The three of us were anticipating a glorious break from school on Monday in celebration of Korea's Independence Day, one that would be full of sleeping in, relaxation, and, at least for me, relocating to my new place of residence. As we neared our ride, Andy quipped, "We have a three day weekend. We don't have to work on Monday!"
"Who says you don't have to work on Monday?" I asked, incredulous. "You're helping me move."
"You're paying me to go to Suwon!" he shot back in playful banter. "As long as I get to take Frankie. I want Frankie duty."
At this, Brandon joined the conversation. "I want the heaviest thing you have."
"Aside from myself," I replied cheekily, "I have two fifty-five-pound bags that you can carry."Earlier that week, I had asked Andy and Brandon in an email if they'd help me move. I was sure I'd have enough stuff to fill all three of our pairs of arms: two pieces of filled-to-capacity luggage, two heavy carry-ons, two canvas grocery bags full of miscellaneous household needs, and one breatheable cloth tote just big enough for my roommate Frankie to fit inside. Though what I brought to Korea was managable enough for one person, I had since added to it with three packages from home, several shopping trips around town for suitable winter attire, a new pet, and innumarable trips to E-Mart for whatever domestic necessity that I couldn't live without. My stuff would no longer fit neatly, albiet still cramped, into just my suitcases anymore.
When Monday, March 1 finally dawned, I was never more grateful for their help or their company. I had tried to show my deep appreciation for their assistance by purchasing a heavy loaf of specialty bread from a no-name Korean bakery the night before we set out. But upon digging into it for breakfast I found it to be filled with a curious, sticky, unsavory rice cake concoction that I could not stomach; I ended up leaving it in a trash bag just outside my apartment door, as I wouldn't let the guys even look at it. Token of thanks or no, we met at my apartment at 10 a.m. sharp to gather my things and board the first bus to Suwon.
In anticipation of the move, I had woken up at 7:30 and to finish my last-minute preparations. By 10:05 that morning, the last thing on my list was to persuade Frankie to enter his mobile habitat, his home for the trip's duration. I had been persuading him since 9:40 with no such luck. I had prayed all morning and the night before for him to be peaceful and accepting of this new "place," but every push towards the canvas ended in feline agitation. Brandon's knock at the door and first attempts to move my luggage only served to increase Frankie's uneasiness and suspicion. The two of us man-handled him inside the tote and placed a towel over it in an effort to calm him down.
When Andy arrived, he glanced at the white blob and astutely asked, "Why is the box on floor moving?" At this, I turned my head to see a small spherical shape about the size of Frankie's wiggle itself out from under the towel. Instantly, I grabbed him and set to work resecuring him in his carrier. It took a concerted effort from all three of us to finally wrestle him inside the breatheable bag: Brandon holdhing him in with his strong hands, Andy and I zipping up the sides, and Andy tieing the pulls together with breadties. The start to the morning was anything but dull.
I wasn't sure how I'd move all of my belongings without a reliable source of transportation, as my last move before Korea had taken five or more loads in my car to complete. My director had offered his car for my use for that express purpose, but I didn't take him up on the invitation. Andy mentioned that if he'd been offered a ride, he'd have taken it. "If David had been here [however]," Andy said on the elevator ride, "I wouldn't have come." "I know," I said. It's the cheif reason I declined David's offer. I didn't want anyone else on our little adventure. In preparing for the day, I felt this sense that it needed to be "our day," just Andy, Brandon, and myself journeying together, perhaps for the last time. It would be up to just us to figure out how to accomplish such a feat as moving to another city through public transportation alone.
It was drizzling lightly as we stepped out of our building that morning and we were grateful to the first taxi that pulled up beside our Brady bunch: Brandon lugging my two pink suitcases, me with my two carry-ons and cloth grocery bag, and Andy loaded down with Frankie's tote and a cardboard box big enough to fit a small child. I was stupidly proud of myself as we rode to the bus terminal, commenting that "the sum total of all my possessions" could fit into one taxi. I was thankful to be traveling so relatively light as Brandon and Andy spent the day "manning up," hauling my overstuffed luggage up each flight of stairs at every subway stop. Thankfully the subway line we took was largely above-ground, but it was not without its fair share of steps. Loooking back, it was ludicrous of me to count on subway transportation as the sole means of relocating, but we arrived safely and it proved to be an enjoyable day.
As Andy records on his Facebook status for the day, "[we] rode in 11 different vehicles, 4 different types of transit" to make the trip: "Taxi -- Bus -- Taxi -- Subway -- Taxi -- Subway -- Train -- Taxi -- Subway -- Bus -- Taxi." The route chosen involved a 2-hour ride to Suwon, a five minute taxi to the station, then a 15-minute subway ride to Hwaseong. On the bus ride, we serindipitously met a mutual friend named Laura who was on her way to a job interview a few subway stops away from Suwon. I was thankful for her company as I sat by her on the trip. Andy sat across the aisle from us with Frankie for a seatmate and Brandon contentedly sat alone one row in front of us. We visited and laughed about all things related to our teaching experiences in Korea. It was good to have another female to relate to as we enjoyed the drive.
Every time I heard anything suspicious coming from Andy's side of the bus, I glanced over to see if Frankie was okay. I needn't have worried, though, because true to his word, Andy was on Frankie duty that day, gently placing a reassuring hand on the bag whenever the cat got too rowdy. Laura commented once as she looked over at him that "Andy will be a good dad. He's doing this in his sleep."
"He's not sleeping," I said as I glanced over at him again, noticing his black Ipod perched in his lap and the telltell cord of his earbuds drifting from his ears.
"Well, he's in a relaxed state," she countered. I had to agree about her observation: There was something tender about watching a man care for such a helpless animal like Frankie.
We finally made it to Hwaseong about 1:30 and upon arrival, let the cat out of his bag to allow him to explore the apartment a bit and adjust himself. After just a moment's relaxation in front of a fuzzy Korean TV, we headed to Itaewon for a late lunch of authentic Mexican food as payment, of sorts, for the trip and the help. I am ever grateful for both Andy's and Brandon's hand in getting me resettled. I was glad they both volunteered their free Monday and I told Andy as much as we waited to board the subway. "I'm glad I came, too," he admitted. "I would have just been sitting at home. [And] I knew I would have been a [jerk] if I didn't."
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