Phone me and we’ll make some arrangements.’
I walked with Marilyn to the bus stop. I had decided to walk home myself so I could think. I wondered what was happening with Olga and Amos. Tomorrow, I thought, I would phone them.
Marilyn arrived early on Saturday morning. She banged loudly on the door, stripped her boots off and threw them into a corner of the entrance way, handed me a paper bag full of sweet bread rolls from the bakery in the laneway below and slumped into a lounge chair.
‘Myong-Ai’s not home is she?’ she asked in a half whisper.
I shook my head and held back the impulse to laugh at the way Marilyn had become so quiet after making such a racket coming in.
‘No. She left early for school and she’ll go to visit her parents when she finishes work.’
‘So we have the apartment to ourselves for the whole day. That’s a relief.’
‘She’s not so bad, you know.’
‘I’m not ready for meeting her yet, that’s all.’
‘We could go somewhere if you like,’ I ventured.
‘Maybe later.’ Marilyn paused and looked at Myong-Ai’s computer. ‘I really need to write some letters, to complain about my accommodation. It’s only been a week and I’m already going crazy.’
‘You could do that if you like while I do my laundry. I don’t think Myong-Ai would mind if you used the computer.’
‘What about you? Don’t you want to make a complaint? Neither of us has had our contract honoured.’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘I don’t feel at home here and I don’t like the way that everything I say or do gets reported back to the women teachers at the school. Myong-Ai tells me what’s been said and the comments about it every night.’
‘Then we should write joint letters. It would carry more weight.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘You don’t seem too fussed.’ Marilyn sounded annoyed.
‘It’s not that. I’d love to have my own place. It’s just that, well, Myong-Ai never complains about having me here and look where she sleeps in her own apartment.’ I made a dramatic gesture towards the tiny cupboard room and we both fell into irrational laughter. It was all just so ridiculous.
Most of the morning was spent drafting letters of complaint. By then we were hungry, so, while I got changed and ready to go out to find a restaurant nearby, Marilyn printed out the letters ready for signing and took the chance to explore the job situation on internet.
‘If I can’t get my own apartment I’ll need to find another job,’ she told me.
‘You really are desperate aren’t you?’ I said, not really taking her seriously. Over lunch we talked about this possibility.
We ate in a small restaurant in the downstairs lane and had not long returned when Myong-Ai came home. At the same time the phone rang. It was Olga, and I talked quietly to her while Myong-Ai spoke with Marilyn.
‘Why don’t you want to stay where you are living?’ Myong-Ai and Marilyn had already discussed the letters.
‘I can’t live like that. It’s not our culture for an adult to be living with another family and treated like a child.’
‘Would you like me to speak to the family and tell them how you feel?’
‘No!’ Marilyn said forcefully, her eyes widening. ‘I am quite capable of handling this myself. I just want what I am entitled to under my contract.’
Myong-Ai gave a little girl giggle, an irritating habit of hers when she was embarrassed or confused.
‘Olga wants to talk to you,’ I interrupted to tell Marilyn. ‘She has taken over a booking at a hotel in Busan during Chuseok and she wants us to go with her.’
Myong-Ai became very excited and was keen to be involved with the planning.
‘It is very lucky to get a booking so close to Chuseok. Everything would normally be taken because everyone goes to be near their family.’
‘Yes, well, Olga was offered a hotel booking by one of the teachers at her school who needed to cancel. It’s a large room for two adults and two children so there is plenty of space for three of us, and it’s near the beach.’ I told her handing the phone to Marilyn.
Myong-Ai wanted more information about everything. Why did the teacher want to cancel? Who was the teacher? Who was Olga? I was becoming more irritated by the second and answered in monosyllables while trying to catch what Marilyn was saying to Olga. I heard Amos’s name mentioned. Myong-Ai seemed oblivious to the effect that her questions were creating.
‘I have some friends in Busan. I will call them and tell them to look after you while you are there. Find out when the booking is for. I could come down one day and join you with my Busan friends.’
While I was still trying to frame a reply that would not offend, Marilyn, with one hand covering the phone, gave an embarrassingly emphatic ‘No’ and went on to tell Myong-Ai that this would be ‘our’ holiday and that we didn’t need people to look after us.
I felt embarrassed and awkward. I was annoyed by Myong-Ai’s intrusive interference with our private business but at the same time I was starting to understand my room-mate and to suspect that this was a very lonely and rather sad woman. I knew that over the holiday break Myong-Ai would most likely visit her family for a meal or two and sleep the rest of the time.
It was a relief when Marilyn finished on the phone and told me, gathering up her bag and belongings, that she had arranged for the two of us to meet Olga in town to make further arrangements. We would have to leave now. I felt like an irresponsible teenager but decided to ignore the risk of hurting Myong-Ai’s feelings. There was enough to deal with.
Six
Amos was waiting with Olga at Friday’s when Marilyn and I arrived. Marilyn was still grumbling, half under her breath, about Myong-Ai’s nosiness.
Amos was obviously pleased to see us. Marilyn had already filled me in on what had been happening with him. He had been given a share apartment with other English teachers: one of the ‘instant married’ couples from Ireland, who had only met since coming to Korea. They had since decided that they couldn’t stand one another but never-the-less were not going to take the chance on being placed with families as Marilyn and so many others had been. So Amos had been living in what he called a war zone. Screaming rows happened every night. Although Amos had his own room, he was always tripping over whichever of his flatmates was sleeping on the lounge room floor.
‘I couldn’t believe my luck when Olga phoned and asked if we would be interested in going to Busan for four days over Chuseok,’ I said as I slid onto a long bench beside Olga. ‘I really need to get away for a while but it didn’t seem likely. Apparently Koreans not only go back to their family homes at Chuseok but they also book out every hotel in the country. Will you be coming with us, Amos?’
‘Hardly … three ladies in one room
