Unexpected Experiences

I've been unable to blog a full account of our adventures because the past two days have been a long quest for pyjamas, clean underwear and a towel.

Thanks to Air Canada, what greeted us at the end of our 19 hour flight was an empty baggage carousel and the thought of having to spend even more time without clean clothes. Rather than contemplating what to do first in Korea, we brainstormed creative solutions to explain our lack of appropriate attire to our guests, which is especially offensive in a country where everyone is impeccably dressed. The most creative and hygienic idea was to turn our sheets into togas and pass them off as a national Canadian costume. Worst of all, we had booked a tour to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) with North Korea, which had strict rules not to wear jeans, mini skirts, or military attire. Since almost all of us were wearing jeans, this threatened to derail our entire schedule.

We settled into the Samsung International-House at Ewha Womans' University, which despite being an all-girls university, does accept males for its I-House and select grad programmes. Settling in and refreshing without luggage amounts to brushing teeth (if fortunate enough to have carried one) and experiencing the sensation of wiping our freshly washed faces with toilet paper. We went on a hunt for food but discovered that most places around Ewha were closed, so when we finally found a place and finished our meal, the packed streets and bright stores had closed. No one wanted to face the possibility of sleeping in the same clothes we had worn for 27 hours, so thus began our quest to find pyjamas, clean underwear and a towel.

At Watson's (an Australian drugstore), we scored toiletries, $1 socks, and had to make do with face towels. The most satisfying achievement was finding packaged t-shirts in a tiny convenience store Mini Shop, which served splendidly as pyjamas. It sounds as though we were living in the bush, looking forward to the luxury of a single clean t-shirt, while we were actually in a metropolitan city.

This is not an exaggeration. Appreciate your showers and clean clothes.

Fortunately, the tour company said that jeans in good condition, that were not faded or ripped, would be acceptable. So the next morning, we embarked on a riveting seven hour tour (more about this later), and upon returning to Seoul, continued our search.

After combing a large indoor market which held at least a hundred small shops, we resorted to sign language. We were given a firm "no", and Koreans like to communicate their "no's" by forming their arms into a large X, like a road-crossing symbol. Finally, at some small informal shops on the street, we found what we needed, save the towels, which calls for shower #2 with towels that would be perfect for newborn babies.

Next, at a Korean restaurant with wonderful food cooked at our tables, we endured an unexpected attack from an inferno of spice. True spiciness can only be quantified by numb tongues, burning lips, contracting throats, three empty napkin dispensers, and stomachs that protest the intolerable assault of fire.

But the good news: Air Canada has found our luggages, and now we can look forward to changing into clean clothes after a shower and a new outfit for tomorrow morning after wearing the same clothes for such a long period of time that no one wants to calculate how long it really is...