Or how I learned to stop worrying and trying to explain the concept of a house fire to a random Korean guy.
So picture this, it is cold as heck outside I am walking back from a successful night of badly teaching college students conversational English. It is snowy and super cold outside, the night is clear and the breath escapes my mouth as a white poof. Everything is calm and tranquil since it is close to 9pm in the cold cold month of December. I was admiring the scenery of the 600ft walk from the bus stop to our school when out of the corner of my eye I saw something was a little different then normal.
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Part of the walk home |
To my right there was a building that has been under construction since before Amanda and I arrived in South Korea, it is a large structure so I assume it is meant to be an apartment complex. It is shrouded by scaffolding and generally pretty desolate looking, much like the apartment which are going up behind our school (completely ruining the view from our apartment window). So I looked at the building under construction and wouldn't you know it? There it was plain as night sky around me there was a freaking fire going on in the top floor of the building.
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Oh snap somethings burning on that top floor back there |
So I pause for a second, I am in a foreign country, out in the middle of no where, I don't know enough of the language for conversation much less emergency purposes. What the heck do I do now, I don't particularly want to see a building burn down (though that would be pretty cool to watch in a controlled environment mind you) but what good would I be. Behind me about 100ft is a road that is rarely traveled and somehow I don't think it would end well if I flagged down a random car filled with a Korea most likely who doesn't speak English and is probably scared of foreigners.
So I did what any sensible adult would do, I ran back to the apartment to get my wife so we can take pictures and gawk at the sight unfolding before me. So I ran to the apartment, set down the Subway sandwich I picked up for dinner (EAT FRESH) and told Amanda that there was a building on fire and that she should grab her camera. Then we dashed out the door to watch the burning happen in real time. We got down to the place, flames danced out the single window now and then, and you could hear the crackling or wood being burned.
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Fire baaaad |
So I decided I was damned if I wasn't going to do anything about this so I decided I was going to go ask the people at the restaurant by the street for help! I ran to the restaurant and went inside. I was sure to wipe my shoes off thoroughly (a fire is not an excuse to be rude). I went up to the counter and said fire and motioned him to follow me. The glazed look of confusion on the middle aged mans face behind the counter told me I had made a grave mistake even trying. I tried to make a motion of fire with my hands and repeated fire a few times, however it did not work, his expression did not change. I am sure he was either scared of the crazy white person who intruded on his restaurant or was now under the belief that I as my mother enjoys putting it "cognitively sluggish."
I'm sure my cheeks began to glow as I stood there not sure what to do, and probably looking dumber and crazier by the second and I added what I would consider to be fire noises to my already strange show. "Whoosh!" I said and I had my hands dance wildly upward. Suddenly I realized I had both a phone and the universal tool that is the internet at my disposal. I quickly grabbed my phone and tried to access Google, which quickly failed because the signal inside the building was shit. I turned and walked towards the window as the middle aged Korean man stared at me. I can still feel his confused stare burning into the back of my skull.
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Last picture |
I accessed the magical tubes of the internet and attempted to spell out "fire in korean" however due to my massive sausage fingers this effort took me several tries and probably almost a minute of annoyed swearing before I achieved the desired words. I combed the internet the looking, and finally found a good translation. Proud of my majestic wisdom I strolled back to the middle aged man and repeated the word "BUL" to which the mans expression did not change in the least. Finally, feeling defeated I shoved my Korean phone in his face and pointed to the actual spelling of fire. Finally the man looked slightly more interested in what I was trying to say. I motioned him to follow me and we went outside and around the side of the building.
I pointed happily up to the fire as if I was a dog proudly showing off a stick I had found. The middle aged Korean man simply looked at me waved me off and walked back inside. I stood there perplexed what the hell was I supposed to do now? I felt the cold air come over me as my high about doing the right thing began to fade. It was cold, it was almost 10pm at this point, and I was tired. I walked back over to Amanda, and I explained to her what had happened with the man. Then walked out way back to our apartment.
I wish I had a more exciting ending to the story, but I guess something happened there because the building is still standing, and strangely enough doesn't seem to have sustained any fire damage. Other nights when I have walked home around the same time a fire isn't present. My director when I asked about it also waved me off without telling me what was happening with the building. I'd say I was going insane but the pictures with the obvious fire say otherwise.
So basically the moral of the story is if you see a fire in a foreign country, do as much as you can until an old man shoos you away.