Sad Giraffe

First, I would like to thank the dozen or so senior citizens of Seoul who made it possible for me to be here in front of my computer right now, writing this blog.  If it weren't for you I would most likely still be up near the North Korean border, wandering around in a giraffe costume, helplessly saying "Seoul National University of Education Station? Please? Please?"  Thankfully I know how to say that in Korean, but more so than that, thankfully 'pathetic' is something that transcends the language barrier.

It all started with the 10k Halloween Run, which after a night of too much wine, turned into a 5k Halloween Walk.  No excuses, but I did forget my ipod, the creature in my chest was still having a party, and I had decided that dressing as a gypsy, in a floor length gown, was a good choice for a run - Cat Class decision making skills are rubbing off.  After watching a few people who ran the 10k pass me on the way to the finish line, I decided that maybe it best to turn my attention away from the run and onto the post run activities.  As luck would have it everyone was in the same mindset and drinking commenced right around 10am.

After some flip cup, soju shots, and some other drinking games, I had somehow gone from being a gypsy to a giraffe.  The details are hazy, but a friend of a friend had brought a 2nd costume and I somehow ended up in a giraffe suit.  8 hours after the end of the run, the drinking/not eating had become too much and I decided to pack up and leave without telling anyone.  Backpack on, inside a giant giraffe costume, I made my way to the subway station.

At this point I can't be sure what my first mistake was, but if I remember correctly (highly unlikely) I think I just decided that it didn't matter which line I got on, they would all lead to my front door. It was like I thought that every train in Seoul would know where I needed to go, and it would take me there.  So once in the station I entered the first place I could and hopped on the first train I saw, completely oblivious which direction I was headed or what stops might be on the way.  What I can only assume was about 45 minutes later, I snapped out of my haze and realized that I didn't recognize any of the stations they were saying over the speaker.  Awkwardly, I stumbled to the subway map on the train and tried to figure out where I was.  After blankly staring at letters and colors for 15 seconds I decided that loudly saying "Seoul National University of Education Station (in Korean)" was a better idea.  5-10 pleadings later an ajuma came up to me, grabbed my hand and motioned for me to calm down.  At this point she was all I had, so I quickly complied.

Randi "The Fox" 

Once the train came to the next stop the ajuma, still holding my hand, led me off the train.  We walked for a bit then she began talking to other random ajumas in the subway, the only thing I could make out of these conversations was the repeating of my station name. As they talked, they would look at me and laugh, obviously they found the attire entertaining. A few minutes later my fairy ajuma handed me off to another ajuma, who kindly led me onto another train.

On every train in the Seoul Metro there is an area reserved for elderly, pregnant or injured people.  Each car has roughly 10 seat for people who meet those requirements - I'm assuming everyone just classified me as injured that day because there I was, hand in hand with my second ajuma, seated in the special section.  She had already began discussing my next transfer with an ajushi sitting across from us and like a perfectly planned school carpool, he grabbed my hand at the next stop and guided me to my next train.

This went on 3 or so more times, once an ajuma or ajushi would reach their destination, they'd pass me off to the care of another responsible senior citizen.  Each time they exited they'd smile and kindly wave goodbye, i'd helplessly apologize and thank them repeatedly, attempting to bow with my giraffe hood always flopping over my face.

When I finally arrived at my station, I parted ways with the ajushi that guided me the last leg of the way, the anchor ajushi if you will.  As I exited the underworld I realized that it was completely pitch black outside, my friends who had left the party over an hour after me, had already finished dinner and were arriving at home and the realization of what had just happened began to set in. I fumbled into the door of my apartment, deciding that even though it was only 8:15 on Halloween Saturday, I should probably call it a night.  Then...just as I was settling in to watch an episode of Vampire Diaries (yes...Vampire Diaries) my friend Randi called...and she was ready to head back out.  So like any sad giraffe would, I hopped back in my suit and headed out for the 2nd time.  Thankfully by the time I decided to head home and call it a night for real a few hours later, the subway was closed and the cab driver had a navigation system.