The bus ride to Goseong and Back.
Our bus driver to Goseong was very engaging.
It was not long before we struck up a conversation. Wanting to know where we
were from, I at first attempted to place our origin to a major city in the US.
He was very glad that we were from the USA and taking the time to enjoy the
beauty of his homeland's mountains and coast, which he pointed out in his limited English.
When I said we were from the Boston area, he didn't recognize that city, but
knowing that Koreans are also great baseball fans, I mentioned the Red Sox, and
on that we had common ground. He was awed and shook his head in
affirmation.
He stopped at a fresh water spring for a drink, and would have had a smoke if I wanted one. Then we stopped along the roadside and he jumped off and gathered up some sour cherries from some folks sitting there eating them. His friends, as he is the local driver on this route. The entire trip we traveled with the door open, through which he threw the pits from the cherries and to let in some air. He was also very happy that I had brought my daughter, and their picture together is a fond family memory of this day, and one of those moments during the trip that was special for the person we had met and one that was special for us.
The ride back was good, although the walk from the site to the bus stop was a crueling uphill trudge. We picked up the bus where our friend had indicated and at the time indicated. The bus was mostly empty except for the driver - a woman, the bus driver's young daughter, an older woman seated in the front seat, and an additional passenger picked up a few miles down the road, another young woman about 18-20 years old. The older woman in the front seat was chattering away with the bus driver most of the way. I can't remember when we started to talk, but I think it was when I recognized something she was saying and responded, to her great amusement. She was laughing and carrying on, and every once in a while I'd throw in a Korean word to make her think I was getting everything she was saying to me and to the driver.
She tried out her English, talking to the driver, "I luvaa u, soorry, goodbye," all the time laughing.
An elder woman, she was in good spirits and when I responded in Korean, she and the driver were howling with laughter.
"I luvaa u, soorry, goodbye," she continued repeatedly almost all the way back to the bus station in Goseong, amusing the bus driver and embarrassing the young woman seated a few rows behind me. It was her only English I am sure, or we might have heard something else.
The wheres and whens of her English education were many years
removed. When we were at the bus terminal to change buses for the ride back to
Jinju, we parted.
He stopped at a fresh water spring for a drink, and would have had a smoke if I wanted one. Then we stopped along the roadside and he jumped off and gathered up some sour cherries from some folks sitting there eating them. His friends, as he is the local driver on this route. The entire trip we traveled with the door open, through which he threw the pits from the cherries and to let in some air. He was also very happy that I had brought my daughter, and their picture together is a fond family memory of this day, and one of those moments during the trip that was special for the person we had met and one that was special for us.
The ride back was good, although the walk from the site to the bus stop was a crueling uphill trudge. We picked up the bus where our friend had indicated and at the time indicated. The bus was mostly empty except for the driver - a woman, the bus driver's young daughter, an older woman seated in the front seat, and an additional passenger picked up a few miles down the road, another young woman about 18-20 years old. The older woman in the front seat was chattering away with the bus driver most of the way. I can't remember when we started to talk, but I think it was when I recognized something she was saying and responded, to her great amusement. She was laughing and carrying on, and every once in a while I'd throw in a Korean word to make her think I was getting everything she was saying to me and to the driver.
She tried out her English, talking to the driver, "I luvaa u, soorry, goodbye," all the time laughing.
An elder woman, she was in good spirits and when I responded in Korean, she and the driver were howling with laughter.
"I luvaa u, soorry, goodbye," she continued repeatedly almost all the way back to the bus station in Goseong, amusing the bus driver and embarrassing the young woman seated a few rows behind me. It was her only English I am sure, or we might have heard something else.
Hello Tim, this is a good story and I am sure it brought back happy memories for you, trying to speak broken-Korean/English with the local folks; in a country where you obviously have a great fondness. Best to you, Jerry Day
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