Mr. Cabdriver, I'm a Survivor

I awaken this morning to the dulcet tones of my son, Kael, greeting me as he does each day. "Mom? Mom?" Except he's half a world away. I turn on the computer moments later and open email to discover that, at the precise moment I heard his voice, he was typing me a message. It's true that neither time nor space can separate us from those we hold most dear.

We have some business to attend to today. We are to meet with the Head Teacher at the Language Education Centre, deal with the camera crisis, and determine the lay of the land, so as to facilitate easy movement while on and off campus. With 37,000 students at Chonnam National University and a population of 1.4 million in Gwangju, it behooves us to do figure out the geography.

While many people take breakfast at the local toast vendor, where for about $1.50 Canadian you get an fluffy Denver omelette, we opt for a quick bite at home. Rob rustles up some coffee and fruit salad with fresh grapes, pineapple, and Korean melon topped with yogurt and all-bran and then we're off and running. I laugh aloud as I ponder how I'll ever manage to fit work into my schedule again when I seem to have such a jam-packed schedule while on holiday! True to my German roots, I've managed to create a strict schedule wherein I must spend every moment of down-time scrubbing, organizing, and planning. Idle hands are the devil's playthings, and all that.

At noon, we hook up with Head Teacher Scott. He reminds me of the actor Paul Bettany, who is married to Jennifer Connelly and has been in such films as The DaVinci Code and Master and Commander. A native of Toronto, this 30-something has been living in Korea for the last seven years. He says he honestly can't imagine moving "home." Scott is a rockstar in Gwangju. Everywhere we go he's greeted with reverance. The teachers have been on a one-week break, so Scott is free this afternoon. He offers to show us how to get around the city.

The first order of business is the creation of a sheet of helpful phrases to use with cab drivers. Scott dutifully lists them in Korean and English. Scott is fluently bilingual having taught himself the language in about four hours. He says it's basic memorization, and then mixing and matching. Uh huh. This guidesheet will prove handy for it's much easier to get around by cab than by bus. Also, the cabs are dirt cheap; a ride that would cost about 20 dollars at home costs 4 dollars here.

We head to the six story tech-heaven hangout Geumho (Kumho) World to see if they can fix our camera. We are directed to the Canon store across town. The camera can be fixed, but there's no estimate, and it'll take two weeks. Since I'm going into withdrawl without one of my most important appendages, we decide to suck it up and buy a camera. Blogging is great, but visual documentation is central to this traveler's experience. I've already seen dozens of sights that, while noted mentally, have not been committed to a, perhaps more permanent, mode of storage. We scan the nearby massive underground shopping complex, and then taxi to EMart.

EMart, like Home Plus, is a mega-department store teaming with rushing crowds. Scott guides us through the various sections, taking care to point out the importance of double-checking whether we're buying water or soju, which is paint-peeler vodka. The bottles are the same price (sometimes the vodka is cheaper), they look identical, and they're side-by-side. We also note the miles of Barbie-sized clothing. Try as they might, clerks have difficulty outfitting us. I recall a similar situation with a street vendor the other day in which she was determined to find me a T-shirt. She mimed out my need for a very large shirt, held her biggest one up to her child-like frame, then handed it to me. When I held it up, she recognized I would need to stitch three together just to cover my bosom. She shook her head, and resigned herself to the fact that it was a no go.

By some miracle of God, we manage to pick up two official Korean football/soccer shirts to wear on the first day of classes (we're not above patently obvious ingratiating stunts) and then we're back in a cab. It's astonishing how fast these cars cut through traffic. Despite the autobahn speeds on city streets, Scott says he's only witnessed a couple of accidents since he's been here. Perhaps the relative safety can be attributed to the enormous mirrors atop posts at intersections. As we whiz along, we notice gas stations with attendants in teal coloured cowboy outfits and bright red hats, and car washes at which the stalls move to pick up cars. These stalls operate in the same way as those at parking lots: the car pulls in and is shifted into location via a platform. It's the kind of idiot proofing that drivers like me can get behind. In the midst of the crazy traffic, we see an older woman serenely pedalling her pink bicycle, immune to her surroundings.

Near the Chonnam University main gate we repair to a bulgogi (Korean barbeque) restaurant for an outstanding meal of pork and numerous fixings which Scott capably conjures up at the table. Every so often, an attendant comes by to replace the grill with a fresh one, or to add water to the reservoir surrounding the pot of hot coals immediately beneath the wooden table. We learn the wisdom in the packaging of the individual leaves of lettuce. These leaves are used like wrappers in which we place small pieces of meat, rice, bean sprouts, a marvelous pale green radish, and various other tidbits. The bill for three hardy Canadians comes to a modest 23,000 won, or under 20-dollars Canadian. At home, this would easily have been double the price. I almost feel guilty for Scott tells us the won has been in freefall against the Canadian dollar. On the other hand, for once we seem to be on the winning side of a fiscal situation, and I'm grateful for it.

After dinner, we are shown the local acupuncturist's office. In what is surely the tip of the day, Scott tells us of this angel with pins who can heal all ills. For $6.50 Canadian, we can have an acupuncture treatment followed by a massage. This doctor is extremely accomplished, and very popular, so we decide we'd do well to check him out while in town.

As we get ready for bed, I remind myself of my promise not to turn a vacation into a work project. I can't help but think of the notebook I purchased on my first day in Gwangju. A woman in a shop handed it to me, and I have to think there's a greater message in this gesture. The notebook features a cheery scene with flowers and ribbons dancing in a soft breeze. The expression on it is: Happiness does not come from doing easy work, but from the afterglow of satisfaction that comes after the achievement of a difficult task that demanded our best. Food for thought.

*Mr. Cabdriver, I'm a Survivor is a nod to Lenny Kravitz' song of the same name.