Through The Looking Glass

It threatened to rain all day. The skies were a hazy gray. Drops would start, then stop. Late afternoon I decided I didn’t care if it rained or not – I needed to get out of the house.

I donned my hiking gear and started out. I’ve seen people disappear into a hedge not far from my house. It seems like there is a mountain there, maybe there are trails as well. I, too, slipped in between the hedge. A soft carpet of fallen pine needles greeted me. Even though I was mere feet from the busy street, I felt as though I had stepped into another world. I looked around. There didn’t appear to be any formal path. I walked around. I saw a steep ascent, with a rope strung beside it. I guess that’s the path.

I started up. I grabbed the rope. The few trickles from the sky had made the somewhat rocky, somewhat muddy path slippery. I continued with care. I was the only person in sight, yet I wasn’t alone. The chatter of the insects, birds, and critters was almost deafening. I swatted at the gnats and mosquitoes that attacked my damp face. I waved my arms, trying to dislodge myself from invisible spider webs I continuously encountered. About 20 minutes into my journey, I noticed a clearing to the right. Between swats, I saw a perfectly manicured garden. Rows upon rows of corn, beans, squash. What a strange place for a garden. Who would make the effort to climb this mountain, with tools, to tend a garden? Obviously someone, as the vines and stalks were flourishing.

I continued upward, still not another human in sight. The path became narrower. The rain became harder. It didn’t matter. The canopy of trees sheltered me from most of the drops and I welcomed the ones that got through, hoping they would cool my hot skin. As I grabbed hold of a tree and hoisted myself over a steep incline, I noticed a weight bench to my right. What a strange place for exercise equipment. Who would climb for a good 40 minutes, then rest upon a dilapidated bench, to lift weights? Odd.

The path finally leveled out. I more or less skipped along, enjoying the sounds of the forest. The sudden movements of animals unseen. My thighs burned from the upward trek. I took long strides, stretching my hamstrings with each wider and wider step I took. I noticed a glimmer to my left. I walked closer; it appeared to be a sign. I walked around it. No, it wasn’t a sign. It was a whiteboard. On top of a mountain. What a strange place for a whiteboard. At this point I spun around. This just didn’t make sense. Was this really happening? What were these strange things? To my surprise, no one was following me, preparing to laugh at my bewilderment. The items didn’t seem to have been planted. They really did belong there. In some strange way or another. I felt like I was in a Lewis Carroll story.

The trees became thicker, the atmosphere darker. To the right, to the left, were many graves, marked only by the mounds of dirt that remind me, for some inexplicable reason, of Hostess Snowball cupcakes.

I continued. The terrain took an upward turn. Up, up, up. Burn, burn, burn. Swat, swat, swat. More insects swarmed around me. I darted through a group of dancing dragonflies. Something else sparkled in the distance. I walked hesitantly. I still had not seen another human. All of the sudden I was upon a large clearing, filled with weight benches, mirrors, hula hoops, jump ropes – basically, an outdoor gym. Clocks were tied to the trees. I wandered in and out of the equipment, musing that if this were the States, there would be no equipment. Everything would have been gone the first night it had been left out.

The path started downward. I met an elderly man. Then a stout woman. Then a young couple. The path divided. I noticed there were quite a few cheap, plastic, dimestore clocks tied to trees. I had an odd sense that I didn’t quite know where I was.

I reached the end of the path. I peeked out through the hedge. I didn’t recognize the street or any of the buildings. I turned around and started to retrace my steps. I walked along the familiar path, coming to the outdoor gym, the tombs, the whiteboard. Somewhere after the whiteboard, I must have taken a wrong turn. I heard loud voices in the distance – people yelling? I continued. I came upon a larger garden than the one I first spied. The path seemed to lead me right into the center of the garden. I followed. The voices became louder. Drills? Protests? I was concentrating so hard on not slipping on the narrow, muddy descent that I didn’t notice where I was going. The path suddenly ended and I was at a opening in a wall. I bent down, ducked under, stood up. And froze.

I recognized where I was. The Daegu Metropolitan Police Agency. More specifically the Daegu Metropolitan Police Agency training grounds. Men were repelling down the side of the building. Men in formation were doing whatever men in formation do. Supervisors were supervising. I thought for a moment. Hm. This is a rather precarious situation. But I’m really not doing anything wrong. I just happen to be here. Where I probably shouldn’t be.

I began walking along the wall. I could tell I had attracted attention. Men were pointing. Someone was yelling in a bullhorn. Maybe to me, maybe not. I couldn’t understand the words. I briefly glanced up, mustered the most innocent look musterable, smiled the sweetest smile smileable. Then glanced down and walked as quickly as possible until I reached the safety of the sidewalk. With every step I took I expected to feel hands clamp my shoulders, questions shouted at me. But, no.

I kept my eyes focused on the sidewalk until I reached my apartment. As curious as I am, I had seen enough strange things for one day.