Since we are a day ahead here in Korea, I've already spent
Thanksgiving traveling north to Paju to try to find an orphanage my
Dad worked with in 1963.
Not being able to speak a word of Korean, I stepped off the train to a
platform in the middle of the country with no town in sight. All I
had was my computer with a picture of a certificate the Korean
government had given to Dad. It was time to start walking and finding
someone.
I rounded a bend in the road and came across a children's playground
of sorts. The people were gracious. With barely a common word
between us they got me pointed in the right direction and onto the
proper bus to take me to town. A young woman overheard a conversation
in Korean about me and literally took me under wing for about two
hours.
I'm fighting a cold today, so she unsolicidly took me to an apothocary
for a local cold cure which I drank after the insistant instruction of
"dinkah, dinkah". Then she brought me to the town's City Hall and
enlisted a crew of about five people to find the orphanage. While
they deciphered the certificate displayed on the laptop screen and
researched, others literally showered me with clementine oranges and
green tea.
No luck in Paju... It ends up that the orphanage was very small and
when the US Army Medical Batallion moved to Seoul, so did the
orphanage. So the staff at City Hall found the new location of the
orphanage, called to make introductions and even gave me directions.
(This was all conveyed through an interpreter.)
After making sure the interpreter relayed my thanks, my mystery friend
from the inbound bus led me to the proper bus stop for Seoul
passengers. When the bus arrived she instructed the driver. I got
on, paid, sat down, and looked out the window towards where she was
standing. I waved and as the bus pulled away she jogged along side
waving back. Such total grace from a complete stranger...
What a day for gratitude!
There is much for which to be thankful.
One the bus ride back to Seoul I looked at the mountains and struggled with emotion. Dad has been gone for about a year and a half, but to look at hills that he would have looked at every day while serving with the Army in Korea really made me want to pick up the phone and call him. He always said that the coldest experience of his life was winter in Korea. With the combination of humidity and late fall chill in the air my bones felt the fridged depth of his descriptions.
After returning to Seoul, I was motivated to walk along the river, inspite of my cold and the temperature. The result was a perfect night for capturing clear bridge pictures.
No comments:
Post a Comment