Nightride: Part One

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all the familiar comforts of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things — air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky. All things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.” – Cesare Pavese

 

2020/7/04

The bus ride from the airport in Seoul seemed like an eternity (an established precedent for this trip). Though I had slept for roughly 8 hours on the plane, this didn't mean my body wasn't in constant confusion from the jet lag. It almost felt as if someone had told my body up was down and down was up, and it was madly trying to reorient itself, while I desperately tried to function inside of it.

The bus was one of those that had two seats on one side, then one seat on the other. Looking at my options I decided that of all the firsts I'd experienced today, voluntarily socializing in a new country was not going to be one of them. I settled into one of the single seats and was grateful that it looked like there would only be a few of us. The driver and his helpers moved around the bus making sure the baggage underneath was secured, their white PPE standing out in the dwindling twilight. 

My friend DG had told me that I should try to sleep on the bus. This was after making sure I had his number to call him if there were any emergencies, and then reminding me that just because I didn't have a way to call him, didn't mean I couldn't find someone who else who could. It was incredibly logical, and I was amazed I hadn't thought of it when he first sent me his number. 

It was easy to think to myself that emotionally I was in a good place. No panicking, some exhaustion, clear thinking.  And while the first two were true, I was worried that the clear thinking was a false perception. I should have thought of having someone call DG or L in case of an emergency on my own. This whole thing reeked with the same false sense of security that I'd had taking tests at college. I just prayed the rest of my experience stayed multiple choice and didn't end in a ten point written section.

Finally the bus pulled away from the airport and I eyed the clock, too wired to sleep. It was a quarter to 8PM. According to the train schedule DG had sent me, the next train to Changwon was at 8:56PM. The bus would take about an hour to get us to the KTX station, and so it would be tight getting on that next bus. The one after that wasn't until almost 10PM and with a few hours on the train, I hoped to get there sooner rather than later.

When we left the terminal we'd also left the WiFi, and so I lost connection with my small support group. I pulled out my headphones and continued my fight to find a comfortable position in my seat. Finally settling for "not sleep worthy but good for now" I stared out the bus, watching the sun dwindling around the buildings of the airport. It was comforting in its own way. Big clear spaces to make plenty of room for the planes, maintenance buildings, just like all the other large airports I'd been to. After a little bit I pulled up my phone and started working through the Majong puzzle I'd been working on. 

I was a few rounds in when I heard a banging sound from underneath us in the luggage compartment, then the familiar drag of the bus slowing down. We pulled in next to a large official looking building and the driver got out and started opening the luggage compartments, and for a moment it looked like I was right about the noise. But then they started to open all the compartments, and people started to trickle out of the building. Looking at the clock we'd only been driving for about fifteen minutes, so I doubted we were at the train station. But I'd be delighted if I was wrong. 

Then my phone lit up, and I saw I had a notification from DG. Looking at my Wifi I realized I was connected back to the airport WiFi. Suddenly suspicious, I looked out the window and I watched as a people started to leave the building, a small trickle that turned into a stream. Then their bags were getting loaded into the bus. As they got on, my hopes for making the earlier train got off. We were still at the airport. 

Three little boys filed onto the bus among the other passengers, and the oldest boy ushered them into the seats behind me. He couldn't have been much older than 8, but he sat the middle boy (about 4 or 5 I imagine), in the aisle seat and then pulled the toddler onto his lap. It was smoothly done, and clearly the seating was strategic. Apparently even toddlers in Korea were flight risks. 

As if he knew what I was thinking, the toddler turned toward me, wide-eyed and unsmiling. At least, I assumed he wasn't smiling. His mask made it difficult to tell. I practiced my "eye smile", but he didn't respond. I couldn't blame him though. He was from a country that was 98% homogeneous, so my presence on the bus was probably taking some extra processing. It was about at that point that I realized while he could stare all he liked, I wasn't a toddler anymore and so had social norms to respect. I turned back to the front of the bus. 

The bus vibrated as the luggage doors were closed and the driver got into his seat. Then we were leaving for real this time. Hoping for a way to help the time pass I tried to sleep. Nothing I did was successful. The combination of my mask, the light in the bus, and just total exhaustion made it too difficult to get comfortable. So instead I looked out the window, and watched as the world around me began to shift.

The deeper we went, the less English there was. The noses of the cars were rounder, less ridged then cars in the US. The changes were subtle, and I caught myself grinning like mad as it started to dawn on me that I was actually here. Not just in an airport, not just passing through. But I was here, in South Korea. The utter madness of the whole thing made me want to laugh out loud. But madness is best kept private, so I satisfied myself with a little huff of glee. 

Forty minutes of bus travel to go. Comforting myself that this was really the shortest part of this entire trip, I stretched and shifted in my seat. As I did I caught a glimpse of the little boys behind me and I stole a quick peek. They were all 100% out. How, I'm not sure, as it didn't look at all comfortable, but they'd done it. It was an adorable, but frustrating sight. I really wished I was sleeping. 

A glance at my phone presented another dilemma. My battery was at 40%, and past experience taught me that the last 40% always goes faster than the first 40% did, and I still had four hours of traveling to go. I plugged it into my power pack, wishing I had thought to recharge it while I was at the airport. I had written down everything in case something happened to my phone, but I couldn't risk not being able to contact L if something were to go wrong. Deciding painful boredom was better than being stranded without a phone, I turned off my music and put my phone away.

I don't really remember what happened the last little stretch. Just growing numbness and exhaustion. When we finally pulled up to the train station I was grateful. Everyone was in a consolidated rush to get their bags and I pulled from their energy. The drivers didn't help get the bags, aside from opening the doors, which puzzled me. I had had unparalleled customer service since coming here, and this was something offered in the states. Then I remembered that I was supposedly a COVID carrier, and so anything I owned was also suspect of contamination. They had reason to be cautious, considering how many people they had to interact with.

We however couldn't be bothered with it. Maybe it was something about being assumed contaminated that made us more reckless. Whatever the thought process truly was, I was grateful because it meant someone was brave enough to grab the Purple Monster (my largest roll bag) and haul it out for me. Then I had everything together, duffel bag on the Purple Monster, backpack on, and Mini Monster rolling along beside. We shuffled into the train station, and through collective effort got everyone and our bags into the elevator. 

Following the signs that lined the walls we made it to the ticket office. That was when panic started to creep in. E had told me that the train station was where I would pay for both the bus fare and the train ticket. My Credit Union had assured me that my card would work just fine internationally, and they knew I was leaving the country and so wouldn't freeze my card. There was really no reason for it not to work. Except Murphy's Law. I knew well from experience that it does what it wants, and I wasn't 100% positive my preparations were going to be enough. 

Trying to distract myself, I checked my phone and realized that I hadn't connected to the internet yet. I thought I had done everything to connect to the station's WiFi but evidently I had missed something. If something happened and I needed to contact my boss I might not be able to (already forgetting DG's counsel). Closing my eyes I took as deep a breath as the mask allowed. It would be okay. She had texted me the name of the station I would be going to, and asked that I send her a ticket once I got it. If I bought the wrong ticket I'd find a way to contact her, then she'd tell me and I would get it switched out. Plus I'd verified how it was spelled in Korean, and felt pretty confident I could work that out on my own if I needed to. If the card didn't work...I shook my head. No, the card would work. There wasn't another option except for it to work. 

Then I was at the ticket booth telling the ticket teller the name of my station. The way she repeated it back to me let me know there's something about how I was saying it that's not quite right, but at least we both were talking about the same place. She pulled out a calculator, typed out a number and showed it to me. "Good?" She asks. I nodded a little nervously and handed her my card. We were about to find out if we were really "good". My card sat in the reader for a literal age and when she turned to me I expected her to be shaking her head, my useless card in hand. But instead she was holding a pen and a receipt, finger pointing at where she needed my signature. Sighing I scribbled down my signature, took my card, and got out of the way.  

There were two tables marking a check point before boarding the train. One was abandoned, obviously closed for the day. It was also the one that had "Foreigner" written above it in big letters. Looking at the other station with "한국" written about it, I paused, not quite sure what to do. One of the workers saw me, and waved me over. I could tell he was smiling, but I felt a pang of sympathy as I realized it might be more unfortunate for him than me that the foreigner table was closed. But with plenty of smiles, "ums", arm waving, and the occasional grasp at his PPE protected hair, he had me through all the documents and directed to a seat. 

Finally sitting with the end in sight, I directed my attention to the next problem - communication. There were several WiFi options, so I started clicking through them trying to decipher the Korean instructions while having an internal dialogue about how this was not practicing good cyber security. About my third cycle through I saw one had an "English" option in the top right had corner. I clicked on it, and immediately had to resist the urge to chuck my phone across the station. Apparently the only thing I'd needed to do was click on the big "WiFi" button in the middle of the screen. But since destroying my phone defeated the purpose of the whole exercise, I practiced restraint and quickly messaged L the picture of the train ticket before heading to the restroom.

Hiding in the stall I slipped my mask off and took a few deep breaths. Any other day the idea of going to the bathroom for a breath of fresh air would have been laughable, but in a country that wasn't mine, with rules I didn't quite understand, this was what I felt I could do. The air was crisp from the AC and my mind began to clear. Just four more hours. I could make it four more hours. This would be nothing. 

A little regretfully I secured the mask back in place, and went back out to wait. My messages had updated while I was gone, and I worked my way through them. MRRS was somewhat quiet as it would be the early morning 4th of July and most were still sleeping. DG however was still going strong. 

Did you make it to the train station?

Feeling probably more confident than I should have, I took a picture of the train tracks through the glass, and sent it to him. I don't know, what does it look like?

Hmm...Yes maybe. Is there any staff near you?

Realizing my sarcasm might have missed its mark, I quickly sent a hopefully clarifying response. Yes, there are people helping with the train and tickets. Some police officers and someone was there to help finish my documents. Between his English and my very very little Korean we got it figured out. 

There was a slightly concerned pause, then he responded. I can talk with someone. Tell them my phone number and they can call me...

Suspicions confirmed. Lol, I'm in the right spot. Here's the ticket....sorry...I must be too tired to tease... :D

Hahaha. It's okay. Wow, 1 AM arrival. You're going to be tired. 

Oh gosh...is it possible to be more tired? 

Haha, you can sleep on the train.

Considering my level of exhaustion and how the bus ride had been, I seriously doubted it. I put the phone down and closed my eyes. I was almost there. I could make it. I was grateful I still felt somewhat alert. It was probably the "which way is up" feeling from the jet lag weirdly pulling for me. If my body thought it was 8AM and time to be awake I wouldn't complain. There would be a more convenient time to have that conversation. Ideally once I had a bed. 

The next train was announced and passengers gathered in front of the glass doors that opened onto the overhead bridge over the tracks. My paperwork friend had said they would announce the train ten minutes before, and it was still forty minutes before I was supposed to leave. One of the police officers came over and I showed him my ticket. He nodded, gesturing for me to stay seated. Glad that I knew that much, I checked my phone again.

35% battery. The charge from my power pack had helped, but it was mostly dead when I had started using it. I knew what this meant, and the remaining hours of travel seemed to tunnel out in front of me into a spiral of exhaustion and numbness. I was going to make it. I could do this. This was going to be the easiest part.

I waited for my train. 

-Shayla

To be continued...