Korean Driving

Everyone has a GPS - who needs a map? For a country that's about the size of Pennsylvania, it's interesting that they don't bother to navigate. Out in the rural areas where I am situated, there are also no sidewalks, which can be a bit hazardous in the dark or the winter, but I am careful.

Everyone seems to own something between a sedan to a caravan; if it's a mobile business, then they might have a van for their wares, but overall, people here are not a fan of huge vehicles. Maybe this is because that might be more dangerous, considering that most Koreans switch lanes very quickly and use their left or right signals only for a second or two. There are very few red cars, or any cars with bright colors. I think the most well known company is Daewoo.

The bigger the city, the wider the roads, but that applies anywhere. Only a few crosswalks have traffic lights with buttons for pedestrians to push. Their crosswalks are generally kept new and well colored. During the traffic jams, the block can last for a long time, but it's still generally faster paced than the awkwardness on a Massachusetts highway. When it comes to accidents, even a scratch is considered an accident here, so then both parties put on their warning lights right in the middle of the road and exchange insurance information. They don't bother to pull over to the side.

As far as I can see, all the Korean vehicles are stick shift. They also have an extra knob on their steering wheels so that they can make turns more accurately and swiftly, which is necessary for avoiding other cars, navigating tight streets in the rural areas and such. Some Koreans don't wear seatbelts - they don't consider it a necessity.

This is my first winter here, and they don't have snow salt. They use shovels, there are no snow plows, and they put sand on top of the snow which barely helps. Sometimes they also use water to melt the snow, which just turns it into ice, but I guess makes the area more flat.

It's not clear to me whether they make room for police cars and ambulances when these emergency vehicles have to pass. The emergency cars have sirens on them, but... While there are some drivers in the US who would let the other guy pass out of niceness or for the heck of it, that rarely or never happens here. There's also a lot less room between cars on a busy street. And if you're taking public transportation, the buses generally don't wait for people - neither does the subway.

Visiting Mrs. Lee

One Friday, I was going downtown to Sangdong when Mrs. Lee volunteered to drive me. On the way, she struggled a lot to say that she's inviting me to her house, if I don't mind. It's just a simple language barrier, mind you, but this took a whole fifteen minutes for me to understand. I said I'd be happy to.

I was going to do this on Sunday after coming back from visiting my friend, but I ended up staying around half a day longer, and didn't have the energy to go visit Mrs. Lee's house when I got back. Not to mention, when I was walking from Sangdong to the elementary school where I live, the principal picked me up and offered me a ride. He also offered me dinner, and I didn't refuse, and there was something to do Monday after school, so I had to postpone visiting Mrs. Lee's house until Tuesday.

We met at the library after school, where I met an art teacher. Mrs. Lee dropped her off at Sangdong, and then went to another school, the Daedong Elementary School, to give money to a friend and have her deposit it in the bank she works at, and then also to drop her off. Then there's one more trip to a separate bank before we get to her house, by which time it's really dark.

She lives in an apartment complex. We climbed four flights of stairs to get to a door where she pushes up the keyhole, enters a password, and the door opens automatically. Very advanced, since I'm so used to basic keys and bolt locks. We enter, and I do the traditional Korean take-off-my-shoes before stepping inside ritual. I put down my bag, and take off my coat, when she asks me whether I am sportsy. I tell her I run and do yoga. She goes, "Yoga! No wonder you're so slim!" She tells me to lay down on the couch, on a massager, because she notices that my neck cracks ocassionally. I am grateful for this.

I become more relaxed. It's a really nice house, fairly big, mainly because it's so well decorated. On the wall above the couch is a glass panel of rock collections, a Japanese art where specifically shaped rocks are matched to variously shaped wooden stands. I find out later that it's Mrs. Lee's father's. There's a piano to the left of the rock collections, and some musical instruments inbetween, including three guitars (one electric), and a small set of drums.

There's a running machine to the left beside the window, a tv stand with two more rock statues, the TV and the phone behind me, and the kitchen far off to the right. The doorway is to the right of the couch. Mrs. Lee serves me some plum tea, which is the most sour and relaxing tea I've taken, what a weird combination. After my massage, she serves me this purple colored rice with sesame while asking about my family, and telling me about her church members and children.

She tells me to go back to the couch, and proceeds to make Korean styled tortillas, which are wraps made of lettuce, tomato, cucumber, mayo, and honey mustard. She also prepares the rest of dinner. When I tire of the massager, I get up on the livingroom floor and do my yoga stretches. I realized how desperately I needed them.