Yesterday on the way home, a young Asian woman stopped and asked me (with some desperation in her voice) if I could speak English. She wanted to know which bus to take to Anyang Station. I started telling her that I didn’t know (but she was totally relieved that I could speak English) and that I only knew the subway system. But she said that the buses were better and could I read the map for her. I showed her that the stop she wanted was not on the bus map and that she would have to try another bus stop, and we parted ways. But then afterward, I wish I had found out more about her and gotten her number. Another lost Asian who doesn’t speak Korean should be my friend. But, like always, I was oblivious to an opportunity presented to me… :(
I’ve noticed several times a red-headed guy waiting at the bus in front of my officetel every day. So today I went up to him and asked him where he was from. He told me Canada, and reminded me that we’d met before, drinking outside the GS25 one night. Is that hilarious or what? Maybe all white people are starting to look the same to me… ha ha ha!
In the elevator I am surrounded by my reflection. My bangs are unruly and they are a worry. I adjust them this way and that. I realize I am acting very Korean. Other Koreans enter as the elevator stops. We all stand in uncomfortable silence, surrounded by duplicates of our uncomfortable selves. Each of us are relieved proportionally as one of us leaves.