KMK: I’m Waiting for Someone to Die

Editor’s Note: Don Immigrated to the US in 1972 at the age of six. Waiting to retire in a small village in Korea.

About a year ago, I visited Korea in hopes of finding the perfect Korean village to retire in. I had been searching on Google Earth many nights before embarking on my trip to Korea. I found a small village West of Daejeon.

I printed out a satellite photo of the area and flew 24 hours to get to Daejeon. From there I hailed a taxi and showed the driver the photo and asked him to take me here, pointing to the picture. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his late 50’s. He asked me what was the name of the village. I told him I did not know, that was his job. He looked at the photo again and said, “This looks like a satellite photo” obviously in Korean, kinda of looking at me suspiciously, like I might be a North Korean spy. I pointed to the gateway entry into the city and asked if he knew how to get there, he said yes and so we went. Upon reaching the gateway, he said this was it, I looked around, we were closer, but it was in the middle of a major freeway! I pointed again to the other side of the underpass and asked if he could take me there? He then said, “It’s going to cost you a lot of money, wouldn’t you be better off asking a friend or relative to drive you there during a weekend?”

I know he was just trying to help me out, but considering that the dollar was trading at close to 1,400/1, and the base cab fare was $1.10, I really did’t care. I again pointed to a lake and he finally realized where and how to get there. Just 30 minutes away and I would experience a dream. After driving through some winding roads and passing country rice fields that were being prepared to plant, I started to get the feeling that I was heading in the right direction. The driver then told me that we were here, obviously he wasn’t going to wait for me, so I asked him to drop me off at a bus stop that would take me back into town.

I started walking up a hill and saw a neighborhood store, just opening up as it was still early in the morning in the “Land of the Morning Calm”. To the right, I noticed a park with built in exercise equipment, this is a most wonderful amenity that the US should adopt as soon as possible in all parks. Free gym membership! I decided to get some morning exercise as it was still very early. Twenty minutes went by, didn’t meet a single person, so I again headed up the hill. I soon came to a new multi-storied building in this remote village, wondering why they would have built it as it was oddly placed.

As I approached, I could make out that it was some kind of welcome center/museum. I then noticed a group of elderly men burning leaves and approached them to inquire about the place. I couldn’t help but to feel an sense of peace and lapsing back into childhood memories as the smell of the burning leaves filled the misty morning air. Of coursed they look at me with intrepidation as I stood out like a sore thumb walking up to them. When I greeted them and started inquiring about the place in my broken Korean, they seemed more interested and soon a couple of other men joined in wanting to hear what the conversation was.

Of course I was asking about how it was living here and if they had been living here for a long time. Most of them nodded their heads and just agreed to what was being asked. I then inquired if they knew of any houses for sale? Then one of the men shook his head like there really wasn’t any or he didn’t know, I couldn’t quite tell. (I later on found out that others were also interested in living in this small quaint village and there is a waiting list!) I then noticed a crooked path of steep steps going up the side of the mountain. I asked if it was okay for me to go up and they said yes, letting me know that there was a gazebo at the top. I bid them well and starting climbing up the mountain. I soon realized that I was out of breath after climbing about 200 yards, but more concerned as I had another 300 yards to climb. As I looked out to the side, I could see the lake through the trees that had attracted me to this place from Google Earth back at home in Texas on my computer screen.

I could see the play ground of a school yard and the steeple of a church. Soon as I approached the top, I saw the gazebo and entered in by taking a few steps. I could now see the whole village and the road that lead to the bus stop where I had been dropped off a couple hours ago. After spending about a half-hour just enjoying the tranquility of it all, continued on the path. It took me deeper and deeper into the woods. As I was walking along, I could now hear what sounded like buzzing of chain saws.

I continued on as I noticed that some of the trees were still naked without leaves. Others were evergreens, some pines and still others with brown patches of falling leaves. The sound of the chain saws started getting louder and I could hear a couple of men yelling to each other, coordinating what tree needed to be cut next. They were moving some trees that had fallen on the path and clearing it out. I gave them a nod and continued on the path. Soon I came to a dirt road which was angled up to the left and down to the right, I went right and started my decent. Not knowing where it would take me, but knew that I was going down the mountain. Soon the road change to concrete with lines and across it so as to provide traction for cars and what ever that may come this way.

I continued on and started seeing vintage village homes, the kind that were built very close to each other, as I could hear the dogs barking as I approached them. Maybe it was all in my head, but I kept thinking that the dogs knew that I didn’t belong, whether by the smell that I might be putting off, or the sound of my footsteps that they did not recognize, but either case it was an alarm to their masters that I was outside of their front patios, which are fortressed by those green metal gates. I could see the diamond shape patterns of the retaining wall, which I so fondly like seeing as a faint remembrance of Korea from my childhood days.
In the distance, I can now see the lake in front of me, assuring me that I am going in the right direction to where I been before. I pass by a villager working the rice paddy, the small pools of water still frozen as the sun is slowly coming across the mountain. I gave him a nod, but after looking at me for a brief second, he continued on with his hoeing. He had one of those hand held triangular hoes, crouched down in a squatting position which Korean men and older Korean women are regularly seen with a child wrap in a blanket on their backs or smoking a cigarette as the smoke crosses them in the face causing them to squint their eyes.

I continued on. Now I could see the oddly place building, and could recognize it easily and the yellow school bus paint on the walls made it stand out amongst the old white and gray colors of the village. I could now see that the small corner store had open by the plastic table and chairs that were place outside, maybe for people to have a place to sit and rest, but I know mostly it is for customers to meet and enjoy a bottle of soju, the national drink and past time of Korea.

Well I could see that it was past 10am, time that I should be heading back, before my family started to get worried. But I know, that they just started to wake up by now, still tired from the jet lag that would last for another week. I headed to the bus stop where the taxi driver had dropped me off early this morning and had told me I could catch a bus back to Daejeon station, which I can then transfer to a local bus.

The bus stop was very modern and had all kinds of maps on it with bus schedules, it sat on the corner of a 3-way road coming to a T, of course my Korean reading ability was not native, I could make out the sounds of the cities and roads, but it was somewhat confusing as to which bus to take. Suddenly, I saw a bus approaching from where I had just come from. I stood there as it approached, I could see the driver looking at me, then without stopping he just continued on. I was thinking that maybe this was not his regular stop. So I took a seat in the nicely planned bench and waited, thinking I’ll just sit here until the next bus stops and I get on.

After a while, I saw a bus coming from where I had come in the taxi, surely this is the right bus, so I got up and kind of gave a half wave, not sure what to except. I saw him point up to the hill, in those white gloves that all drivers wear in Korea. I was assuming that he would stop at the store, but he kept going. Now this was frustrating, still confused as to what was going on. After a short time had passed, I saw another bus coming from the same direction as the second bus, ah this must have been the reason why the previous bus driver didn’t stop. So I waited, but in stead of slowing down, I could see that the bus was going straight, was I on the wrong side of the road, but there isn’t a bus stop sign on the other side! What’s going on?

Well after waiting for awhile being all frustrated, I started walking to the next bus stop towards where I had come in the taxi and where the other two buses had come from. After a few hundred yards I could see a bus stop sign, so I now knew that buses do come this way. I continued walking, noticing the homes that are sparingly built from each other. Soon, I started dreaming about maybe one day I can buy one of these houses for my retirement. I would keep the outside the same, but deck the inside with American styled bathrooms and kitchens. I would have a flat panel plasma TV with internet. I could keep current of all the news and watch my favorites shows on Hulu, all from this remote village. It was a dream that let me pass the time away.

I soon realized I must have walked about a mile and a half. Still no sign of a bus or any other car for that matter. I’m thinking I’ll have to walk all the way back to the station. Well, before I could start wondering again, I saw two ajum-mas (ladies) at a corner bus stop, so I hurriedly walked up and asked if this was a bus stop. They said yes, but must have thought I was out of my mind for asking that question. (Of course it is!) And what was I doing coming from that direction of the the road as it was without many houses nor places of interest for a couple of miles, at least. I then asked if the bus that stops here would take me to Daejeon station. They said yes, and continued with their conversation. Soon I could see the bus approaching and it finally stopped.

I hopped on board, being sure to put a thousand won in the fare bin, I didn’t quite know how much it would cost me. The bus was full of people, so I grab on to the rails and stood. I noticed that there were some students, but mostly the people on board were elderly. So this bus must have come from the village I was at. Then a realization occurred to me, one of these people must die before I could get a house! My mind started racing now, is that what these people also know? Oh, what a day.
P.S. I found out later that the reason the bus drivers didn’t stop for me was that in the country they don’t want to waste gas or time if I wasn’t going to get on, so I needed to wave them down. (Well, that’s what they told me, albeit not to hurt my feelings).