Subway
I am off to see a friend from high school who lives in Gubeundari. The bus takes me to the subway station, and I'm late catching the first train of the trip. No problem. I wait ten minutes, and another train comes. It is a little crowded as I board. Everyone is headed towards Seoul and its environs. Glancing up and down the car, the realization comes that I am the only foreigner.
At Sangbong, I get off to transfer. This is when the first mistake happens. My Subway app tells me to get on the green line going towards Myeonmok. I find some tracks that have Myeonmok written in small letters, Sangbong in big letters, and Junghwa in smaller letters next to that. Great, this is exactly what I want. This whole subway thing is so easy.
About five minutes later, we pull into Junghwa. I check my map and realize this is not the direction I want to be going. Just before the doors close, I jump off. I need to get back to Sangbong. How do I do that? I can see the people on the other side of the tracks, but not the way over there. Stairs come into view and I take them two at a time. Then it's down another two flight of stairs before I reach the platform for Sangbong. The train takes a long time to come. Finally, the bells sound and the doors open. As I board, I suddenly realize that the first word on the train is where the train just came from, the middle one is where it is, and the third one is where it is going. Brilliant. My enthusiasm is a little dampened by the fact that I am now going to be ten or fifteen minutes late getting to Gubeundari, but I continue on to Gunja with confidence.
At Gunja, I have to switch to the purple line. It's a long walk from one side of the station to the other and there are a lot of stairs, escalators, and stores selling face wash, electronics, or bread. I am suddenly struck by how many people there are next to me going up the stairs. All of them are thinking their own thoughts, heading different directions, experiencing life at the same time as me, yet in their own unique way. The thought is so distracting that I almost miss the stairs for my train and have to make a sudden turn. I don't think the guy behind me appreciated this move on my part, even though it felt very Korean.
On the Gunja train, I find a seat and settle down to wait for the next five stops. I'll be getting to Gubeundari fifteen minutes late, but at least I'll be there. In my car, there are several older men who all look as though they are going hiking. One of them accidentally hits me with his bag and bobs his head to say sorry. When we reach Gangdong, I am excited. Only two more stops until Gubeundari.
Two stops later we are pulling into the Olympic Park station, and I realize I've made another mistake. I jump off again and frantically try to discover where I went wrong. I was supposed to take the purple line. Okay, I did that. I was supposed to go through Gangdong. Okay, I did that. I was supposed to go towards Gil-dong. Hmmmm. Looking at the map, I suddenly see that the purple line splits into two parts, one going going up, the other going down. I had taken the one going down towards Dunchon-dong and the Olympic Park instead of transferring at Gangdong to the one going up towards Gild-dong. Great. My Subway app said nothing about this.
When I get back to Gangdong, I find some tracks marked for Gil-dong and slide onto the bus as the doors begin to hiss. By this time, I am very late, hungry, and not even sure my friend will still be waiting for me. My phone can't make calls yet, the wifi isn't working, and I forgot to bring her number with me. I dread playing the foreigner-can't-use-the-subway-without-getting-lost card, but what else am I going to say? North Korea attacked my train?
One stop later, the sign in the train flashes for Dunchon-dong. Wait, what? I just came from Dunchon-dong. How did I make another mistake? My frustration begins to build. I get out and look at the train again. It clearly says Gil-dong on the side. Oh, wait. It says Dunchon-dong too. Why? Now I have to go back to Gangdong again. I wait for the train for a while, leaning up against a white column."This is so confusing," I say. The column is Korean and doesn't have the opportunity to attend English academy, so I doubt it understands me.
In Gangdong, I scour the signs for Gil-dong and find it again, except it is right next to Dunchon-dong, a place I have no desire to return to. All of this makes no sense, so I go into a little snack shop to find help. A little Korean lady greats me as I come in.
"Annyong haseyo," I say. I show her my Subway app, point to the tracks, and ask, "Gil-dong?"
"Gil-dong?" she says back. Her "Gil" is much harder than mine. I nod and she says something in Korean that I don't understand. She waves me over to the tracks, where she examines a little map before stepping back and glancing at the screen above us. She points to it, and says, "Gil-dong." As we wait for the train, I realize that there are some trains that go to Gil-dong, and others to Dunchon-dong, but they use the same stop and the same purple line, so I have to check the screens to see which one is coming into the stop. The words on the train won't tell me that. When the train comes, my snack shop lady waves me on, smiling, and I do a little bow back to her.
I reach Gubeundari two stops later. It is raining, and I'm more than an hour late for my meet-up. Gubeundari looks a lot like Guri, but I don't want to say it was all for nothing, so I walk around and try to find some food. Everything near me is full of gluten or sugar from what I can tell, and I'm getting wet, so I decide to head home, feeling like a failure.
The ride back is much shorter than the way there. I have a feeling of deja vu when I see more old men with walking sticks. Two stops from home, a little Korean lady touches me on the shoulder and asks me if I am a student. She then carries on a full conversation with me in English and tells me I look like the actress Natalie Wood. "Only, much more beautiful," she says. "Your students, I think, enjoy you very much." I tell her I hope they do. She tells me all about her trips to America, and how much she enjoyed Virginia and New York. When I ask her about New York, she says she watched The Phantom of the Opera. "It was very beautiful, but I dozed. There was too much for me to understand." Before I get off, she tells me to enjoy my stay and that she hopes the best for me.
I learned a lot. First, always check to make sure the subway line doesn't split in two different directions. Second, learn how to ask directions in Korea. Third, the subway is a good place to have unexpectedly encouraging conversations.
At Sangbong, I get off to transfer. This is when the first mistake happens. My Subway app tells me to get on the green line going towards Myeonmok. I find some tracks that have Myeonmok written in small letters, Sangbong in big letters, and Junghwa in smaller letters next to that. Great, this is exactly what I want. This whole subway thing is so easy.
About five minutes later, we pull into Junghwa. I check my map and realize this is not the direction I want to be going. Just before the doors close, I jump off. I need to get back to Sangbong. How do I do that? I can see the people on the other side of the tracks, but not the way over there. Stairs come into view and I take them two at a time. Then it's down another two flight of stairs before I reach the platform for Sangbong. The train takes a long time to come. Finally, the bells sound and the doors open. As I board, I suddenly realize that the first word on the train is where the train just came from, the middle one is where it is, and the third one is where it is going. Brilliant. My enthusiasm is a little dampened by the fact that I am now going to be ten or fifteen minutes late getting to Gubeundari, but I continue on to Gunja with confidence.
At Gunja, I have to switch to the purple line. It's a long walk from one side of the station to the other and there are a lot of stairs, escalators, and stores selling face wash, electronics, or bread. I am suddenly struck by how many people there are next to me going up the stairs. All of them are thinking their own thoughts, heading different directions, experiencing life at the same time as me, yet in their own unique way. The thought is so distracting that I almost miss the stairs for my train and have to make a sudden turn. I don't think the guy behind me appreciated this move on my part, even though it felt very Korean.
On the Gunja train, I find a seat and settle down to wait for the next five stops. I'll be getting to Gubeundari fifteen minutes late, but at least I'll be there. In my car, there are several older men who all look as though they are going hiking. One of them accidentally hits me with his bag and bobs his head to say sorry. When we reach Gangdong, I am excited. Only two more stops until Gubeundari.
Two stops later we are pulling into the Olympic Park station, and I realize I've made another mistake. I jump off again and frantically try to discover where I went wrong. I was supposed to take the purple line. Okay, I did that. I was supposed to go through Gangdong. Okay, I did that. I was supposed to go towards Gil-dong. Hmmmm. Looking at the map, I suddenly see that the purple line splits into two parts, one going going up, the other going down. I had taken the one going down towards Dunchon-dong and the Olympic Park instead of transferring at Gangdong to the one going up towards Gild-dong. Great. My Subway app said nothing about this.
When I get back to Gangdong, I find some tracks marked for Gil-dong and slide onto the bus as the doors begin to hiss. By this time, I am very late, hungry, and not even sure my friend will still be waiting for me. My phone can't make calls yet, the wifi isn't working, and I forgot to bring her number with me. I dread playing the foreigner-can't-use-the-subway-without-getting-lost card, but what else am I going to say? North Korea attacked my train?
One stop later, the sign in the train flashes for Dunchon-dong. Wait, what? I just came from Dunchon-dong. How did I make another mistake? My frustration begins to build. I get out and look at the train again. It clearly says Gil-dong on the side. Oh, wait. It says Dunchon-dong too. Why? Now I have to go back to Gangdong again. I wait for the train for a while, leaning up against a white column."This is so confusing," I say. The column is Korean and doesn't have the opportunity to attend English academy, so I doubt it understands me.
In Gangdong, I scour the signs for Gil-dong and find it again, except it is right next to Dunchon-dong, a place I have no desire to return to. All of this makes no sense, so I go into a little snack shop to find help. A little Korean lady greats me as I come in.
"Annyong haseyo," I say. I show her my Subway app, point to the tracks, and ask, "Gil-dong?"
"Gil-dong?" she says back. Her "Gil" is much harder than mine. I nod and she says something in Korean that I don't understand. She waves me over to the tracks, where she examines a little map before stepping back and glancing at the screen above us. She points to it, and says, "Gil-dong." As we wait for the train, I realize that there are some trains that go to Gil-dong, and others to Dunchon-dong, but they use the same stop and the same purple line, so I have to check the screens to see which one is coming into the stop. The words on the train won't tell me that. When the train comes, my snack shop lady waves me on, smiling, and I do a little bow back to her.
I reach Gubeundari two stops later. It is raining, and I'm more than an hour late for my meet-up. Gubeundari looks a lot like Guri, but I don't want to say it was all for nothing, so I walk around and try to find some food. Everything near me is full of gluten or sugar from what I can tell, and I'm getting wet, so I decide to head home, feeling like a failure.
The ride back is much shorter than the way there. I have a feeling of deja vu when I see more old men with walking sticks. Two stops from home, a little Korean lady touches me on the shoulder and asks me if I am a student. She then carries on a full conversation with me in English and tells me I look like the actress Natalie Wood. "Only, much more beautiful," she says. "Your students, I think, enjoy you very much." I tell her I hope they do. She tells me all about her trips to America, and how much she enjoyed Virginia and New York. When I ask her about New York, she says she watched The Phantom of the Opera. "It was very beautiful, but I dozed. There was too much for me to understand." Before I get off, she tells me to enjoy my stay and that she hopes the best for me.
I learned a lot. First, always check to make sure the subway line doesn't split in two different directions. Second, learn how to ask directions in Korea. Third, the subway is a good place to have unexpectedly encouraging conversations.
Wow!!!!
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