Hanging by a thread - and I don't mean Spiderman

When we first arrived in Korea, so long long ago, (it's now 13 months!), our senses were at first completely assaulted by the noisy, neon advertisements covering every conceivable inch of space on any building housing any type of business whatsoever, be it one of the ubiquitous "norebang" (karaoke rooms), "ho-pes" (hofs, or bars), hakwons or the delicious and cheap 24-hour chain diners, Kimpap Changuk, or Kimpap Nara (known simply to foreigners as the "orange kimpap place", a place to head for at 4 am, for kimpap, bibimbab, cheese deokbokki - short, thick and satisfying rice noodles smothered in spice and processed cheese slices, for the uninitiated - after filling your belly with cheap and terrible draft beer or soju).... wow, that was one long-ass sentence!

Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, the signs. The signs are everywhere, flashing neon noise in all directions - for you Saskatonians, it's like the Ex on speed, except every day, and every hour.

With all these signs, there is obviously a certain amount of maintenance needed to ensure they don't work themselves loose and hurtle down to impale some poor soul seven stories below. At least you would think it should be an obvious fact. Yet, a former teacher told me how, shortly before we arrived, he was on the top floor of our school smoking a cigarette outside the window, when one of the dozens of signs plastering our building was blown free by a rogue gust of wind and did indeed plummet seven stories to the sidewalk below (a sidewalk usually teeming with children). Mercifully, no one was injured, or killed, by the rather ironic fact that a doctor's sign had just shattered upon the ground.

That said, there are certain safety guidelines and regulations that we back in North America are expected to follow without question. Seat belts, car seats, even the simple assumption when driving that red=stop, green=go, and that there is some natural unspoken law that governs the flow of traffic to ensure that cars remain in the right-hand lane, are a few that come immediately to mind. Here, it is much less precise, and Koreans are much more...well, liberated in terms of these iron-clad views of safety we in dear ol' North America cherish so deeply.

Safety practices, as we know them in North America, are almost non-existent here. For instance, young children clamber happily and free inside a speeding vehicle as it weaves frantically through 5 lanes of traffic. Incredibly, sometimes tiny kids, sometimes more than one child, are ferried around on "autobikes" (Konglish for "motorcycle") without helmets, and certainly without any type of restraint. When our air conditioner was clogged last summer, the repairman actually stuck his mouth on the hose and suctioned foul black sludge out of the implement - what would our unions say about that??

But my favorite to observe are the men who work to either clean windows or repair or maintain the massive amount of signs. Working on buildings sometimes over 30 stories, they simply attach a single rope from the roof and lower themselves down on a plank of wood used as a seat. It's absolutely terrifying to watch, but morbidly perhaps, whenever I see it, I can't seem to tear my eyes off them.

Korea, in so many ways, is best summed up as constantly being "an accident waiting to happen." It's precariously and delightfully random.

Off Roading, Korean-style

When exiting our apartment building, we must first carefully look left and right before stepping out, to ensure we are not overrun by a rogue motorbike hastily zipping along the sidewalk delivering "TastyNoodles" or KyonChon fried chicken or any number of other things.

Apparently, their deliveries are so important, the drivers will stop at nothing to reach their final destination, constantly risking life and limb to deliver their goods on time. There are also motorbikes used for private transportation. Not a one is subject to the normal "rules" of the Korean road. They fly along at high speeds, up and down sidewalks as they weave skillfully through the pedestrians, up the wrong side of the road, through red lights, and even over pedestrian walkways built overtop of busy roads. Occasionally, we see a motorbike with a group of three teenagers (all without helmets, of course) zigzagging through red lights at busy intersections. It's a miracle I haven't seen any chalk outlines on the roads yet.

On Friday and Saturday nights (and most other nights as well), it is usual to hear commotion from the street below as the drunken men topple out of the bars and into their cars. One evening, Matt saw a group of men, severely inebriated, accost a driver of a motorbike. One of the men pushed him to the ground, boarded the bike, and proceeded to swerve off into the night. Several seconds later, there was a mild crash as his ride came to an abrupt halt. He hadn't had the time to build up much speed, fortunately, and it sounded as though he had simply wiped out, hitting the ground instead of another car/lamp post/person... pedestrians always have to be on the lookout here!

On the Road

Drivers of Korea, you know little of the terror you so greatly inspire in the mild hearts of Canadian expats....

Our very first night in Korea, less than an hour after our arrival in fact, we found ourselves careening down a crowded multi-lane freeway at 130km/hr, in a minivan whose dashboard was alight with multiple electronic gadgets, including a GPS, and a device to hold a cell phone while the driver could talk, and numerous other blinking, beeping contraptions designed to make life easier, but instead succeeding in increasing distraction.

I've mentioned before the competitive, passionate nature of the Koreans. Nowhere is this more dangerously obvious than on their busy roads. BEWARE, if you have the audacity to cut someone off, you will most likely get an earful of profanity at the next red light (that is if you choose to stop, considering that traffic laws are open to a great deal of interpretation). Either that, or they will do their best to get the better of you by doing everything in their power to get back in front of you again, even if it means putting their lives and the lives of countless others in jeopardy, simply to get the "upper hand".

Last week, I took a bus to Costco. Buses are very near the top of the food chain on Korean roads (the top place is held by the blaring tow trucks that converge on the scenes of motor accidents within seconds in order to clear the roads of wrecked automobiles, so quickly that I imagine they cause enough car wrecks on the way to their destined accident that it creates a steady and successful business; they even hold a higher place in the hierarchy of the roads than do ambulances, fire trucks or police cars. A short time ago, I saw one of these trucks, sirens blaring, heading full speed in completely the wrong direction up an exit ramp onto a busy freeway). In any case, the bus drivers are paid by the number of circuits they run in a day, so stopping for passengers seems to be a damn nuisance - you're barely in the doors before they slam shut. More often than not, you'll find yourself thrown halfway down the aisle as the driver hits the gas, propelling you firmly into the lap of a poor unsuspecting grandmother or businessman, who are usually sound asleep... another peculiar trait of many Koreans seems to be their ability to knock out almost anywhere, even while standing on subway line #2, the busiest in all of Asia.

So here I was, on the way home from Costco (with my precious Raisin Bran and cheddar cheese...oh, how thrilled I was to make those fine purchases...such commodities...) when the bus, like buses so often do here, inevitably cut across several lanes of traffic to a fanfare of blaring horns and rising blood pressures. One of these cutoffs (cutoffees?...mmm...toffees...), unsatisfied with simply making his displeasure known through curses and honking, decided instead that he would cut off the bus (a brave manoeuvre for a mere mortal in a mid-sized sedan). The competition was fierce. Car pulled up next to Bus, where Car's driver gesticulated and screamed madly for a few moments before making his daring move. Pulling in front of Bus, which was not easy because Bus was not about to be cut off by something as lowly as Car, Car immediately slowed to a crawl on this busy freeway. After a few tense moments, Bus leaned on his horn with no sign of letting up. After maybe five or ten seconds of steady horn blaring, Car finally relented and began to move again. A few short moments later, Bus had to stop for one of those irritating passengers. Car, noticing this, came to an immediate halt in front of Bus. After the passenger had boarded, Bus prepared for blastoff, but, much to his chagrin, that damn sedan was still blocking the road. Again, he leaned on the horn. Car waited, waited, waited....finally, using some logic I am not familiar with, Car apparently decided Bus had been punished long enough, and took off with a screech of tires, boldly and unflinchingly cutting off another 5 lanes of traffic in the process.

All that, and I haven't even begun to tackle the taxis or manage the motorbikes. We'll save those stories for another day.

(Hanna)