sharing

In the evening I was going to meet my friends at the beach, far to the north of my little town. The trip required a bus transfer once I reached town but at this time of night, the chances of catching a bus were slim to none.
A random Korean man about my age watched me talk to a bus driver (which means exchange very few Korean words) and not embark. The driver was not sure if I would be able to make a connection for the last leg of the trip once we arrived in the city. The Korean witness to this offered to drive me into town and help me find a bus for the 1.5 hr ride to Ilsan Beach to meet my friends. Along the way, I learned Mr. Young was a sewage waste management Engineer and he had a girlfriend outside of the city. It was my understanding they were meeting because he missed her.
Later, I realized that he was just driving into town because he did not live in the town where he worked. Communication was not impossible due to his weak English, as oppose to none, but, we were struggling. Finally, he offered to drive me the whole way and informed me he wasn’t going to visit his girlfriend at all… His home was only “8 minutes from my job” so he was going far out of his way to help me. I was exceptionally grateful and I’m not sure who’s smile was larger when we parted and he said “have a good day” at 10:40pm. I gave him my business card, asked for his only he was without and hope he e-mails me so I can properly thank him.
A seriously good time at the beach ensued.
After said seriously good time, we fell asleep to the merriment of some high school students who helped me a little with Korean grammar because I couldn't fall asleep right away. When they left some ajashi, Korean men, wanted leftover beer, only, they hadn't left any. Now quiet, I was able to let go and fall asleep, although a light sleep. I felt I was being watched but a man who apparently shared Matt's love for Mo Thai fighting.
The sun came up and I was startled by the distinct sound of forced urine, steps away from us on the sand. This was a truly special way to start the day. I can tolerate urinating in public to a point but at my feet is a different experience entirely. I sat up and at first could only see the perpetrators face. It was the same young portly man who tried to sell us warm chestnuts the night before. He was the classic cross between a fully made up clown and a cross dresser without class or style. This young plump lad was still in the busily colourful skirt and tube top he wore when we first met on the street. The bring sun behind him made it difficult to see if he was still adorned with crude makeup. These characters are common on Ilsan beach and perhaps an integral part of beach culture at Ilsan beach. I glared at him and he looked over his shoulder as to indicate he was sure I was unhappy with someone else. He was not discrete about his exposed organ and I felt insulted. It was then I remembered that he had been squealing like a young school girl being tickled by a close friend before we all settled down on the raised platforms away from the water’s edge.
A female high school student with whom we’d talked earlier that morning began asking him many questions about his temporary dwelling, about what he needed and so on. It was not clear if she was doing this to give him some company or simply patronize his seemingly homeless condition. He was sprawled out in front of an elaborate mosquito netted shelter during his interrogation, belly spilling out like the glistening Daegu fish blubber I have noticed in fish markets. This same young girl, moments earlier had introduced herself to our group. With her was her boyfriend, a couple and a fifth single boy she introduced as “gay”. I immediately said that being gay was fine and she shouldn’t joke about it if that was not true. Did she balance herself out by talking kindly to the large exposed belied homeless boy? Was her friend really gay? Will she throw up again next weekend in public on the clean sand?
No closure here.
What is clear, however, is that Koreans, although accused as being shy, do like to share. Our hosts like to share their food, stories, time, cars and opinions. You might wonder if I’m still thankful that Mr. Young drove me to the beach. Absolutely, thank you Mr. Young.