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To the Old Woman on the Bus

November 22, 2014 barefoot.ballad@yahoo.com
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To the old woman on the bus, I saw you shuffle on to the bus with a calm demeanor that seemed to contradict the rushing, busy city around you. You lowered yourself on to your seat designated for the elderly, and I saw your eyes rest on me for a few seconds. It's no wonder, since I'm the only white face amidst a sea of Koreans, crammed on the lurching bus. It was standing room only for those who are not elderly or with children, so I was clinging to the bar on the bus as it jumped forward and screeched to a halt at the numerous stops on the route to my apartment. A smile couldn't help bus escape from my lips when I saw you nonchalantly and unashamedly lean forward to see what I had in my shopping bags.

to the old woman on the bus

After 45 long minutes, the bus had spit out most of its passengers, and you and I were among the 15 or so people left.. I was still standing and clinging to the bar, lost in my own little world. It had been a long day, and perhaps that showed on my face. I missed my family, my friends, and being in a familiar place. While living overseas can be exhilarating, it is also an exhausting and discouraging process at times. My day of shopping had been frustrating, and once again I hadn't found what I needed. This is one of the times where I just wanted to be home, and as wonderful of a country Korea is, it just wasn't cutting it today. Loneliness, discouragement, and homesickness crept its way into my heart today, and a long bus ride is the last thing I wanted to be doing.

to the old woman on the bus

When I lived in Indiana, I desperately schemed ways to travel the world, yet now that I'm following those dreams, I find myself daydreaming of our old apartment, the school I taught at, and family get-togethers. I think about how easy it was to call my friends and have them over for a meal.

Why am I so prone to discontentment?

Lost in my thoughts, I felt a tap on my leg, and looked down to see you smiling and motioning for me to sit beside you.

That small action broke the stereotype of the fierce, no-nonsense ajumma (elderly women) of Korea that seem to be the country's lifeblood.  After I shuffled into the seat beside you, you grabbed my hand and patted it, further surprising me. Chatting at me in Korean, you asked where I was from, and I replied with "America". That's about all I understood, and I got the impression you knew I had not a clue what you were saying, but you continued to gently speak to me and smile. You patted my knee with a hand that reminded me of my grandmother's, and suddenly I didn't feel so lonely.

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The bus finally lurched to the stop in my neighborhood, and I bowed to you as I stood to exit the bus. With a grin, you bowed your head back. I left the bus grinning, the gray cloud lifted from me.

Thank you for pulling me out of my loneliness.

It's these moments that I cherish when I travel. Small moments with small interactions that change a place from a destination, a sort of life phase purgatory, into a home.

to the old woman on the bus
to the old woman on the bus
to the old woman on the bus

To hear more stories from our life in Korea, click here.

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