A Marriage Proposal

Every once in a while, one of my coworkers will decide to leave Korea and head back home. At these times, there will magically appear a list of prized and not-so-prized possessions that the aforementioned person wishes to sell to whoever will pay the top price. During my second year in Korea I managed to buy a small motorcycle for 1 million won (about $1,000).

To ride my motorcycle (legally) I had to obtain a Korean drivers license, and the closest testing center to where I live is a city by the name of Wonju. It is a mid-sized city of a couple hundred thousand people smack in the middle of the country. The high-speed train can take me from Yongmun to Wonju in about 40 minutes. Wonju is far enough away from Seoul that there is a distinct lack of foreigners there. In fact, In my visits to the city, I have never seen a non-Asian there. The lack of white people actually did not phase me at first, until I passed a bunch of elementary students who just stood still and gawked at me when I walked by. I guess they had never seen a European in person before. After taking (and failing) my driving test for the first time, I had about two hours to wait until the train would arrive that could return me home. I spent that time going through the traditional market found in downtown Wonju. Although not a single vendor that I spoke to could speak any English, I was still able to get a few nice items for Christmas gifts. As I was walking through a street of tailor shops, a middle-aged man stopped and started speaking to me in fluent English. He started telling everything about his job, where he went to school, his home, and he started asking me questions about where I lived, went to school, and what I did for a living. When he heard that I was a teacher, his eyes lit up, and he started to tell me that his daughter needed an English tutor, and he started to make plans for me to fill that position. He started to say that he would pay the train ticket every week, and there was an extra room at his house, and...

Now, I did not want to be rude, but I firmly told him that my schedule was full, and I did not have time to do extra tutoring on the side. He looked a little crestfallen, but I am really jealous of my spare time. Besides, I do not really know him or his family at all, and it seems really awkward to go to someone's house to tutor a small girl. Before I left, he insisted on trading business cards. I walked away thinking that this would be the last time I would ever see that man.

Fast forward 30 minutes, and I am entering the train station. Guess who I see? The man was there, apparently waiting for me, only this time he came better prepared, for he brought his little girl with him. 'Little' is relative though, as she ended up being older (maybe 18 or 20) that I had anticipated. This man grabbed his daughter's hand, and dragged her over to me, speaking loudly in English "This is the English professor I was tell you about!" The poor girl looked mortified. Her father kept on with introductions there in the crowded station. She did not say anything. He mentioned that they were traveling on the same train as me (what a lucky coincidence) and their seats were right across from my seat (I have no idea how he pulled that one off) Finally, the father asked me "How old are you, 24?" This seemed to be an opportune opening, and I took it with zeal. "No sir, I am 36 years old"

Did I mentioned that she looked mortified when he first brought her over to me? I was wrong. Now she is M-O-R-T-I-F-I-E-D. For his part, the man looked like he was having a heart attack. The 40 minutes that we were on the train were very quiet, as both of them refused to even look at me at all. Maybe it was something I said...