D O N G H A E

To tell you the truth, it felt strange to actually talk to a girl without causing her to blush, stammer, giggle, and smile. I mean this girl just glimpsed at me and even shrugged at me. I’m not bragging or anything but I wondered if her vision was alright.

So there I was, following someone instead of being followed. It really felt strange. It made me feel…well, the more I think about, the more I realize that this made me feel more human. It made me feel normal - just like everybody else. It was something I hadn't felt in a long time.

Finally, after walking several yards, we finally reached the subway station. There was a line of people before the ticket counter and the girl and I got in behind them. When she reached the counter, the girl glanced at me and nodded up.

“Where are you going?” she asked in that deep, husky, tough guy voice of hers. Her English, unlike mine, sounded much better. I wondered if she’d been abroad.

I fished out a piece of paper from my pocket and read it out loud. “Genka station.”

The fierce girl spoke to the ticket lady, slid out two cards and handed one to me without looking up.

Without looking up.

I can’t believe this. She only looked at me three times. Was it because I was relatively tall? Was it because she felt shy talking to strangers? No. That’s not it. With that mob-like attitude of hers, this woman acted as if she owned the place. I sighed to myself. Maybe something was really wrong with her eyes.

The trains in Dokbayo were as crowded as the buses. When you get in, you literally become sandwiched. The girl, however, slipped in with ease and I, being the tall rather muscular man that I am, struggled to get in. The ceiling was only a few inches taller than my head and I could practically smell the shampoo of the man in front of me, so it relieved me when Genka station came into view.

I looked around to find the girl but she was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t even get to say thank you. Oh well, it’s not like I’ll meet her again.

But as usual, I was wrong.

~~~

Whenever they tell you that a Korean can’t survive for a week without kimchi, you better believe it.

Because after spending two days on bread and water alone, my taste buds began to crave that spicy sensation brought about by pepper and fermented cabbage.

So after spending half a day going around, struggling, in my broken English, to make people understand that I was looking for international food, I was enthralled to finally find a place where they sell kimchi.

One man, who patiently tried to understand what I was saying, pointed me to a place that was some fifteen minutes walk from the hotel. It was easy to spot, with its large red light up letters spelling out “Universal Market” stuck just below the roof.

I strode into the supermarket with a plastic basket in hand. The shop was huge with sparkling white floors and a tall ceiling.

The Dokybayonese government may be strict when it came to media but food was a different story. On the shelves were Ramen from Japan, coffee from Columbia, soy sauce from China, dried mangoes from the Philippines, a box of nachos from America and biscuits from Europe. And of course, at the frozen food section – there was kimchi from Korea.

My mouth was watering as I took out several jars of premade kimchi and placed them inside the plastic basket. As I began to make my way towards the cashier, guess who was there?

Her.