I suppose that the fear I felt was just different from normal fear - absent of a racing heart mostly - so it was hard to recognize. But I do remember now that after falling back into the water, there were many thoughts that went through my head, many of them concerning whether or not I would make it up onto that rock. I don't care who you are, if you value your life or anything in it, I think feeling uncertainty about a possible-life-or-death outcome despite knowing you will put forth your best effort to fight, will result in a feeling that is meant to be captured in the meaning of 'fear.' It was almost a combination of complete persistence and mild-hopelessness, if you can imagine such a feeling, because I understand that the description doesn't make much sense at all.
(I'm saying this because I wanted to clarify that I am not as 'heroic' or 'fearless' as I may make myself out to be, or as you may make me out to be, in saying that I felt no fear. Because in reassessment, I think I was blinded by ignorance.)
Black goggles, light blue short-sleeved shirt, olive green pants, and pink socks - stuck to the emotionally-helpless body of a seemingly-uncomfortable shape of complete vertical asymetry (strangely enough, because I'm sure the body took the most comforting position at the time). After following Coach on four legs to a more safe, dry spot, this is the visual that remained situated, trembling, for the next few minutes. With the right foot flat on the rock, right arm resting on the knee to provide a temporary refuge for a heavy head, I let the emotions pour for a few moments until my soul decided to conjure enough strength to lift my eyes and search through my tears for the image that had just a few minutes ago been so close, so real.
I can't really say what I was looking for. I know that my mind was not contemplating going back in, and I wasn't looking for a sight to torture my thoughts. Maybe I was wondering where the waves had taken him. I also remember wanting to know where he was incase the ER team, which was quickly arriving, needed to know, so they could more quickly complete their task of retrieving the body - although I had absolutely no intention of trying to make any sounds reminiscent of words in the case that I could provide such information. More likely, I was looking for a something of substance - something that reminded me of the boy that had just been under my arms - to which I could say goodbye; to which I could send a piece of my heart.
After not much luck, my subconscious strength took hold and, with the help of my Coach, took me to retrieve my various strewn belongings. Mildly audible sobs replaced my breathing, and if I had made eye contact with anyone other than the boy's friends*, I think I would have been met by most of the eyes of the many onlookers who had been there to capture most of the scene. Luckily my mind did not entertain such an option, as I focused all my remaining energy to getting back up the cliff in my now-slippery shoes, with my eyes towards the ground, until we climbed over the barrier to the parking lot and made our way back to the car. I heard some words from various onlookers but in all honesty I don't think I would have understood any words coming from anyone other than my Coach at that time, no matter what the language.
(*My heart truly goes out to the boy's friends, because as I gave them my brief attention, their expressions of hardly any change in emotion signified a probable confusion, shock, and delay of processing the events. I wish to say nothing else about the friends other than I hope they put no blame in their minds for anything that they may have misconstrued about the situation.)
I got into the backseat of Coach's car and we drove to his home. As we were driving, my mind was somewhat paralyzed, unable to grasp the entirety of what had just transpired. I was also trying to be as quiet as possible because, although I know that Coach and his family are very intuned to my culture (as well as the fact that I may act differently due to culture even if they don't understand why), I wasn't sure how their culture dealt with such circumstances, so I'm glad that I was able to refrain from loud sobbing in the car for that reason. I was at an interim of sobbing fits, and was content to sit with my head in my hand, looking out the window as we passed through streets that looked familiar and yet strange, from the shade of a new perspective.
From the moment I emerged from the water, most of what I heard from Coach was a kind of 'sighing' and perhaps things reminiscent of 'oh my God,' although I can't remember exactly. In the car the 'sighs' continued (not often, but there), with nothing spoken much between us except for some 'should I get a blanket to put on the seat' type questions that I asked before getting into the car.
Soon after we started for his home, he called his wife (in a very calm voice, characteristic of him, but I could detect special softness in his tone at this time) and asked her to prepare a warm bath, and told her that we would be home soon. Since the word for bath/bathing sounds like the word 'to eat', I initially thought he was asking her to prepare dinner, but then as I realized what he was asking for, a feeling of warmth started to find its way into my wounded heart. It is from here that I think my healing began.
We got the the house, and I was a little worried about my mood. In Korea thus far, my mood has been a stable very-happy, especially around my Coach's family. They have never seen me enter their house, or enter a room or area, without a huge smile on my face. And I knew this was about to change. I knew that he didn't tell them exactly what happened either, but I'm sure that his wife knew from his phone call that something was very out of the ordinary, so I bet she prepared herself and my little bro for an abnormal meeting.
However, once I got inside and I saw my brother, it wasn't hard to put my troubles at least partially at bay and muster a smile. While the smile wasn't nearly as full as usual, it came with ease. If there is one thing I have learned from becoming an older-sibling figure (as well as a teacher), it is that kids are a special breed. Not only do they have a special energy that requires a different type of attention (and thus crippling the ability to ruminate in their presence), but they also don't have the capacity to comprehend many mature situations. My mind realized this without having to think about it, and while I was still obviously not the same enthusiastic, life-loving person that day as I normally am, my appearance was significantly less-traumatized when I saw his face.
Anyway, Coach and his wife directed me into the bathroom to relax. As I took off my wet clothes, I left on my bathing suit (which I had been wearing the whole time because I had swum before hand and not yet changed) as I climbed into the tub. I'm not sure why - maybe to attempt to wash away the experience of the past hour.
I sat in the warm water, head in hands, and allowed myself to sob again, but attempted to stifle the noise (again, partially because I wasn't sure of the culture, partially because of my little brother, and also just because I'm not the type of person to weep all out in front of others unless I am in their arms and then I am pretty much uncontrollable). However, I was aware of my surroundings, and aware of the time, and aware of the fact that I was using the only bathroom in their apartment, so I let about 10 minutes pass and then cleaned myself up and prepared to muster the strength to politely decline our usual Sunday dinner engagement.
After opening the door into the real world, once again it was easier to be more normal. There was a definite mood of mild apphrehension but nothing like I would probably have seen in the States or any other western countries. I walked out, set my bag of clothes down, and soon after told Coach that I thought it would be best if I went home. I'm not stupid - I know that I am more apt to ruminate about it if I am alone, but I also didn't want to ruminate about it in the presence of those that take such great care of me and ruin their afternoon, especially considering their culture might look down upon such brooding. (For the record, I am under the impression that Koreans do not brood as much, but probably do somewhat and let things go quicker. Also, Korean people generally do not show their emotions nearly as much as Americans do, so even if they were brooding you might not be able to tell. I don't mean to sound negative or judgmental towards Koreans in this way, I'm just stating observations and guesses. I actually think that one reason I am dealing with this situation as well as I believe I am is because my mood has become much more stable since living here as a result of their more peaceful nature.)
Coach consented to the premature trip home, but asked that I wait for him to take a shower so that he could take me there. As he had just driven 3+ hours that day (we had returned from Geoje Island early that morning), I didn't want him to have to drive even more when I could take a bus, but he gently insisted, so I complied. When he was in the shower, I played Jacks with my bro, laughing (although more sedated) and making various small talk. Coach's wife's mood was extremely stable (in the sense that it was just about as normal as it usually is) which was suprisingly not uncomfortable at all. But at one point, while 'playing' Jacks, she made a comment saying "don't think about it too much - it's not your fault", and without thinking my face contorted and tears started sprinting down my face. I turned away, wiped them on my arm, took a quick deep breath, and turned back, nearly composed. She then casually asked me if I wanted a tissue. It was a very interesting interchange, because her face didn't exhibit any sympathy at all (although I'm positive she felt for me), and I felt very comfortable and reassured. A smile followed soon after the tears and conversation was becoming easier and easier.
After Coach finished showering, everyone got up and started to leave. Although he said he was going to take me home, once we all got into the elevator I realized that that probably wasn't going to happen. While I still wanted to be alone, because no matter how much comfort they gave me I was still going to be traumatized to some degree, I of course would consent to having dinner with them if they knew the repercussions. And that's just what happened.
There was a decent amount of traffic so there was ample time to talk in the car. After a few minutes, I decided to get over myself and ask them what I was thinking. So I said, "If you were watching the situation that happened today, and you didn't know me, can you tell me honestly what you would have thought? I mean, I brought him to the rocks, which was clearly more dangerous than bringing him to shore. I know that Koreans are very honest. Do you think that people thought that that was a bad thing to do? Either way, it doesn't matter. I know they won't think all badly of me. I will just feel better if I know one way or the other."
After having merely asked the question and vocalized my concern, I immediately felt much better. Coach's wife said, "I think people thought you were brave, and that they were very thankful that you tried. Especially because you are a foreigner." Then she and Coach went on to say through a bit more elaboration that they both thought that I was very brave and that they were very thankful that I tried. I maintained my composure pretty well, acknowledging that my brother was sitting next to me, but also voiced a few of my concerns, talked it out a bit, shed a few silent tears, and shifted gears to talk about what kind of food we wanted to eat for dinner.
*I know that some of you might be wondering why Coach didn't go in after the boy (I posted a bit about this on a triathlon forum for a bit more support, and someone voiced that question), so I will address that now. We never talked about it, and I have to admit I didn't even consider this question until someone posed it on the forum. But after thinking about it, I believe or know the following things: a) I am a stronger swimmer than he is, especially in open water; b) I had my goggles with me and he did not; c) I had just swum in this water and thus knew without having to think that I could handle it; d) he does not have recent experience swimming in big waves. While it is true that his lifeguarding and CPR skills are more up-to-date than mine, I believed at the time (without having to consciously think about it) that I was the best option that this boy had at survival, and I believe that my Coach thought the same thing, for if he did not, I believe that he would not have allowed me to get into the water. I think many people think because he is my 'coach' (which, in fact, his relationship to me is not that of a traditional coach, something which can not be easily explained if you don't know our situation) as well as a man, that he should have been the one to jump in, and I do not agree.
Also, even if he were a better swimmer than I am, I would not fault him for not going in (let me include that he never persuaded me to go in by any means). The waves were very big, and the area had a lot of rocks around the peripheral, and it would have been somewhat dangerous for anyone to go in there, especially if they did not have full confidence in being able to battle the waves for their own life, never mind for another's as well. I hope that none of you judge him for not going in. In the end, in a situation like this, if someone has any doubts about whether or not to go in, I would (at least in hindsight) personally advise that they do not, because doubt can be a very dangerous factor in such an equation.*
As the day's events had left me feeling much less filtered than normal, I decided to utilize that feeling and ask about the status of my potential job as a triathlon coach in Korea for this upcoming fall (I felt that asking too many questions about it would be bothersome to him, especially since he was working very hard to make it happen, so I was originally planning to wait it out). I won't go into this conversation much, because it is the subject of my next entry, but I can say that it has a very exciting answer. If you want my advice, I'd tune in after a few days to read about it. :)
We ate our 낙지 볶음밥 (nakji bokkum bap, or spicy octopus and rice - one of my favorite meals) and discussed particulars of the job, and didn't talk much about the day's events, which was good for me. I initially hadn't wanted to go out because I thought that would be all I could think about, but after having addressed some of my concerns in the car and having a new exciting prospect on the horizon to ask questions about, I was able to put my feelings and internal images at bay.
As we finished our meal, I assumed they were going to take me home, although my mind was still unable to think about more than one thing at once so I wasn't really thinking about anything other than the present, which at that time was looking at an English comic book with little bro. However, when we got in the car, Coach asked me if I could see a movie with them, to which I agreed without consideration beyond wondering what time I gad to get up for work the next day.
I have to admit, they are very perspicacious. At no time did I feel like they had any plans to lure me away from my ruminative solitude, but I now believe that all along that was their intention - and they implemented it beautifully. Not once did they ask me with a sympathetic look if I wanted to be with people; not once did they suggest that being alone would make me feel worse; and not once did they make it obvious that they knew that this was the best thing for me and that my decision to want to go home was clearly the worse option. They merely seemed to sympathize with the torment that was going through my mind and quelled that torment with compassion and love; a love which from the eyes of an ordinary observer may have appeared nonexistent, but which I know in my heart was overwhelmingly present.
G.I. Joe actually turned out to be not too bad of a flick. Coach's wife told me that they wanted to see something else - something more happy - but no better option was playing at that theater (one of the other options was a movie about a tsunami... - but we had already seen it anyway :) ). As we sat in the theater eating our popsicles and waiting for the movie to start, I turned to them and thanked them for taking me out. "I know I said I wanted to go home, and I did. I didn't want to bum you guys out, because I knew I wasn't going to be in the best mood tonight. But I'm very thankful that you took me to dinner, and to this movie. I'm hardly thinking about it, and I already feel much better. So thank you, very much. I really appreciate it." They nodded, smiled, and briefly acknowledged their actions. And then I moved onto another topic of conversation.
As the movie ended and I stood up out of my seat, I realized that my foot was in a decent amount of pain. I had put a few bandaids on my ankle and my toe before dinner so I knew there were minor injuries, but my toe started to feel like it was broken. I limped out of the theater, and saw Coach limping as well (apparently he sustained a minor injury as well as he was running down the cliff). I told them that I thought I might have broken my toe, and took off my shoe to see the damage. Sure enough, it was purple and swollen. So they decided to take me to a hospital before going home.
The hospital fees ended up being much more expensive during extended hours, so after telling him that I was fine until morning, we left, and decided that I would call my school and tell them that I was going to come in late the next day so I could go to the hospital first thing. (I didn't have class anyway so all I would be skipping was fulfilling my contract for being at school for a certain amount of days per semester.) Coach told me to contact him in the morning so we could go to the hospital together.
The next morning, we met at 9:20a near his home. I of course thought we would be going straight to the hospital, because he told me that they opened at 9:30a. However, as we started walking together, he told me that before going to the hospital, he wanted to take me to the firestation to report my brave act. I was a little nervous, because I had already cried a few times that morning, and I knew that if I heard the story again (even if it was in Korean) I would start crying yet again, and I didn't want my Coach to think badly of me for not being able to contain my emotions. But of course, I consented.
We arrived at the fire station, and took a seat. Coach barely got out the words "yesterday, Igidae Park, middle school student", and tears started flowing. However, I tried my best to maintain some sort of composure, and made it through re-living the scene with a steady one-tear-per-cheek, with constant hand-grazing near the tear ducts. He told them the basics, and after he was finished, a few firemen escorted us to another room on the second floor. I regained my composure as we met some new Korean faces who had not yet seen my overt display of emotions, hoping to keep it that way. But yet agian, he told the story, in more detail, and with the back and forth glances from four firemen, a few tears forced themselves past my weak barrier of composure.
Luckily, two of the firemen were periodically interrupting Coach's flow with questions and comments. "Yea, we heard he was a 3rd grade middle student" (about 9th grade in the States). "We had heard that a foreigner jumped in after him, but the onlookers thought she was Russian." (All of this, of course, in Korean - and thus I can't say that my translations were perfect, but definitely the right gist.) They finished up talking, tried to talk to me a bit but with their English skills almost non-existent and my Korean skills, as much of my other mental capacities, paralyzed, I was not able to directly interact much with the firemen. However, before we left, they looked me right in the eye, and said what my eyes and heart know to be some version of, "We thank you so much for your bravery." After a few more words with Coach, they shook our hands, and we set off for the hospital.
Our destination was the same hospital that treated me for my burns. 'Great,' I thought. 'They're going to think I'm a psycho.' But, not as psycho as the doctor who treated me for my broken fingers would have assessed, because 3 broken digits in 7 months is pretty special, especially for a foreigner. However, fortunately, the x-rays were clean; only a contusion. (HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF). Strangely enough, I wasn't nearly as concerned about breaking my toe as I had been about breaking my fingers, even though it would have been more dehabilitating. True, breaking a toe as a result of stupidity would have made me very frustrated, but the fact that this injury was now directly related in my mind with the catastrophe of losing a life, it wouldn't have phased me as much. I realize I would have lost probably another few weeks from IM training, but in the grand scheme of things, I would still be able to race, even if I was in the worst shape of my life. Moreso, I don't think my subconscious would ever let me feel frustrated or upset about the fact that I was minorly injured trying to save someone's life. I believe that sort frustration just does not exist.
It seems that Coach appreciated my actions more than he could put into words, because he politely insisted on paying for both the doctor's fee as well as the medicine, which was a bit humbling, but of course appreciated. As he was driving me to the bus stop (for I had to go back to school to sit at my desk), he said, "On behalf of Korean people, I thank you."
Because this entry (Part II) was divided up into three sittings, I feel that I wasn't able to convey the atmoshpere of love that surrounded me within those eventful 21 hours to the best of my ability. And as I am tired, hungry, and anxious to get started on the things that I have been putting back in order to finish this entry, I'm not going to attempt a particularly noteworthy sum-up at this point (don't get me wrong - putting all of this into writing has really helped me deal with the situation, but it is exhausting all the same). But in my heart and in my soul, I will never forget the love that enveloped me, that introduced me to feelings and knowledge of new, and for that I will always be able to look upon this experience knowing that faith can be found in the most seeminlgy-abysmal places, and can be found to guide a heavy heart out of despair, and to realize the conquering power of the heart.
2 comments:
Catie, I admire your bravery and efforts to rescue that little boy. i am aslo very happy and relieved that you lived to tell the tale. i am also sorry for the loss of the boy. *HUGS* I am speechless on what else to say except that I am in back in Korea. Please feel free to give me a call. I would love to see you! (for other reasons besides this;))-Marissa Citro
hi!!!!!!! catie your storry is so cool~~~~~~~~~~```
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