August Nights in Cheonan

It is a cool night for August in Cheonan.  The humidity is still present, I can tell by the moisture in my apartment from the shirts, socks, underwear and slacks hanging to dry.  We have not had many nights like this in the five weeks I have been here.  I take advantage of the break in the heat and venture out for an evening walk with a stomach full of tofu, potatoes and carrots sautéed over green cabbage and a large fresh vegetables salad with sunflower seeds on top.  The oil and vinegar dressing I made reminds of home, my mother.

I walk out the front door of the Darae House where I live across the stone and cement walkway to the street cattycornered from the Blue Café still trying to seduce me in its doors unsuccessfully.  I pass the Cozy Café again peering in and wondering if it is really a café, or is it another code word for bar.  Everything else on Ssang-yongdong gil is restaurants with Korean names I cannot yet understand but can read without any comprehension.  I turn right up the slight incline to the main street in the Ssang-yongdong neighborhood before I get to the Police station with policemen always outside smoking cigarettes, since they seem to have little else to do.  I have been here five weeks and have not seen or heard anything producing evidence of crime in this mid-sized city of a half million people.  Next to the station is a lighted park with some cement seats and a basketball court with teenage boys shooting hoops.  A boy of about 6’2” is playing against two boys and beating them badly, he has skills and knows it.  I cross the street and see many families and young people playing soccer, basketball, badminton and just hanging around the dirt and gravel lot of Cheonanyoungam elementary school where I am a teacher.  I smile knowing that fun, family and community continue there long after I go home.  I like this school and the family-based feeling it manifests.  I continue around the corner to an area of the neighborhood I have not ventured to yet except by #14 bus to downtown Cheonan. 

They have nice wide sidewalks made for comfortable walking for families and relaxation.  Koreans love to enjoy a casual walk after dinner till late at night.  They are out most nights as individuals with iPods, couples holding hands, teens walking home from English academies and families being families.  I notice the soft, gentle pace of all the walkers, none have on designated walking outfits, none are with equipment to lose weight, and none are running in tight Lycra displaying their bodies.  They are walking for walking sake.  They look happy with smiles on their faces evidencing the simplicity of an activity of peace, community and health.  It is refreshing walking on these rose, yellow and green tiled cement walkways without observing people jogging in complete misery desperate to lose another three pounds.  No misery walking in Korea.  Walking is for health, not appearance.

After a mile or so, I mean about fifteen hundred kilometers, (I couldn’t resist); I walk up an incline to little park with benchs and a center resting area.  I sit and stare at the clouds hovering above; they are white, soft and mostly still.  The gentle breeze is not enough to get them moving, so I can see and take time to watch.  A young girl of about eight or nine runs up the hill excited, quickly looks at me and sits across from me to look at the foreigner.  She is careful to not be rude- her glances are brief and non-direct.  Since she is young, I know she can speak some English, I assume that is why she is here in the first place.  Young kids love to practice their limited English on foreigners. 

I say, “Hello”.
She smiles, containing her excitement and replies, “Hi!”  She looks away to not seem eager or disrespectful to an adult, especially a foreigner.  A moment later, she gets up, says, “Good-bye”, glances at me briefly and runs down the hill and across the thin side street.  She is back a few minutes later while I am still staring and appreciating the clouds and the trees.  I say, “Hello” again to make her feel welcome.  Kids here cannot wait to say “Hello” to anyone who will let them.  I am a willing participant at any opportunity I can get.  Who would not want to be the focus of these beautiful, excited smiles?
I get up to leave, and say “Good-bye” again.
She says, “Bye Bye”.
I ask, “How are you?”
“I am fine” she responds in perfect English as if she has done so every day of her life.
“Nice to meet you” I say knowing they are all taught to say this.
“Nice to meet you too.”  She bows, as do I.  I walk away smiling from ear to ear, she is beaming next to her little brother.

The walk back to my space is full of breathing in the night air, noticing young kids out walking, talking and riding bikes after ten at night and feeling Blessed to be here in Korea.  I reflect for a moment on how I will ever be able to return to a land without bowing, casual walking, friendliness, cops too bored to do anything but smoke cigarettes and families enjoying the night without regard for the hour embracing now and this moment.  I have a flinch of shame over how many nights I have been too lazy or distracted to make my evening walk here in Cheonan to remember life and why it is so special.  I stop at Tous les Jous and buy their last baguette for the night for the equivalent of $1.50.  I walk with it in my right hand past folks sitting on the floor of the restaurant on my right just before I turn towards my street.  Again, I peer in the windows of the Cozy Café without discerning any more than the other ten times I have tried and failed.  This was a great walk.  I walk up the steps to the second floor, entering my apartment and clothes hanging on my hand made indoor clothesline.  It is good to be home and actually have a home.