Namsan Tower

Midway through August, as I thought about Brandon leaving Korea, I remembered that a friend of mine from another church was scheduled to return about the same time that he left. I sent her a text message that night but got no reply. Later in the week, I saw a mutual friend of ours online and asked him if he knew whether she was in town. He said she was, but had been sick--so I assumed that to be the reason she hadn't replied to my message.

The conversation quickly moved onto other things and during the chat, he invited me to his church that Sunday because he would be preaching. "Your offer is quite tempting," I said. "But I still need to pray about where the LORD would want me this Sunday." He argued his point very well and even tried to make the decision for me. Yet through his forcefulness, I was still hesitant. "All right," he finally wrote. "I'm bringing out my bargaining chip: Becky will be there."

I thought about his assertion this morning as I readied myself for my hour-and-a-quarter subway ride into town. I still hadn't made my decision after transferring to the last of three metro lines. As I was about 15 minutes late when I arrived at Noksapyeong station, the closest stop to church, I decided to go ahead with my usual habit. I knew I wouldn't get to my own church on-time and didn't have the heart to walk in late to someone else's. I walked the ten minutes to SIBC instead of the 15-minute-longer walk uphill to KMI, breathing a quick apology to my friend.

I feel quite strongly that the LORD is in the midst of those days when things seem not to go right. Late or not, it was good for me to be at SIBC that day. The service itself was a refreshing, strengthening reminder of what the gospel is and how it should manifest itself in my Christian walk. Not only that, but I was able to meet with something else a little unexpected. Setting my stuff down during announcements, I noticed the familiar face--at least one I'd seen in pictures--of Becky's sister and a person away from her was Becky herself. Apparently, John's bargaining chip was sitting across the aisle from me!

After the service, Becky, her sister Melanie, and her brother-in-law Brian joined a portion of SIBC's young adult group for a Turkish lunch at Instanbul, a fast-food-like eatery near Itaewon. Later, minus the sister and her husband, the party adjourned to Cold Stone Creamery where we indulged our inner children with waffle cones and two scoops of delicious, melt-y ice cream. It was here that the group split up--some to go home, others to hang out in Itaewon, and still others to run off to errands. Becky and I decided to follow Holly and Dawna over to What the Book?, a trendy English used-book store on the main strip.

Both of the other girls had decided to hit up a hot shopping spot around Seoul after perusing the bookstore, but Becky didn't feel like going shopping. We tried looking for clarinet music books at another trendy, though cramped second-hand store, but found only piano-vocal collections at best. "What do you wanna do?" she asked. "I was thinking of either going home or walking up Namsan Mountain."

By this time, it was five-thirty, a reasonable time to head back to Suwon. I knew that I had chores to do back home, but that they could probably wait until later. Only Frankie waited for me at the apartment and when I had gone home early the week before, I discovered how quickly he could get under one's skin. I wasn't exactly dressed for a hike, as I was in a skirt and flow-y blouse. I looked down at my shoes: dressy, feminine sandals, not exactly supportive hiking boots. Still, the idea was appealing. I had never been to Namsan, though I had taken several pictures of its landmark tower. "It's all stairs," Becky affirmed. "Ajimas [old women] take their dogs up it all the time and people wear high-heels. Let's go!"

What started as a half an hour took two in total sum, taking into account the mini-hike up a busy street to get to the tower, and the trek coming back down. We paused to take some panoramic shots of the city skyline before reaching the "base," and paused again at the scenic photo island midway up, a place we both thought would be ideal for wedding proposals. We finally reached the summit, along with a myriad Koreans come to peacefully pass away another Sunday. The hour grew later as we witnessed the sun bathe fellow visitors to Namsan in its golden twilight. Becky promised it wouldn't be as long getting back down, as she had taken me up the scenic route to get there.

We noticed the effect of such an "easy hike" up stairs almost immediately. Sweat gently coated our arms and soaked our clothing through as we ascended the flights of steps to the top. The evening's cooler breezes chilled us as we journeyed down. Once at the bottom and headed again toward Noksapyeong, our thighs wavered uncertainly beneath us, unused to such exertion. Neither of us had sat down for three and a half hours by the time the walk was finished.

"Thanks for letting me rest today," Becky said as she dropped me at the Noksapyeong exit. Legs still wobbly, I suggested that it wasn't quite as restful a day as it could have been. "If I'm not working, it's restful," she affirmed.

I acknowledged that it was a great idea. Even with its mild effects, the path was still enjoyable.

We both felt rejuvenated at the end by the physical activity and agreed that we had been in need of a good walk. "It totally hit the spot," I told her. "[Now w]e both need to work on stress relievers!"

***

View of Namsan Mountain and the western side of Seoul

from Namsan Tower’s platform

A Namsan Tower tradition: Couples write sweet messages and promises of fidelity and love to each other on combination or key locks, then attach them to the railing of the Tower’s platform as an outward symbol of their faithfulness.

It seems to be a favorite hang-out spot for lovebirds.