This weekend I was invited to play with children at an Orphanage in Busan, Korea's third largest city. A church arranges transportation to Busan and those who go have to get themselves back to Ulsan. The adventure involves playing with children for a few hours, eating a meal and then exploring the city before the last bus leaves... The chance sounded horrid so I immediately decided it was perfect for me.
I met some friendly strangers turned friends at the church and was helped there by a cab driver who asked me if I was Christian. I lied, and said a little bit, wanting to not get him angry or confused having asked to go to a church and not actually being Christian. Although his English was very good, I did not think it was a good time to get into a broken English conversation about my spirituality. It could have also resulted in a long way there. He proceeded to tell me that he was a little bit Buddhist after I noticed a beaded circle near his stick shift. Similar to the one my Director has in his van, I found comfort knowing that someone else is sort of spiritual and was smiling. He was very proud of his Korean / English cue cards and got me to the church on time.
The ride to the orphanage involved a two hour stop in the city where a small group dove into the busy streets marked by small carts with food to sell. This included fried donut surprises of a multitude variety, filled, plain and a myriad of dried fish. We found what I did not think existed in Korea, an enormous used clothing paradise. Until Busan, I have had absolutely no luck finding used clothing. We did not have enough time for me to find a winter jacket and I could not decide on buying a used scarf for 5,000 won, around $5 CAD.
We got to the orphanage and the last driveway was extremely steep. The night before I was imagining a place different from what we found. The only thing similar was a large sunken play ground. The children were adorable and were very glad to see us. Some were eager to kick a soccer ball while others just wanted to be pushed on a swing. I was nursing a sore back, my kidney region got pulled in my last Tae Kon Do session and I was in no shape for an intense game of soccer. One of the other volunteers had brought some face paint and I stationed myself around a very crowded table and began to carefully apply animals, flowers and fruit to children’s hands and faces.
I met some friendly strangers turned friends at the church and was helped there by a cab driver who asked me if I was Christian. I lied, and said a little bit, wanting to not get him angry or confused having asked to go to a church and not actually being Christian. Although his English was very good, I did not think it was a good time to get into a broken English conversation about my spirituality. It could have also resulted in a long way there. He proceeded to tell me that he was a little bit Buddhist after I noticed a beaded circle near his stick shift. Similar to the one my Director has in his van, I found comfort knowing that someone else is sort of spiritual and was smiling. He was very proud of his Korean / English cue cards and got me to the church on time.
The ride to the orphanage involved a two hour stop in the city where a small group dove into the busy streets marked by small carts with food to sell. This included fried donut surprises of a multitude variety, filled, plain and a myriad of dried fish. We found what I did not think existed in Korea, an enormous used clothing paradise. Until Busan, I have had absolutely no luck finding used clothing. We did not have enough time for me to find a winter jacket and I could not decide on buying a used scarf for 5,000 won, around $5 CAD.
We got to the orphanage and the last driveway was extremely steep. The night before I was imagining a place different from what we found. The only thing similar was a large sunken play ground. The children were adorable and were very glad to see us. Some were eager to kick a soccer ball while others just wanted to be pushed on a swing. I was nursing a sore back, my kidney region got pulled in my last Tae Kon Do session and I was in no shape for an intense game of soccer. One of the other volunteers had brought some face paint and I stationed myself around a very crowded table and began to carefully apply animals, flowers and fruit to children’s hands and faces.
It was pure magic. Faces were calm and very serious until the mirror was turned towards them and they could see their new temporary face. The smiles were wonderful and only until dinner when I could talk with some of the other adults did the situation hit me… none of these children had families. Stories were varied, some came from large families where there were simply too many children. Others I imagine were abandoned because they were girls, unable to take care of an elderly mother and father; the duty of the first born son.
The children were also very very well behaved. Compared to the kids I teach, these little people were angels. I felt lucky to be part of their day and am looking forward to going back on the next trip, about a month away. A new friend captured some photos and I will be sending them to the orphanage if we can get the address. The food was delicious, especially the honey / herbal tea.
Back in Busan we took advantage of the time and returned to the used clothing treasures. Lisette found a great sweater and I found a brilliant black down coat with sleeves that actually fit! All of the dress coats were missing about 8 centimeters so I didn’t push a lower price than the $20 asked of me. We gorged on fried vendor food from potato chips on a stick, pork/crab meat/egg on a stick wrapped in batter and pineapple… on a, you guessed it, stick.
A full day left me tired and ready for bed. Chamber music today was cancelled because our violinist was sick. It is a shame that he text messaged me only 30 minutes before we were supposed to begin; a message I didn’t read until after I got out of the cab. On the bright side, I was able to spend time with Dong Jin and her friend who shared a Korean / English lesson with me over green tea, Americano and Mocha chino. A massage and groceries to finish the day and dinner at home with my first brown rice tasted in Korea.
Remembering the soldiers who helped fight for Canada’s freedom.
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