Missed Connection

you let me sweat on you-w4m masan, changwon-si

I’m prone to getting lost. I hope you won’t hold this against me. To be fair, I think this proclivity could lead to a bevy of cute stories. “Well, friends,” you’d excuse yourself. “I’m sorry to cut the Baduk game short, but Allana has gone and gotten herself turned around again.” This routine could become our thing—me, getting lost; you, coming to my rescue.

I saw you on the streets of Masan. You were wearing olive hiking pants and sitting on a low garden wall. I was wearing an old college shirt and mesh running shorts. You were calm. I was frantic. You were self-assured. I was lost. It was my first weekend in my new city and I had gone on an exploratory run, and found no one and nothing of note but you.

I made my move. Showed you a Hangul address I could barely read. “Where...it...is?” I mangled the attempt at Korean. No matter— we were vibing and you understood my plea. Following your gracefully extended fingers, I indulged in a final searing gaze and tore myself away to clamber into the suggested taxi.

I don’t need to tell you the next part. You were there. You saw what happened. The mangled pronunciation of my home address and crumpled 5,000 won bill weren’t enough for the apathetic driver—he shooed me out. It’s an embarrassing thing, being rejected in front of somebody you like. As you stared into my soul (~swoon~), something shifted in your eyes. Suddenly, you were in this as much as I was. Committed. Out came a sporty little scooter. Kind stranger, you took me home.

Winding through the streets of Masan, a 60-something ajeossi and a 20-something foreigner, we made a visually arresting pair. People stared, sure, but who can judge true human connection in a world so otherwise jaded? I clung tighter, awash in your radiating calm. We reached my apartment and I disembarked, suddenly bashful. Perhaps you wanted payment? Nope, you refused. My number? You never asked. Maybe the language gap caused you to pause, believing the obstacles to be insurmountable. Not so, I say today. Too shy then, I let it drop. We smiled, waved goodbye, and parted ways, hearts full of regret and longing.

Noble stranger man, I really think we had a connection. Perhaps our easy geniality has been lost in the intervening months. However, I can’t help but believe that, with your superior directional capabilities, we can find it again. And if you ever just want to get lost together—well, I can help with that. hmu a3

Allana Wooley is a 2015-2016 ETA at Masan Girls High School in Masan, Gyeongsangnam-do.