course to transfer from line to line- which we were lucky enough to do three separate times- and then back up to ground level.  Seoul uses an electronic debit card to use the subway system called a T-money card.  You swipe it, it subtracts a fee and you walk through the turnstile…unless of course you are Scott carrying four too many bags to fit through the Asian sized walking space.  So he swiped his card, got stuck with his bags and then got locked out.  Meanwhile, I’m on the other side of the gate, trying to ignore the angry lines of people building up behind us.  Luckily a couple somehow got though a handicap entrance, so I ran and grabbed the gate before it closed and grabbed poor Scott and his stuff and tried our best to blend into the crowds.  Like two white people dressed like pack animals in a sea of bustling Koreans could be at all inconspicuous.  To put it plainly, people were not pleased to see us.  Ajummas were scolding us in Korean as we pushed our way onto to the subway car.  Surprise, surprise- no seats left for our hour plus ride to Suwon.  We stood in the crowded train car, beads of sweat forming on our brows, the straps of all of our packs slowly and persistently digging into our shoulders. Every time the train lurched to a halt or suddenly sped away from a station, it took all we had to keep from falling down. And again and again, giant flights of stairs with every line transfer (where do these people hide the elevators???). It was easily one of the most difficult things we’ve ever done.

Finally, thankfully, we arrived at Suwon station. Late, sweaty, defeated and exhausted, we found our new employer looking for us outside the turnstile.  We were so embarrassed to make such a first impression on our new boss. 

After a short reprieve in a car with our bags loaded into the trunk, we arrived at our new apartment.  We understood that only one of our two apartments would be available to us for the first few days.  We walked down a small road, shimmied past cars parked by what looked like a pizza place into an alley that featured the entrance to our new apartment. 

The place was filthy.  And this is coming from a girl who struggles to be tidy.  Literal dirt all over the bed, dirty rags in the bathroom, a handful of dirty dishes and cups in the cupboards (yes, in the CUPBOARDS) and a microwave that probably had grown the cure for cancer.  Dear Lord.

If there had been a moment’s peace then, we might have broken down and cried, but we were instantly introduced to our head foreign teacher Kate, an American from Minnesota, who had been living in Korea for a year and a half, and the other foreign teacher Samantha (also from Minnesota) who had got off the plane from the States just hours earlier.  Kate whisked us off to a store called Home Plus, which is sort of like Wal-Mart if Wal-Mart had six floors. ENORMOUS. And bustlingly crowded. We stared slack-jawed as were led from one aisle to the other, buying sponges, towels, laundry detergent, cereal, water bottles—all those things that were imminently important and necessary but that we NEVER would’ve thought of on our own at that point. We wound through the aisles of this mega-store for two hours, gathering necessities and home supplies. My brain was so overstimulated by the flood of new products and the crowd of Korean people chattering in Hangul and the sheer exhaustion of the day, that I hardly could process the idea that, hey, we live here now.

Funny thing about shopping when you don’t have a car is that whatever you buy, you CARRY home. So Scott and I had to haul a couple giant and overloaded shopping bags three city blocks back to the apartment. When we finally got there and said goodnight to our new co-teachers, we plopped down, shaking and exhausted, into our filthy, filthy room (thanks, previous tenants). 

Of course, the night wasn’t over yet, because we realized with a grimace that, amidst all our effort and hauling of heavy bags here and there, we had forgotten how hungry we both were. So we walked back into the streets of our new neighborhood, surly, angry, and tired. There was a restaurant that might’ve served some sort of meat on a skillet, really hard to tell from the picture; over there was another restaurant with a mysterious pile of red spiced stuff in a bowl surrounded by unintelligible Hangul. Over there was a KFC. “I don’t want to go to KFC,” Scott told me, “they’re not an ethical company.” So we walked for another ten minutes through the streets, looking for something that we could at least order without an ordeal.

“You know what,” Scott said a few minutes later, “I don’t care. I really don’t care. Let’s go back to KFC. I’m too tired to figure this out right now. Just don’t tell anybody.”

“It’ll be our little secret,” I said.

So we ate chicken sandwiches on the floor of our new apartment, and despite the strain of the previous 6 hours, we actually chuckled a little bit.