Sunday, December 20, 2009

Travel Korea Day 1: The Polar Express

The morning of Saturday, December 19th saw the start of my week-long winter break. That day, I survived waking up late, witnessing a fierce Korean argument outside Jochiwon Station, and almost missing my train to Gwangju. The LORD proved faithful even in this and five hours after catching my first train, I arrived safely in my friend Gwen's hometown.

Because I woke up at 8:15 that morning and needed to board my train before 8:40, I was in a rush to throw on clothes and hail the nearest taxi. I arrived at the station in Chungju just long enough to notice a trickle of people headed to the platform, to follow them, and (within literal seconds) to board the first train that stopped. It was at the right time and seemed to be headed in the right direction, so I assumed it must be my train. It proved to be the right one when it stopped at the Jochiwon terminal. Once there, the train to Gwangju literally started taking off without me. The attendant had to radio the conductor to ask him to wait and had to ask me (in Korean) to wait for the train to stop moving before I got on! I boarded on car three when I needed car two, but at least I made it on the train. It was my chief worry as I rode from Chungju: I don't know Korean! This could be the wrong way!

It was a harrowing beginning, to be sure, but I soon settled into the journey. As I rode peacefully across nearly half of the Korean peninsula, I had a chance to watch the countryside roll by my window, beautifully adorned by a fresh blanket of fluffy, white snow. I felt like I was on the Polar Express; all I needed for the image to be complete was "hot, hot, hot, hot choc'late." Snow continued to fill the air with its graceful swirling flakes even as the train pulled into the Jochiwon terminal. Feeling a little too cooped up inside and filled with giddy, child-like excitement, I ventured out to play with nature's winter toy before boarding my next train. I left my footprints in the courtyard's untouched fluff and took a plethera of pictures; I walked around the town's square just to walk in the snow. The dirty, mushy street snow that I trudged reminded me of well-trafficed snow patches at the Durango Mountain ski Resort in Colorado. Snow seems to make even mundane things beautiful and new. This has indeed been my first white Christmas.



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