Sometimes the most serendipitous moments happen “accidentally”, unless, like me, you believe there is a God who deals in delight. My friend, Katie, who I spent 3 days with on Jeju Island, parked her car. But that’s not where it began. Thinking ahead to the day she would fly from Seoul to Jeju to meet me, she drove to an area of town nearby the airport to scout for places to look to put her car for the three days should would be gone. For two days she noticed a particular spot empty each time she drove by it. It was perfectly situated on a narrow side street in Seoul and a short taxi ride to the airport. The day of her departure dawned and she drove back to the area. It seemed as if that particular space was reserved just for her. She parked, called a taxi and went on her way.
Several hours went by when her phone rang. “Why did you take my parking space?? I live there and that is where I always park my car!” Parking in Seoul is as precious as a gemstone. You must know how to parallel park, and perhaps possess magician like skill at dropping your car from the sky to fit in any size, shape and angle of space. So, Katie “taking” space that has been “claimed” was a reason for a clash of swords. She was so, so sorry, she said, and he wondered when she would be back. “Three days?” she said like a question, knowing that was not going to be well received. “That means you owe me dinner when you get back!” It was halfway joking and halfway….we will do just that, as a matter of fact. So Katie agreed and sent me a message before I left for Korea. “We’re going to dinner with a total stranger on Monday.”
Katie and I met our match with each other when it comes to an appetite for the spontaneous, turn on a dime, we’re doing what?? (i.e. public bath house, but that’s another story entirely) I decided to trust her gauge for the safety of the situation and Monday found us literally running through Jeju airport because Katie said we had plenty of time to board and we were going souvenir shopping in the airport. That was when I realized I shouldn’t have trusted her timing. I had picked out what I wanted to bring home and stood outside the store waiting on Katie. “TAMARA.” I turned towards my name in the air as Katie looked over her shoulder, running out of the store. WE HAVE TO GO. THEY’RE BOARDING. Good thing I’m quick. We made it to the gate with a line of people processing through. “I’ve got time to go fill our water bottles. Don’t let them leave without me.” WHAT?? And she disappeared into the people sea. Suffice it to say, as the last person ahead of me passed the gate agent, there appeared an out of breath Katie. We had water….and a seat on the plane.
We landed, grabbed a taxi and sent the parking stranger a text. Be there in 20 minutes. We pulled up to our car and he was waiting. The good news was he didn’t look like an axe murderer…but looks can be deceiving. I withheld judgement, but warily. We all introduced ourselves and then grabbed our phones to decide where to walk for dinner. For the initiated, Koreans do life by phone. Whether it’s a taxi, dinner, finding your way on the street to the pharmacy, looking for the right subway, etc. to the max….you must know how to use your apps. We decided on a soup restaurant a few blocks away and settled into our seats. I don’t know exactly how we got to the subject because they were speaking in Korean and Katie would fill me in as conversation breaks occurred. She actually was very good at it. He would speak and she would tell me in English what he had just said, all he while still looking at him because he had already moved on to the next sentence.
Mr. Song took a wife and together they had 4 kids, the youngest still in college, the oldest 40 years old. He was successful. Very. He lived a familiar storyline. Made bucketfuls of money, had women on the side, drank until early morning and was never present for his children. One day, now 20 years past, he had a thought that came from outside himself. “This is not what life is meant to be about.” He recognized it as God and decided he’d had enough. He gave most of his money away, left his “big shot” career for one in selling appliances, sold his house and bought a small one and left behind the rest like dinner clothes on the floor after a date; meaningless, wrinkled. He began the slow process of building a relationship with his children, long neglected. “Today,”he says, his brown eyes shining almost to the point of tears but he’s not crying, today I am happy with simple things. I don’t want to worry about money anymore or being “important”. I ask God what to do and He tells me and I do it. I don’t think in the same way; what I should be doing or being sure I’m “achieving” something. I just live my life and do what comes next. I’m a simple man living a simple life.” He has been to Russia and China more than once with his brother, who is a missionary there.
As we walked outside and back to our car, we bowed to each other, his bow deep as he held our hand to shake it. “What do you need from me? How can I be of help to you?” he asked my friend. She would let him know as things in her life became more clear. We all agreed that all of it felt on purpose, for a purpose. Katie backed the car out of the parking lot and as we drove away I watched him from the side mirror, standing quietly, arms folded in front of him until we disappeared from view.
Parking spaces can build bridges.
“I’m a simple man living a simple life”, and “How can I be of help to you?”. Beautiful words spoken from a man who knows his brokenness and is working on mending the past, focused on being of service to others. What a different world we would be living in if we too often asked, “How can I be of help to you?” to complete strangers after a simple meal shared.