Of Enchantments and Tangents - 2020/07/18
“People don’t take trips, trips take people.” – John Steinbeck
(Fun fact about South Korea - many of their sweets and treats are nowhere near as sweet as ours in the States. It took me admittedly much too long to realize this. But it was eating their equivalent of Cocoa Puffs that it clicked. The first time I sat down to eat it, I was trying to figure out what was wrong. Bite after bite, it just didn't quite feel complete. My mind and tongue were calling out for something extra that I just couldn't quite name. Then the thought came to me that if I added a spoonful of white sugar to it, like I used to with Cheerios, that would solve it. Immediately my mind and tongue nodded in agreement and for a solid second I thought about the white sugar in my cupboard. Then I laughed at myself because putting more sugar on Cocoa Puffs is like putting gasoline on a nuclear bomb. It's 100% unnecessary for the end result - generally death via head rush and mild migraine.
Then I paused, actually paying attention to myself. There was no sugar rush. No sickeningly sweet blechiness warning of a miserable next few hours. And the cocoa puffs tasted almost bitter, in a way that reminded my pleasantly of dark chocolate. It just wasn't as sweet as its American counter part. I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. So I finished it of course to make sure I had accurately pinned this phenomenon, and when the milk that was left tasted faintly of grain and dark chocolate, and not Nesquik, my world was rocked. By the time I get back to the US their cereal will royal fry my brain. But I digress.)
I thoroughly enjoyed talking to my family, and by family I really mean two of my younger brothers. While the M in MRRS was also there, as was one of my sisters, the boys monopolized most of the screen time. To be fair, I talk to M and my sister literally all the time. The fact that the quantity of our messages hasn't taken a hit since I got to South Korea is a testament to how little sleep we all get. The guys on the other hand, aren't much for messaging. Even if they were, their job doesn't allow for time to talk anyways (they're basically lumber jacks). So it was good to talk to them, since it was probably the longest conversations I had had with either of them since getting here over two weeks ago.
But all good things must eventually come to an end, especially when they're 14 hours behind me. I said good night, they said good morning, and then I was only twenty minutes away from my quarantine being over. I eyed the little home icon marking my Quarantine Self-Reporting app (dubbed e-babysitter), and smiled at it wickedly. Soon I could turn off my phone again, turn off my location again, not have to report a temperature and that I don't have cold symptoms, and it would stop running in the background trying to kill my battery....
Honestly I was too preoccupied with the prospect of freedom to really remember what I did exactly until noon, but when my alarm went off to check in for the final time, I had my final symptoms reported and the app cleared in less than a minute. Then I just sat there.
No one was going to ask where I was. I wasn't going to get anymore flashing orange alerts screaming for verification that I hadn't decided to wander the wilds of Changwon leaving e-babysitter and it's tracker behind. I didn't have to over analyze my symptoms, wondering if I was truly congested, or if it was the cheese in the ddoekbokki triggering my lactose intolerance.
I was free.
And that was terrifying. If I hadn't told virtually everyone that I had grand plans to explore everywhere once I got out, I likely would have contented myself with opening the balcony and sitting there with my phone turned off. But I'm a woman of my word, so for the first time in two weeks, I again subjected myself to jeans. From one prison to another it would seem.
Contrary to popular opinion, it is entirely possible to lose weight eating ramen. As my jeans attested. Now before anyone gets too skeptical hear me out. A packet of ramen 300-500kCal. Add half a potato and some garlic/onions that you've sautéed and you have you veggies and have only added maybe 50 calories. Eat this twice a day. And maybe 150-200 calories of ice cream (that by the way, is also not as sweet as in the states, still adjusting to that). That's at ~1250kCals. Then lets add exercise four times a week, I won't quote the calorie burn the app says, because it's too ludicrously high, but it's more than the nothing before I got here. Put that all together, and you get comfy fitting jeans.
Which in hindsight was fortunate. If I had put them on and found the opposite had occurred, I'd likely have just stayed and finished the box of Korean coco puffs in despair.
L texted me as I was getting ready to go out, and I think she was surprised that it was half past noon and I was still in the apartment. I'll admit to needing some psychological preparation. I had never been outside in Korean on my own before. There had always been an adult (much adultier than I) present. And both times here in Changwon, they had had an ambulance, just in case I guess. But now, here I was, the only adult interested in me in the near vicinity, with no ambulance. The hype was real. I might have hyperventilated a tiny bit and almost forgot to put a mask on before leaving.
And then I was out.
Since this was my first time being able to really take a minute and slowly absorb my surroundings, I actually paused at the top of the stairs and looked. I wasn't disappointed. To the side of the stairs I finally noticed that I was almost within touching distance of the buildings across from me (assuming I was Elastigirl). A narrow alleyway was below me, and I'm still not quite sure if it's an alley, so much as a bunch of little backdoors stacked along each other. But the sight spoke to me in the way that things you've only seen in National Geographic can, so the very first pictures I took out of quarantine were of the alley behind my house.
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Then I was out and on the streets of Changwon. I'd really like to say that the whole experience was magical, and really out of this world. And it probably was, but anyone who has read a fairy tale can tell you that when you walk into the Enchanted Forest, things are not quite what they seem. Actually, to be fair to all Enchanted Forests, they are exactly as they seem - to themselves at least. It's the outsider looking in who doesn't know that the apparently normal looking lake will put the unwary bystander to sleep for a hundred years. Their ignorance isn't the lake's fault.
Which is almost exactly how I feel I approached Changwon that first day. I spent probably the first ten minutes walking up and down the street in front of my apartment, slowly inching my way a little farther, and trying not to walk past anyone I'd walked past before. In the process I managed to stroll right past a perfectly normal 7-Eleven without recognizing it for what it was (I'll admit to being somewhat in shock).
I will credit that with some interesting architectural layouts they have here. Because a neat part about my part of Changwon is that everything is kind of stacked together. You can have a line of three houses, and then have a random paint shop tucked in between them. Apparently painting must be a big deal here, because there are paint stores everywhere. Mixed in with the odd daycare and English school.
While I may have missed the 7-Eleven, I was however, alert enough to notice that on many of the intersections there are big round mirrors. These are on the narrower streets, or places where it would be difficult for an oncoming car to see if there are cars coming from either side. At least, that's what I assume their function is. I haven't taken driver's ed here.
At this point I'd gotten to where I was ready to turn around and head back toward my apartment. There was a small park I had passed and I decided it would be nice to cut through and check it out as I came back. It was a neat little park, complete with a swing-set and rock path. As the rain had stopped there were already some kids with their moms and grandmas out playing.
Towards the end of the park there was a bench area, with seats in a U shape. Deciding that going home now would make me a chicken and be a waste of not being quarantined, I sat in the back of the U and watched out at the road and street across from it. It was comfortable, and I was relaxing just a little bit, plugged into a familiar playlist on my phone and enjoying watching instead of being watched.
Or so I thought.
Just a couple songs into my playlist I realized I was no longer alone on the U. Two ajussis (older Korean men, probably 60s?) had come up on the deck and each was seated at a seat on each end or the U, with me towards the back. I already wasn't a fan of the setup, because there was no way to leave without passing in between them, so when the one across from me came forward I carefully took my earbud out and started to stand.
He quickly gestured to sit back down, one I ignored as my spidey-senses tried to get a sense of what was going on. He was smiling, and overall aside from startling me initially didn't seem threatening. His friend to the side of us was watching with amusement, in a "you're an idiot and I wish I didn't know you" kind of way. Keeping a slight smile, I paused, and realized that the kids nearby were still playing, and there were other people around. Slightly more reassured, but not relaxing, I switched gears from "get off the deck and social norms be hung" to "politely make my excuses".
He continued trying to speak to me, and I finally pulled my mask down in frustration, deciding communication was more important than COVID appearances. I almost regret that I did, because the moment I lowered my mask the stench of stale alcohol and beer surrounded me. As someone who's never had a sip of alcohol in her life, the irony of my level of familiarity with it's presence doesn't cease to amaze me. I was actually slightly irritated that I hadn't figured out he was drunk sooner. But I consoled myself with the knowledge that I had also just walked past a 7-Eleven without realizing what it was, so obviously my perceptiveness wasn't on par (I also didn't notice them coming, which wasn't typical either).
After confirming that I was American, and asking me a bunch of questions to which I responded "Hangul, jokum" (little Korean), I decided that it really was time to leave. Drunks won't let you go on their own, and I didn't have the language skills to easily talk my way out of it. So I did what I've done since high school when I needed an excuse to leave. I paused in the middle of talking, as if something had distracted me from our conversation. Then I pulled my phone out of my pocket, pushing the power button so that the screen was lit in case he caught a glimpse of the phone. I glanced down at it and smiled at him apologetically as I lifted it to my ear.
"Hello? Mom? Oh hey!"
Pause for "Mom" to talk.
"Uhuh, sure thing. Just a moment!" I looked over at the ajussi and in the six Korean words I knew said, "It's Mom, so sorry, leaving now."
Bowing regrettably to the two, I scooted past and with a final "Bye!" from him, was dismissed to go home to my mother.
In hindsight, it probably wasn't best to use "Mom" as my excuse. If only because it's pretty suspicious that my American mother would be around with a home that I could get to in a quick walk from the park. Fortunately his inebriation was on my side and if the other gentleman noticed I was lying he didn't do anything about it. But that didn't stop me from carrying a fake conversation with myself in English for the next block until I was sure I was either out of sight, or it had been long enough that if they still cared to look it wouldn't matter.
Now what to do? I felt somewhat invigorated from my little adventure, and decided if I could do that, then I could brave the Korean Market that my teacher friend had told me about. I'd said I would go explore it, and had honestly meant it. But was so overwhelmed by just walking the streets that I had decided to save it for another day. However, having new found confidence, I headed to the little side street two houses down from my apartment and went into its depths.
The closer I got, the more excited I got, until I just had to stop. This was Diagon Alley. Straight out of Harry Potter. I could have been no more delighted than if Hagrid himself had stepped out of nowhere and tapped a couple of bricks to make this place appear. I had zero context for this experience. The farmer's markets of the Midwest can't even compare, so I was entirely unprepared, and was immediately in love. Though still on edge.
To put this entire experience in context (which means this would have been better at the beginning of this post), my preferred form of adventure is covert. If I can blend in, watch, and mingle with the masses, I will do that 100% of the time until I am comfortable enough to do otherwise. As a 5'5'' white woman who's slightly taller than most women, and taller than some of the men, blending in wasn't an option. There was nothing covert about my approach. And those old enough to dictate social norms here (40+) are happy to watch until either their curiosity is satisfied or until they aren't able to watch anymore. Needless to say, the added attention after weeks of only watching left me feeling slightly high strung.
Which is what I'm blaming for the reason that I only have one picture. No worries, I'll be back and will take more, but this is all I have for now. It's massive. I only explored about half of it, and that was without going into any of the little marts that are hidden in there either.
Stepping into Diagon Alley was incredible. The smells, the stalls. The hotteok (fried pancake with hot cinnamon sugar filling), fish sticks, and ddeok (rice cakes), looked amazing. It was probably fortunate that I didn't have any won on me, or I would have found a way to spend it all there. And never fit into my jeans again.
So I satisfied myself with walking. There were branching streets going in and out, and so I stayed on the street I was on, following it out to the end of the market. Just before the market's end were two stalls across from each other teeming with fish. Tanks upon tanks of them. And right at the end, a large round tank with eels swirling around, silver scales glistening as they snapped at those passing by.
It was about then a car squeezed its way down the impossibly narrow street, and I stepped to the side, still reeling from the eels. Needing a moment, I exited the market and stopped to the side by a flower store to catch my bearings. I wasn't sure what the rules were for walking on what side of the street, and so far it seemed there weren't any. But I wasn't trusting of that, and so began to plot out my return. I didn't want to go back the way I'd come, that seemed rude to walk by all those stalls a second time without buying anything. But I wasn't 100% sure if I went around the market that I'd find my apartment agian,
As I was debating all this while pretending to look at a bunch of flowers, a herd of little boys about the ages of 7-10 came walking past me. Immediately there was a slight rumble of "waegukin!" and I grinned a little behind my mask, they didn't know I knew they were talking about me. It was especially useful when the next thing I heard was "woa, yeapo" (she's pretty!). I was still grinning under my mask as they were leaving...and then realized that was probably what the drunk ajussi thought, and my grin turned into one of these deals:
Sighing I decided I had stalled long enough and made my decision. Turning I headed left and started walking down the road, hoping that eventually it would lead to another turn that would take my to the main street where my apartment was. I was a block down (and entirely certain that while everyone else was walking on both sides of the road I was the only one doing it wrong) when I saw another entrance to the market. Relieved I ducked down it, and followed this new trail along towards the center of the market where I had first entered. There were a couple more mentions of "waegukin" from the ladies minding the stalls, but if they weren't saying I was pretty, ugly, they loved me, or wanted to kill me, I had no hope of understanding what they were talking about. One of the many fatal flaws of learning basic Korean through dramas.
Then I was out, sunlight shining down on me, and in a matter of minutes I had left the outside and was comfortably situated in my computer chair a bowl of ramen on the table. I had only been gone an hour according to my clock, which seemed bizarre to me as it felt like I'd been out for the better part of the day. The enchantment analogy felt only too appropriate in that moment as I tried to process all that had happened in such a short space of time.
I hadn't slayed a dragon, or collected any gold. Hadn't defeated an evil villain or freed a nation. But as I watched curls of steam come off the bowl in front of me, I realized that not all dragons are made of flesh and bone.
-Shayla
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