I don't have much time left here in Korea. I'm typing this sitting on my bed. My room is bare. Bare-er. It seems like I'll never get everything out of here. It's the middle of the night already, but I get up to check the locks again. Both of them are still locked. I return to the bed to make sure my kubotan spike (bought by me) and the Irish hurley (borrowed from a friend) are within arm's reach. I'm ready. I'm as armed as I can legally be in this country. In addition to holding two weapons, I now AM two weapons, with a black belt in Taekwondo and Tukkong Musul, as of tonight. Fourteen hours and a world. That world is falling apart in front of me, as I daily get nearer to its end. But I promise, I'm not going with it. So to whoever comes to my door tonight-
I have more fight in me tonight, than I've ever had in my life.
What, you may ask, has put me in such a fighting pose, written in such fighting prose? Well, I'll tell you.
Rewind to a week ago.
A newer teacher at the school is as bad as they come. As bad as they showing-up-drunk, beating-children-with-sticks, bragging-about-mob-connections come. His stories of friends with sashimi knives are lackluster, compared to Capone or the Bloods, but being not very gangster myself, I find myself intimidated. As my last day comes around, heralded by an angelic chorus parting the clouds to raise a Hallelujah banner, I begin asking for a plane ticket home. My boss, behind on hiring a new teacher, begs for an extra week or two out of me, first appealing to my pity, then offering a hundred bucks when he finds none. As you know, readers, I am an outspokenly strong fan of everything about Korea. So I tell him no, I have future plans in the US, and I need to be going.
Cue: a private rooftop chat up a secluded stairwell with our mafioso villain. The smoke of his cigarettes makes our hero cough.
The Villain informs the Hero that to allow an older person to beg a younger person for something, and then refuse, is an extreme dishonor in the Sobaek system of Confucian incredibly-important heirarchy.
This line of reasoning has little impact on our very Western Hero.
He goes on to detail that the mob is involved in the Hagwon (private academy) system and likes things to run smoothly.
Fast forward to today.
Open in the office: the Hero recieves his plane tickets- Incheon to Tokyo, 19 hour layover, Tokyo to Chicago. The Villain saunters in and drapes himself dramatically across his desk, asking the Hero if he's happy now. A contented reply from the Hero triggers a short Hannibal Lecture from the Villain detailing how the Hero is the most self-centered person the Villain has ever met.
We're not so different, he and I.
Exit the Villain, stage right, while the audience gape in shocked silence. Then after a quick return, full of gleeful smugness, the Villain offers his showstopper line:
"Hey Jeff, tonight I'm going to show you what a real Korean gangster looks like."
Cue a flurry of reporting to the boss, having the incident swept under the rug, denial by Korean witnesses, and a general overwhelming reaction of nothing.
Well 14hoursandaworld-ers, your intrepid hero is not one to lay down and die. I have my month's pay. I have my black belt. I have my plane ticket. I have some more pay to collect yet, and then I have a trip home to make. I'm sitting here waiting for a pounding at the door that may or may not come, but if it does, I'm ready for it. More ready than I ever would have been a year ago.
I have hundreds and hundreds of hours of combat training, which came with the added benefit of knowing that I am more capable than I have ever believed. I have a Hurley from wonderful, helpful friends (who tonight escorted me as a group over the half hour trip to get my black belt) I would never have met, had I not come here. I have a Kubotan defense spike bought for a beautiful girl I might never have dated, had I not come here. I have an incredible family and friends who have been there with me through everything this entire year while I've been here.
I have all those things people live for.
Never in my life have I appreciated more the things I have. And I WILL keep them. And I WILL return to them, safely.
I will stand on American soil in eight days.
I'm coming home.
Jeff M. Davis.
No comments:
Post a Comment