Courtesy of Cat Han
Korean summers are brutally humid. You sweat just looking out the windows. Nevertheless, we had broken down a large wardrobe and had to now carry these large planks of wood outside to a recycling area familiar to anyone who lives in Korean apartments. Illuminated, slightly removed, and watched over by a passionate "ajjoshi" seemingly desperate to make sure you take off every piece of paper and wash every piece of plastic. Even without cameras, there's always the fear that failing to recycle properly will result in a notice going up in the elevators about "somebody" not doing their job properly. The public gaze in this country is super real. People don't act right and avoid stealing stuff because they're inherently better people than elsewhere. It's often because there's an inescapable feeling that you're always being watched. It's known locally as either "nunchi" or "namui siseon."
So we struggled, back and forth. My niece and nephew joined in as we slugged long planks of wood to the tents outside. The security guard, by this point, had abandoned his television and decided to watch us instead. A white guy with a beard lugging wood around is always likely to draw attention, but when there's the possibility of someone fly-tipping or dumping rubbish without the requisite permits, the interest increases in magnitude. By the time we reached our sixth or seventh visit, the old lad was satisfied that not only were we doing things right but also that we had purchased the necessary stickers from the local administrative office for them to be collected. He decided that he would also help us stack them against the wall.
He stood somewhat proudly with his various medals spread across his shirt, his hat erect on his balding head. Though I didn't see it at the time, I'm sure there must have been a "Best Driver" badge somewhere on him. But, he was a good dude. Realizing that we were actually working and doing everything........