Jung

This has been a difficult week.

I spent an entire day dealing with my computer. My synopsis. When I bought my computer (in Korea) I paid a good deal of money to have an English operating system installed. With a Korean option. That is, I could switch back and forth between Korean and English characters. Except, that never happened. Well, seeing that I’m leaving soon, I figured I might as well fix it. I might want to type an email in Korean. I might want to use these characters that stare from me every time I boot up my computer.

Sang Jae agreed to help me. We arrived at the computer store at noon. They gave me the run around. Even though I had a receipt, even though it was obviously a computer from their store, they said it wasn’t their business. I should have checked before I left the store. And besides, the owner’s wife was sick. I turned to Sang Jae. Will you please say something to them? I paid for a product – this is ridiculous. “I can’t. The owner’s wife is sick.”

At 6:30 pm I was still dealing with the computer issue. This time I was at a computer store halfway across town, near the army base. The computer store I had bought the computer from had outsourced the installation of the English operating system, etc., etc. They were charging me again to re-install “hangul”, or Korean capability. And they wouldn’t give me a copy of the English Windows XP they had installed. Even though I didn’t agree in principle, I agreed to pay what they were asking. I just wanted my computer back. We left. I was frustrated. Sang Jae was frustrated. We didn’t speak on the way home.

I still don’t have tickets to China. I spent 2 hours last weekend talking to the travel agent. Giving her the airport codes. The times. The flight numbers. Checking availability. The problem is, I can’t purchase the tickets until the Chinese airline confirms the tickets. And from what she told me, China doesn’t like Korea, so they will wait until the last minute to confirm the tickets, and even then, the tickets may not be valid. To me, this sounds like a bunch of bullshit. Sang Jae tried to explain it to me. The smaller travel agency that we went to can’t confirm tickets – they have to contact the larger travel agency. The larger travel agency calls China. They wait. And wait. No one will take my money until the tickets are confirmed and even then I’m told that China may decide not to honor the tickets.

I’m beside myself. I don’t understand why the tickets aren’t confirmed. I don’t understand why we’ve spent two days in her office and I have nothing to show for it.

Sang Jae says to me, “Let’s take a walk. Let’s hike. For a change.” Okay. It’s 100 degrees outside, but I don’t care. Maybe I can sweat all of the uncertainty and ill will out of my pores. We begin hiking. We climb up. I stop to stretch my legs. Sang Jae watches me.

“Lori. Lori. Do you remember jung?” I thought for a moment. I knew it was a Chinese word. A Chinese character I had learned in so-yae. I think so. Why? “What do you remember?” Let’s see. It’s how you relate to someone else. It’s how you treat them. Why? “Lori. You have to have jung. I think the English word – compassionate. Compassionate for someone. Be within the heart of them. In America. Egoist. Individualism.” Yes, Sang Jae. Individualism is very important in America. That’s the basis of our government. An individual’s rights. The right to worship as he or she pleases. The right to express him or herself how he or she wants. The right, the right, the right, to be. “In Korea. Small country. Many, many times invaded by others. Many people in small area. We help each other. We feel for each other. Jung. In another’s heart.” But only for other Koreans, right? I was playing the devil’s advocate and I knew it. “Yes,” he responded, as if there were no other answer. “Koreans have to help each other. Foreigners are bad. We always think of the other. We always in their heart. Jung. In America – jung?”

It’s different, Sang Jae. In America, there are many, many groups. Each group maybe is from a different country. Or has different beliefs. And I may not believe the way they believe, but my government protects them. My government says they can believe what they want to believe. I may not agree with them, but I respect them. Because that is our strength. The freedom of choice. When you would not speak to the computer store owner today, I could not understand that. You said his wife was sick. In America, that would not matter. I would not even know that. Maybe that’s a bad thing. Maybe it’s better that you think of the owner and his personal circumstances. But for me, that’s very difficult to understand.

“So in America, no jung.”

No, Sang Jae. It’s just a different jung. We have jung group to group, not individual to individual. I volunteer with a group. We help women whose husbands have beat them. We help prepare meals for people who have AIDS. When I was working in the US, I gave a percentage of my salary to help people who were homeless. Who had bad times because of a hurricane. An earthquake. A flood. But it is group to group. Not so much individual to individual.

We continued hiking. We reached the top of the mountain at dusk. We saw the lights of Daegu begin to flicker on.

“Lori.” I turned to face him. “Lori. I want you have the good memories Korea in your heart. Not the bad like today.” I know, Sang Jae. And I will. The bad memories, they will fade. I won’t remember them after I’ve left. I’ll remember the good. I promise. “Lori. Please. Please take the jung with you. You need the jung.”

I stared at the tiny pinpricks of lights in the distance. I thought. Yes. Yes, you’re right, Sang Jae. We do need the jung.