I first met her at a crowded expat hangout in Busan's university district. She was there with her western friends. But when I approached her, she was sitting alone at the bar. We started talking. I put my arm around her. I asked her if that was okay, and she said yes.
We walked around in the night for what seemed like a lifetime. It was she who wanted to walk. I couldn't understand why we didn't just take a taxi. I'm still not sure. Maybe she was unsure of herself. Maybe she was testing me somehow.
She didn't have any intention of seeing me again. It was her friends who convinced her to do it. They told her I seemed like a good guy. So there we were having ice cream on the waterfront. I spoke passionately about my experiences teaching in her country, the problems I saw in the Korean education system, and what I thought was necessary to improve students' English ability. That seemed to do it.
We headed to Seoul for the weekend. Sitting on the train, we listened to music on her MP3 player and held hands. She took pictures of the sun setting over the countryside. I took pictures of her.
In the evening, we sat and listened to some musicians playing in the park. Then we headed for a nightclub. There was a platform that she danced on, but I was still quite a bit taller than her.
We saw the sights, caught a show in a dodgy little theatre, grabbed some fast food from an American 1950s-style diner. She expressed dismay that I had lied to her about my age. I explained myself. She acted upset, but when I went in to kiss her, she didn't turn away.
She knew that I would be leaving soon, just like all the other foreigners she surrounded herself with, just passing through. But she didn't let that stop her.
Every time I called her on the phone, this is what I heard.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7cCrpd-aYwU
No comments:
Post a Comment