in the face and murderous as he waved his arms at her, signalling for her to move, and quickly. Although everyone could sympathise with her reluctance to keep walking into the intense heat we were surprised at her audacity.
‘I’m getting out of here right now before I faint,’ she screamed and pushed her way back past the following trail. No one was sure when she ceased being part of the group but by the next tour Olivia was no longer with us. Amos and Marilyn could never resist black humour about what really happened to her. Early next morning the buses left for the return trip to the university.
The following two weeks were intense. Visiting lecturers presented information on thousands of years of Korean history; more recent war-time atrocities suffered by the Korean people and the everyday customs and etiquette we were expected to learn and comply with. We were constantly watched, not only by Mr Kim but other junior assistants who had joined him and had taken on the sour facial expressions and attitudes of their mentor. The classes were required to be silent during sessions and any lapse resulted in loud chiding by the supervisors. Once, when a man had dozed off, he was woken by the sharp prod of a ruler. His startled reaction set the whole room off laughing, which was not approved of, of course, but there were too many involved to handle that time.
I was interested in the information being discussed but long, hot days in a crowded room and speakers who were often indistinct became a trial of endurance. The irritation of being watched and comments being obviously written against names had everyone on edge which was probably why at any opportunity we responded with inappropriate mirth; it was like living on the set of a slapstick comedy.
After classes finished I felt the need to get away for a while and headed for the rear gates of the university. At the best of times I am not comfortable being around people all the time. I had been thinking a lot about getting right away from everyone through this almost hidden gate. But I was spotted by Amos, Olga and Marilyn who had to satisfy their curiosity about where I was going.
‘I know it’s all getting rather confusing but do you know you’re going in the wrong direction?’ Amos said in his teasing voice.
‘No! Really?’ I held my hands to my face, play-acting shock. I told them I just wanted to go for a walk, to get as far away as I could from people watching and assessing me.
‘So-o. Do you “vant to be alone” a la Greta Garbo or can we come too?’ I laughed and said that of course they could come. I realised that I really did welcome their company.
‘I wanted to see what was beyond the back gate,’ I told them.
It was a good choice; there was a track leading to a small village that could be glimpsed between some hills. Tall bamboo grew at the sides and gave some shade. After we wound to the left around a hill there was a creek joining the other side of the path. We took off our shoes to cool our feet and scooped up mouthfuls of the clear water.
‘If you have any more good ideas like this I hope you tell us first,’ Olga said. The others agreed. We found some rocks in the shade and sat for a while and talked about what was happening next. In a week’s time we would have another week-long tour, centreing on Seoul, and then the final week would culminate in our being sent to the city where we would work. We had been told that the selection would be based on the observations of Kim and co. and the notes written against our names.
‘Does that mean I get the Siberian salt mines?’ moaned Amos.
‘No. That’s reserved for the guy who fell asleep,’ said Olga.
‘Well, if appearances count, Olga will have the top holiday resort with those gorgeous, natural-red toenails,’ Amos teased, and ducked as Olga made a mock swipe at him with her folder.
We wanted to go a little further before turning back; at least to see something of the village. Just around the next bend was a traditional Korean farmhouse, set back against a hill. It could have been from another century. Even the woman in the grounds looked dressed for a past era with a cloth bonnet and an ankle length skirt. We waved and smiled but there was no response so we tried again when we got closer. This time she turned swiftly and headed for the house.
‘Uh-oh, we’ve done it now,’ said Marilyn. ‘She’s gone to phone our Fuhrer to let him know about our defection.’
‘All of us are bound for the salt mines now,’ I said.
We decided we would see what was around the bend up ahead before we returned to the uni for dinner. The path started to widen and, as we got closer, we could see that a cement-bordered water channel met the creek up ahead.
Rounding the corner we saw pink-coloured foam at the bank of the creek; further into the channel outlet the water was red with blood. We were speechless as we saw the source of all the gore. A bull had been slaughtered and the head sat separately staring at us with frightened eyes.
Blood was concentrated on the concrete pathway but was running into the channel then into the creek and further upstream from where we stood. The partly dissected beast was spread over the ground, with what would have been a charming village scene in the background. Five burly farmers in wellington boots stood still and silent watching us for a few seconds and then burst into raucous laughter as we withdrew.
We walked in silence for a while still shocked.
‘It’s just a necessary part of life I suppose,’ Amos said. ‘In small villages like that they would still be doing things the way they have for centuries.’
‘It makes more sense than carting an animal off for miles to have them slaughtered,’ Olga added.
‘Yes, it’s true that it would be just a part of everyday life,’ I acknowledged. ‘But that wasn’t what disturbed me. It was the way they enjoyed shocking us as if that was a form of entertainment.’
The others agreed. Korea’s culture was difficult to understand: so many beautiful sights and generous hospitality but then such cruelty.
When we got back we found out quickly that we had been missed and somehow it was known that we had been outside the gate to the village and this was not approved.
‘What’s the worst they can do? Deport us?’ Amos said. ‘At the moment that seems like a favour.’
‘Maybe our little farm lady really was a spy,’ Olga laughed.
Four
The buses were lined up outside the dormitory block early Monday morning ready to leave for Seoul for the second and final tour. I had fallen asleep again after turning off the alarm, so the first two buses were filled. Amos was hanging out a window in the second bus, his arms reaching almost to the wheels. I thought he must have saved a seat for me.
‘Sorry,’ he called out loudly. ‘We tried to save a place for you but we have to fill up the seats in the order we get on. Not allowed to save seats or change them.’
I thought he must be joking but noticed that Olga was hemmed in at the window side of the backseat waving at me and then holding her hands out with both palms facing up and her mouth turned down.
My bag and pillow were getting awkward to carry so I put them on the grass while I walked along the row of buses, looking for a suitable spot to sit.
‘The next bus, please. Quickly, pick up your things and move to the back row.’ The command came from one of Mr Kim’s acolytes.
‘I
