As a final thought about my time I Korea, I thought I would share an account of how Ann underwent a change of looks, so we could look like twins. (I am just kidding, but the results were uncanny and the Koreans at her school and those at the salon surely thought we bore a strong resemblance.) When I arrived in Korea, Ann had beautiful, long, blonde hair, which was radiant but not altogether the style befitting my outdoorsy and no-nonsense friend. Since her hair had grown quite long, she aimed to donate it liked she had in high school to locks of love, so my coming was quite timely in that I promised to take her hair and mail it to locks of love upon arrival in the States. Yes, that means that I have two ponytails of blonde locks in my carry on case. It may be a bit strange but rather noble on both our parts in my opinion ☺
With her Korean co-worker to translate and a human model (yours truly) to look at, Ann’s hair was guaranteed to have great success. Perms are all the rage in Korea and are quite affordable. For a professional haircut and perm, she paid less than 40 dollars! Apparently, she has been waiting since childhood to have short, curly hair. Who knows why people are always fascinated by that which they do not naturally possess. God knows I would not be disposed to wanting unruly curly hair if I could have the thick and straight tresses that Ann wore so wonderfully before this drastic change. After the cut and perm, I dare say we looked as close to twins as any two distinct people could possibly get. We had a good laugh over the whole event.
Finally, my last day was like a whirlwind. Ann had so lovingly fixed an itinerary for my sojourn into her world, writing that my departure was on Wednesday. I did not think twice about the veracity of the itinerary, so in my mind, I was leaving on Wednesday. On Tuesday, I planned to have lunch with Ann at a local kimbop shop (a small restaurant that specializes in making kimbop, which literally means seaweed and rice, so kind of like sushi but made with any mixture of pickled vegetables, imitation crab, tuna, pressed fish, and salad, which actually tastes quite nice) then return to school with her and spend the afternoon with her students. While waiting for Ann to arrive, I opened my planner and saw that I had written in Tuesday’s box “Return to the Philippines.” I had a minor freak out, confirming on my e-itinerary that I was in fact scheduled to depart at 9:30 pm that night! My plans to visit a Korean friend in Seoul the next day were dashed, as were Ann’s and my plans to have a relaxing night of exchanging music, pictures and final observations about life, etc. Thankfully, I was able to rearrange my schedule with only a few unfortunate rearrangements.
After a fun question and answer time with her two classes of adorable six year old students (seven years old in Korea), I returned to her apartment to pack and transfer some songs onto a flash drive for her to keep. I was keeping pretty good time although I was still distracted by the abruptness of the change. I left the house in a rush, however, because time always seems to go exponentially faster as you near the appointed deadline. I almost forgot my blanket, but returned with enough time to snatch it and get back on the road. (I ended up leaving my running tights, so she will have to send those to me when she gets back to the States in May.)
All was fine as I jauntily traversed the sidewalks that led to the bus station. Now here is where it gets interesting. There are two bus stations next to one another. I was certain of which bus station I must take; so I strode confidently to the counter to purchase my ticket in short order. Surprisingly, she told me that I needed to exit, take a left and cross the street. This is where I damn my sense of direction. I was so flustered with the lack of time to be going through this reorientation that I literally crossed the street and stood for a while at the bus stop until my good senses told me I was doing something foolish. But I had wasted enough time that by the time I had recovered and had one of the attendants point me in the direction of the very bus station I had passed and was confident was not the right one for me.
I ran or rather waddled as fast as I could to the station (I had my huge backpack, a large purse full of food for my friends in the Philippines and a messenger bag that was swinging wildly about me), only to see the bus I needed pull out. Still, I held out hope that I would find another bus to take me to the airport. (You see, I was about 2.5 hours away from the airport, so I did not have a lot of lag time to dawdle.) I must have looked half-crazed when I arrived at the line of buses. Someone reached out to me and asked me what was probably: “Where are you going?” At least, that is how I interpreted it and answered, “Incheon Airport.” All they heard was “Incheon” and ushered me onto a bus going to the town of Incheon. Since I was so harried, I thought I had actually gotten on the right bus, but when I tried to confirm that I was destined for the airport, I got a negative reply. At this point, I could not keep the furrows out of my brow because I had no idea what I would do upon arrival at the bus station in Incheon. I had a limited amount of Korean Won and even more gravely a limited amount of time to get my plane.
The bus driver and I think the whole bus knew I needed to get to the airport because I yelped a few times when I saw the bus I needed right in front of me. Well, imagine my surprise when I saw that my bus driver was trying to get the other bus’s attention to see if it would stop so I could get on. It felt like a movie chase. Hope in me swelled, but when the other bus did not stop, I figured I needed to calm down and trust that God would give me the wisdom I needed to find the correct connection once the bus arrived in Incheon. After about 45 minutes, the bus pulled over and I was a bit confused until someone who knew basic English explained to me that the bus driver had phoned another bus driver whose destination was the airport and had asked this other bus driver to stop his bus so I could get on! I was amazed and so thankful. I must have really looked pathetic that the bus driver had so much mercy on me! I was so blessed by this development.
So, not only did I get to the airport with plenty of time, but I had an extra 10,000 Won in my pocket (the equivalent of 10 bucks), which was enough to fill my tummy with some delicious pastries, a hot chocolate, soy milk, and Korean cookies. Good to the last drop!
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