Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Luggage Story

Last Saturday morning, October 17, 2009, I left San Antonio, Texas, on a cross-Pacific journey to Chungju, South Korea (pronounced Choong-ju). Because of the international date line, I arrived at the Incheon International Airport in Seoul at 6:15pm Sunday night. Since the last direct bus to Chungju left at 7:10 (and by 7:15 I had just gotten my luggage and found my way to the bus ticket booth), I had to take two different buses to my final destination. As I left Incheon, I boarded the 6010 Airport Limosine to the Gang nam Terminal. I was so weary that I fell asleep and forgot where I was. The driver had to wake me up when we arrived at the terminal. I grabbed my carry-on bags and exited the bus. Once on the sidewalk, I started walking to the right, trying to remember my contact's directions to the terminal entrance. I was still groggy from the nap and the driver motioned me the other direction towards a set of stairs across the street. I thanked him in English and walked away. As I heard the bus speed off just seconds later, I looked down at my bags and remembered that I had had more than these on the plane.

"Oh crud!" I shouted. "I forgot my luggage on the bus!"

A French married couple started talking to me in English and tried to help. The woman started to look for the man who had motioned me to the stairs, but I told her he was the bus driver and had already left. They walked me across the street, but didn't know how else to help. "Go to the express bus terminal ticket booth and maybe someone will speak English and can help you," they suggested. I thanked them and moved on.

Downstairs didn't look anything like a bus terminal or a ticket booth. It was filled with little shops lining a large hallway, like the mercado in downtown San Antonio, only subway-like and underground. Where was I to find anyone who spoke English? I found a Korean pay phone and rummaged to find the money that I had exchanged at the airport. I needed to call my contact in Korea, Lauren, to explain about my luggage. I had tried unsuccessfully to call her from the pay phones at the airport. I got the same message as I did at the airport: "There is a delay with your number. Please try again." It didn't make sense--what did they mean by "delay"? At this point, I was starting to get a little worried. The director of Learning Well Institute, my new employer, was out of Korea and back in the States for personal business; contacting Lauren was my only option. David, the director, had given me a number that would connect to his phone in the US. I finally tried calling it, but got a long message in Korean with no clarifying English accompanying it. I just wanted to cry. "Here I am," I thought, "stuck in the middle of Seoul without my luggage." And no way to contact anyone.

I approached several vendors in the shop, but no one really spoke English. One clerk from a cell phone booth, spoke a little. "Straight. Escalator. Up," he said when I asked where to find the ticket booth. I finally was approached by an older gentleman eating ice cream. "How can I help you?" he asked. I followed him around the terminal and he led me to a sign that read "Cheongju" (pronounced Chong-ju).

"There," he said proudly. "Chong-ju."

"No, no," I shouted and pulled out my notebook. "This one." I had written down the name of my city in Korean, thanks to my director's advice. He said that since there are two cities with a similar name, foreignors get confused.

"Ah," he said. A security officer approached us and pointed us out the door and to another building. Once there, the older man led me straight to the booth. He cut in front of the line ten people and spoke directly to the clerk.

"Eleven thousand," he said, indicating the price of the ticket to Chungju.

Clearly, I had found the ticket booth, but aparently no one there was able to help. "Does she speak English?" I asked. "I need to speak to someone about my luggage." I tried telling him what had happened, but he didn't seem to understand. As I spoke, a young woman stood a few feet from us and seemed to be listening intently. I could tell she understood because she didn't leave. I don't remember how she introduced herself, but suddenly I found myself speaking with her as the older man walked away.

"You don't know anyone in Seoul?" she asked. "Are you here alone? I will help you." She asked if I had a cell phone and allowed me to use hers. I showed her the numbers that I had and she tried them, contacting another administrator from the school, Joshua. He said he would contact Lauren. The young woman also took my bus ticket, found the number on the back, and called the bus company. Within fifteen minutes, she had helped me find my luggage and arrange for it to be brought to Chungju. Basically, she rescued my luggage.

As we were waiting for all this to be worked out, I asked if there was a place to buy a drink. The last drink I had had was a sip of filtered water from the water fountain at the airport, which by this time was three hours earlier. I had been thirsty all throughout the plane ride, never fully able to quence my thirst with the attendant's water cups. I discovered that night that there are no public water fountains in Korea. My mouth was so dry that I felt my tounge sticking to its bed at the bottom of my mouth. As we walked to the convenience store inside the terminal, I asked the young woman's name. Her English name is Gwen. She offered to pay for the water, if I didn't have enough. She then led me to a seat so we could wait.

The company called to say that they would send the luggage to Chungju. Lauren called back and informed me that she would pick me up at the Chungju terminal at 1 or 2AM (by now it was almost 10pm). Finally, it was time for Gwen and her two friends to leave. They were headed back to her hometown, Gwang-ju (I think). "I cannot thank you enough," I said. "Without you, I would not have my luggage. Thank you." A few minutes later, as I still sat there, she came back and gave me her email address and phone number so that I could look her up if I went to her city. She had stayed with me until I no longer needed her.

4 comments:

  1. Looks like God is taking care of you. I would love to hear your story of how you decided to find work in Korea! Hope all your adventures are wonderful.
    -Beth Hernandez

    ReplyDelete
  2. It's quite interesting and surprising. I guess I need to post that story soon! I have it in the Notes section of Facebook, under Jennifer Lowery's notes. There are three parts, "Plans For Korea," "Plans for Korea, Pt. 2," and "Plans for Korea Pt 3: The Finishing Touches." Thanks for following my blog! If you have any suggestions, please let me know.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thanks, Grandpa. I'll keep you all posted! I love you.

    ReplyDelete