Lost and found

By Thursday, I had a vague map of Song do in my mind as well an actual map in my purse.  Jay and I went on one last, long, orientation walk from his present place to the old neighborhood so that I would be able to bike there when I borrowed the girls bike, which I’ve now done twice now.  I went for a ride yesterday to Central Park and the new mall.  Then I rode home, rested and met Jay and his fellow teachers around 10pm at a place near the school that specializes in terrific, crispy mung bean pancakes.  We ate them with spicy side dishes and soju.  Today I rode the bike to the old neighborhood so that I could hike up the hill there, as I did so often last year.  And I got lost coming down.  I locked the bike to a fence at the spot where I usually started last year and walked to the top with no problem.  I enjoyed the same view out over Song do, where we now live and had a chat with a retired Presbyterian minister.  He was a very welcoming person, I guess the profession fosters openness whether you’re born that way or not, but I was surprised by the way he sat down close to me on the bench and began to talk.  Koreans are usually quite aloof, but that’s probably because most of them don’t leave the peninsula.  His English was quite good and he had traveled the world, including 2 trips of about 3 weeks each to Canada.  He is very happily retired, enjoying not having to smile and deal with other families’ problems.  He makes breakfast for himself and his wife each morning and then she goes swimming because her knees are bad and he chooses a place in the area to hike in.  He has 3 children and 6 grandchildren.  I enjoyed our chat, said goodbye and started confidently back down.  I turned off the main path to visit the temple I often went to last year and then the confusion started.  I took some wrong turn and ended up in a Fellini movie, except set in Korea, not Italy.  The paths were all similar, dusty and covered in dry pine needles, strange looking people in long pants, gloves, headgear, dark glasses and sometimes even face masks wandered indistinguishably around me.  I passed the same row of white lilies and the same two old men playing chess (that sounds more like Bergman) about 3 times.  I felt almost dizzy and absolutely stupid.  And then as mysteriously as I had got lost, I was found.  I followed the path back to the bike. 
The ride home was easy; I celebrated knowing where I was by going to the mall, ordering an iced cappuccino and drinking it outside as I read my book.  I’m home now waiting for 9:00pm when Jay, May, the girls and I will meet for another special Korean meal.

Skyscrappers surrounding Central Park in Song do

Totem poles in Central Park 

More totems and skyscrappers

Last of totems and skyscrappers

Tamaracks supported by posts.  Many trees in the local parks are supported like this or by an even more complex patterns of poles.

The view of Song do from the top of the hike

The big-bellied Buddha is still happily seated in front of the temple