SEOUL-LESS: A JOURNEY FAR BEYOND THE TOURIST TRAIL (chapters 6-11)

Highly recommend you read chapters 1-5 first HERE or this will likely make no sense at all.

PART 2

I could delete every chapter of this book and change it to the same “this terrible thing happened, but then this wonderful human did something amazing for me”. Every bad thing that happened to me was somehow cancelled out by something kind someone did for me. So let’s re-write the last five chapters that way.

I found myself in a big legal mess, but the guy I just met at my hostel (and his father) stuck by me.

I was told to pay $10,000 but my amazing parents offered to pay it so I could be free.

I had to deal with the worst situation of my life in a 6 bed dorm room, but my cousin paid for me to move to a private room.

I couldn’t get back to my friends, so my friends connected me to their friends in Seoul.

I missed my trip to Hong Kong, so my friend in Hong Kong decided to come to me.

It goes on and on this way.

I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have so many loving and supportive friends. After posting my story on Facebook I got an outpouring of helpful advice, support and donations. I was apprehensive to accept money from people (being an independent person, I’m not all that interested in looking for handouts) but in the end it became obvious that it was impossible for me to survive in Korea indefinitely without help.

Eventually, my mum set up a Gofundme to help me and the donations soon got out of control. So many people showed me a kindness and generosity that makes me feel grateful and blessed to this day.

My Gofundme was soon shared on GirlsLOVEtravel and Korean expat Facebook groups which lead to strangers making donations which was extremely unexpected as well.

Money was collected in all of the schools that my boss owns and I was sent a very generous donation.

I was really shocked and overwhelmed by the generosity of humans.

I was getting thousands of messages a day from both friends and strangers and the care that people gave me was amazing. I spent most of my free time responding to these messages.

Honestly no words can ever express how grateful I am for the people around me.

Eventually it got to a point where I really did need to get legal advice. So I went to embassy and they provided me with a long list of English-speaking lawyers and a phone. The embassy told me they couldn’t directly recommend a lawyer for me. I flicked through the pages feeling lost, how was I supposed to choose a lawyer alone? I’d never thought in my life that I’d be in this position. After a long time of confusion and conversations with my mother. One of the embassy staff came back into the room and handed me a business card for a lady called Catherine, saying it was for a lawyer they had used before.

So I decided to call her.

That was the most nerve-racking phone call I’ve ever made in my life. 

But, luckily Catherine was amazing. She asked me to come into her office that afternoon. So I took the train to Gangnam and nervously took the lift to her office. And it was fancy! So fancy that I didn’t want to touch anything and I definitely did not know how to act in there.  

From the visit to the lawyer’s office, it seemed like my case wasn’t that difficult so I felt kind of hopeful that they would find a solution and that it was all a matter of time.

A few days later I was called back in and had a meeting with the team of four lawyers. It was in a big fancy boardroom and it felt so serious and scary from the beginning. The lawyers informed me that in fact, the case was difficult and I was advised to prepare “as much money as possible” to negotiate with later. It was completely different from what Catherine had said before. I was also informed that we only had a few days left before the Chuseok (Korean thanksgiving) holiday which would mean that everything would close and my case would halt for ten days. According to Tim it was very unlikely that I’d get out before then and also extremely unlikely that my travel insurance would pay anything to do with the incident in general. Things were bleaker than ever.

I stayed completely calm in the meeting (because I didn’t know if I was allowed to cry in such a fancy boardroom) but as soon as I got out of the building I called my mum crying and shaking. It was that moment- probably one of the all time lows of my life- on the side of the cold street in Gangnam that I decided to become a zombie.

It was necessary to zombiefy myself. I couldn’t deal with the situation and the emotions at the same time so I consciously decided to not be emotional and that I could put off dealing with my feelings until I was back safely in Surabaya.

So I detached myself from the situation completely. I ate for the nutrition, not because I enjoyed the food at all. I did what I needed to do, followed exactly what my lawyer and my mum told me to do. I sometimes chatted to other people staying in the hostel but rarely spoke about myself, I answered any questions they asked me as vaguely as possible (never talking about my situation) and changed the topic from me as soon as I could.

I passed time on my phone, answering messages from family and friends (though I asked them to mostly talk about themselves because it was getting too stressful to talk about myself all the time), listening to podcasts, visiting a nearby pet shop to see the kittens and eventually methodically colouring in a “Kakao friends” postcard colouring book.

I didn’t feel anything and I didn’t cry again.

I was a zombie.

I spent my 28^th birthday (and also the 2 week anniversary of the accident) in Korea, far from the party I had been planning for myself to have in Surabaya.

My lawyer asked me to come to her office. So I had a little birthday breakfast at Starbucks and headed back to that fancy place. Catherine presented me with a gift: A memory stick. She told me it was a “very lawyery gift”, but I don’t have enough experience with lawyers to really know.

I was to spend my 28^th birthday at the court with my other lawyer- Mr. Moon. Writing out my official statement of the accident. Mr. Moon and I were standing on the side of the road waiting for a bus to the court. He barely spoke English (don’t worry my other lawyers did) but he could kind of understand it. So we communicated by him trying to say something, me guessing what he was trying to say and then him saying “yes” when my guess was correct.

Standing there “chatting” to Mr. Moon, reality suddenly hit me.  He was incredibly handsome.

So there I was, a (just turned) 28 year old woman in a very adult situation being completely ridiculous and childish texting my mum about a cute guy (who happened to be my lawyer).

Then the second reality hit, I suddenly recognised that ridiculous giggly, silly person sending the texts as…. myself. This made me a little sad to wonder who I had been for the last 2 weeks. I also felt suddenly aware that my trauma must have been pretty bad. It seemed impossible that someone wouldn’t immediately recognise how handsome Mr. Moon was! I suddenly realised how messed up I actually was.

Mr. Moon was cute and smiley which seemed extremely appealing after 3 weeks around the cold, too cool for school Koreans I usually saw around. As we walked through the metro station Mr. Moon made a phone call. After talking on the phone for a couple of minutes he handed it to me. When I took the phone I heard a girl’s voice “Hello, I’m a friend of your lawyer. He wants to tell you that he’s sorry about your situation and sorry that he can’t speak to you well but he’s going to look after you and get you out of there”.  This was adorable.

I started to imagine the “Korean husband” scenario again and truly it could have been the beginning of a beautiful romance aside from the fact that Mr. Moon was a Korean lawyer and there was nothing I hated more in that moment than Korean law. Sometimes it’s just not meant to be.

So I spent my birthday in a court, with real-life prisoners walking around, wondering how likely it was that I’d be imprisoned like them. I wrote my story by hand on 9 A4 sheets of paper, while a translator typed it up in Korean. The translator was initially super serious and professional until he started reading my story and at several moments I heard him mutter “fuck!” and “are you serious?” under his breath as he translated it. It seemed quite supportive.

Later, I said goodbye to Mr. Moon and returned to my hostel. Lee messaged me and told me to meet him upstairs. As I walked upstairs and slid the door open there was a massive “SURPRISE!” and everyone in the hostel was sitting there with a cake, presents for me and some snacks. I was so overwhelmed and amazing by their generosity, especially as most of them only knew me as some sad, zombie-like girl moping around all the time. I spent the evening with them, eating Korean BBQ and drinking cocktails at a rooftop bar.  

I’d say it wasn’t the worst birthday I've ever had, but that would probably be a lie.

My real birthday gift came just two days later, the last day before the Korean Thanksgiving holiday was to begin- the deadline to settle my case before the ten day break. I had already started to prepare for the likelihood of another two weeks at least in Korea, by making plans to do things instead of moping around. That morning Catherine called me up, asking me to come to her office.

When I arrived at the office, Catherine told me that there was a good chance we could make a settlement that day and have my travel ban lifted. Of course, after 3 weeks of ups and downs I could hardly believe it was real. She told me that the family’s lawyer was on the way and that I should go have a coffee. So I went to Starbucks, somewhere between nervous, excited, not wanting to get my hopes up and too zombiefied to actually feel anything concrete. It took longer than an hour for the lawyer to arrive, so I wandered around the area around the lawyer’s office anxiously fantasising about not being in Korea, about smelling the sweet smells of Surabaya- durian, humidity and pollution, but really I didn’t care where I was as long as it wasn’t Seoul.

When Catherine called me back to the office. The documents were there. We signed them, fingerprinted them and before I knew it, it was done. Mr. Moon bowed for a final time as he exited the room, rushing to the court with the signed contract to have my travel ban lifted. My hero.

I said a sad(ish) goodbye to Catherine and Tim (my other lawyer) but I kind of regretted never saying anything to Mr. Moon. As I was leaving Tim suddenly said “when our partners visit from abroad we usually take them bike riding. We might change that now.” I guess I made an impact, in a weird way.

Catherine called later to let me know that my travel ban was successfully lifted and that I was free to leave Korea. Finally, after 3 weeks my 5 day “holiday” was coming to an end.

I arrived at the hostel and handed the Korean version of the contract to Lee. I’ll never forget the smile on his face when he read it.

Due to Thanksgiving almost all flights out of Seoul were sold out until Tuesday, so I booked a flight for Tuesday morning, I was so happy to know I only had 3 days left.

That evening I met with my Indonesian friends Lina and Farah and ate Indonesian(ish) food. We celebrated the end of my case and my birthday. We also saw a billboard of a Korean artist who closely resembled my dear lawyer, Mr. Moon (see the photo in Chapter 9 for reference).

My wonderful friend Bethany decided to come over from Hong Kong to spend the weekend with me. It was such a blessing. We did all the great touristy stuff. She was impressed at how well I knew the city, whenever she mentioned a place I’d reply why “yea, I know where that is, it’s near the police station” or “ohhh, that’s near the Australian embassy”. I guess my idea of Seoul is quite different from most tourists.

The night before I left I went for a Thanksgiving picnic with Lee and a few others in a different area of Hangang Park. Not long after arriving, someone fell off a bicycle on the bike path in front of us. Lee and I only exchanged traumatised glances. Luckily the person who fell didn’t face the same consequences. But there’s some kind of meaning there, in seeing a bike accident right before I left.

As I hugged Lee goodbye that night, I felt a sadness wash over me. It didn’t make sense. For weeks I’d been trying to leave Korea and now that I was leaving Korea I was sad about it. It’d been a long time since I cried or felt any kind of emotion, but in that moment I just let it flow. I sat for over an hour in my room in the hostel I’d lived in for more than three weeks sobbing and thinking the tears would never stop.

A few hours later, at the hideously over-crowded airport I found a new anxiety. I was so scared that there would be a problem and I wouldn’t be able to leave. I checked into my flight and made my way through the long immigration lines. It felt like I was waiting hours. As the officer passed me my passport and allowed me to enter the airport lounge, I felt so much relief. I started sobbing, crying tears of happiness, relief and hope as I made my way to my flight out of my jail.

It was not easy for me, flying alone to Jakarta. It was the first time I really felt alone. I’d always had my phone at least to text or call someone but for the first time I felt the weight of my situation and trauma on me and me alone.

So there I was, the girl who moved to another country alone, who had solo-travelled extensively and who just survived three horrible weeks in Korea, barely coping with a 6 hour flight home.

When I arrived in Jakarta, I felt extremely cheerful. I asked inane questions (in Indonesian) to as many random staff in the airport as I could while I waited for my flight to Surabaya (“where is my gate?” “where can I buy food?” “what time does the flight board?”) I asked in Indonesian, even though I knew the answers. It felt so comforting to be able to take care of myself and communicate to people around me without Google translate and I couldn’t get enough of it.

Arriving at work the next day, I plonked an assortment of random souvenirs on a desk writing on the whiteboard above “please take a souvenir of my nightmare”. My friend commented that “Souvenirs from my Nightmare” would be a great name for an album and I agree. If the fake movie version of SEOUL-LESS: A JOURNEY FAR BEYOND THE TOURIST TRAIL needs a soundtrack, that will be the title.

But the longest lasting souvenir was the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder which made me into a lifeless zombie a lot of the time, gave me persistent nightmares and flashbacks, made me afraid to be alone and left me crying over pointless things and not caring about important things.

Luckily, I was able to fid a psychologist in Australia who could give me counselling via Skype. The reassurance from her that what I was experiencing was normal was the start of the healing process which I’ve made great progress into.

At the end of December, more than three months after the accident, I received the money from the insurance. I could hardly believe it even as I was staring at the largest sum I may ever see in my bank account because I had never once thought the insurance would actually come through. Paying my parents back and returning to being a debt-free human was another weight off my shoulders.

And time is healing most of my other issues.

Still to this day, I panic if I see bicycle coming towards me. Still I cringe when the accident flashes through my mind (though the flashbacks happen less and less regularly) but mostly I am okay.

A few weeks back I was joking about Korea to some people I hadn’t seen since before the accident. One of them commented “Oh, you just joke about it like that?”

Yes! Yes, I do. It has been almost 10 months since it happened and I don’t plan to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I carry the awareness of how lucky I am with me constantly, I’m eternally grateful for the people I have in my life. And yes, I would rather laugh about my handsome lawyer or crazy French roommate than ever cry about it again.

EPILOGUE

On the last day at my lawyer’s office, my lawyer Tim recounted my experiences in Korea. He told me that things just kept happening in the worst possible way, over and over again. He told me that he felt sorry for my incredible bad luck. From an unlikely bicycle accident itself to a legal system that disfavors foreigners and on to all the problems I encountered along the way. When I look back on things, I recognise that I was very unlucky but I was incredibly fortunate too.

I know that not everyone has a support system like I have. I know that not everyone is blessed with family, friends, co-workers and strangers who were willing to give time, prayers and financial support. In the end, I would have gotten nowhere without them. Things could have been much worse.

When you can be at the lowest point in your life which seems to get worse and worse, but the people you have in your life can still cancel out that amount of bad luck, I think you have to admit that you are lucky.

And I know I am.