The second week of June, movers arrived at my Seoul apartment and packed up all my material goods minus my summer travel impedimenta. Now the bulk of my current accumulation of chattel roosts in shipping containers while in transit from Seoul to Okinawa. The most recent tracking message received stated that those containers left Busan last week. Meanwhile, I departed Seoul on June 17 and presently reside with my summer travel impedimenta--first in Hawaii and now in Utah.
After living almost five years in Seoul, I will certainly carry forever onward Seoul's imprint on my own soul. Here now are some bits and pieces included in that imprint.
In all honesty, though, a few facets locked into this Seoul imprint I will not miss, so I shall declare them first and be done with them:
- Air quality issues. How much fault belongs to China's catastrophic air pollution woes and the prevailing weather patterns and how much solely to Korea's own issues, I will not debate. Suffice it to say that air quality too often can be problematic. (Check out this website.)
- Winter. Even if I've lived all my life so far in lands with a winter season, Korea takes first place in the MISERABLE category for its multiple weeks of bone-chilling cold with no reprieve whatsoever. When you watch Mash reruns and those characters bemoan the cold, they speak the truth! Ice resulting from a measly inch or two of snow can last for six weeks.
- Spitting. In Korea people spit their sputum onto the sidewalk and streets regularly. I cringe whenever I hear someone cough or clear his/her (yes, females do this, too, especially ones from older generations) throat because almost inevitably the sound of spittle launching will follow. YUCK!
With the negativity now concluded, let me share a glimpse of the Seoul glow I hold within. I will miss so many things!
- My apartment. I loved my apartment. It was my haven.
- My neighborhood, Huam Dong. It has its own street market proffering all manner of goods from shops, stands, the back of trucks, even curbside: fresh fruits and vegetables, spices and red pepper paste, fish (fresh or dried), baked goods, breakfast or lunch or dinner from pots and on sticks, electronics, clothing, even small pieces of furniture. An array of "mom and pop" restaurants within its turf include fare ranging from Korean barbecue to pizza to take-out Thai (YUM!) and Vietnamese (pho is now my comfort food of choice).
- Taking the subway to church on Sunday.
- Crossing the Han River by subway. Because the church is located on the other side of the river from where I lived, I always crossed the Han River on Sunday commutes. Because I took the Sunday commute pretty much weekly, I eventually achieved successful subway snoozer status (one who can snooze but awaken to disembark at the correct station), yet I could not allow snoozing during the river crossing; the crossing became my touchstone moment or something, and I had to witness it fully.
- Opening a refrigerator at church and being assaulted by the pungent aroma of kimchi. Where else can that ever happen?!
- Walking to and from work. Unless it was too wet or too cold or I planned a morning run on post before school or I had too much to carry, I enjoyed commuting to and from work by foot. Two to three times a week became the pattern. My last month in my apartment I ended up walking everywhere or else taking a subway or a cab because I sold my car the day after I listed it for sale--in other words, much more quickly than anticipated!
- My students. No where else have I taught students where so many of them have internalized both the desire to learn and the determination to pursue excellence in what they create and produce.
- "Beauty" shops, the ones catering to personal vanity and presenting even more than one has ever imagined needing or using to be more beautiful--skin care, hair, make-up, etc. They are everywhere, even in the underground passageways of the subway. I especially enjoy the freebies tendered with even the smallest purchase. My personal favorites are Skin Food and Face Shop, but there are surely a dozen more franchises from which to choose. And, from what I understand, Korean beauty products are becoming big sellers in the USA.
- Spring. Korea does it with exquisite loveliness.
- Autumn. Korea does it with exquisite loveliness.
- Ginkgo...especially in autumn. The leaf totally enchants me--a tiny golden fan suspended on a branch or embellishing a car windshield or gilding the sidewalk.
- Robert, my taxi man. In Seoul I actually had Robert's name in my phone contacts, and he had me listed in his! When I called or sent a text, he could always address me by name before I identified myself. After the first time he delivered me to my apartment, he never required directions again to pick me up there. He spoke wonderful English and enjoyed talking culture, politics, religion, whatever. I have kept his number because if I show up in Seoul again to visit, I have a taxi driver at the ready!
- The car wash man at the commissary. On his bike he rides onto post with a bucket, cloths, and brushes. Enlist his service before one enters the commissary, and when one returns to the car with groceries in tow--voila, clean car. By the end of my sojourn in Seoul, he knew me and my car well. The last time he washed my car, he did it on his own volition. He recognized my car in the parking lot and washed it while I was inside the commissary without me even being aware that he was there that day. Because my car had been quite dirty (Seoul has dirty precipitation--air quality issues, remember), I noticed immediately that it was clean. Momentarily confused, I then spotted the car wash man about to leave the parking lot at the far exit. I was able to catch him and offer him payment, but he smiled and shook his head no. At that moment, I didn't realize that it would also be the last time for the car to be washed while I owned it. Still, such a sweet ending.
- My cleaning lady. I have never before had a cleaning lady. Somehow she came with the rent; I never paid her up front. How marvelous to never have to clean a shower comprised of tile and glass and yet have it remain in pristine condition.
- Mr. Joe, the car insurance man. "If you have a situation or an accident, call me first, then the MPs!" I never had to call him for anything more than a dead battery when I returned from summer break, and then he sent a mechanic on a motorcycle right to my car in the underground parking garage of my apartment building.
- My landlord and the security man at my apartment building. Traditionally Korean men have a rather dictatorial reputation. How true that still is, I don't know, but I do know that both of those men took excellent care of me and my needs in that apartment for almost five years. Neither spoke much English at all, I speak very little Korean, and so we communicated with smiles, gestures, and a translating intermediary if more lengthy spoken communication was necessary. I think they were one of God's gifts to me.
