Remember the Lanterns

Jason

After work on Monday I head to the downtown YMCA to check out the bulletin board there. I get Jason's number from the friends section. There's also a Language Instructors section, a Language students section, items for sale, events, other. Most of the people in the friends section are female: likely looking to meet a foreign (read white) guy for the prestige and to improve their English. No judgement from me on that front, Good luck to them. Many of them are possibly in the same boat as I am, broken-hearted and looking for ways to keep themselves busy enough to avoid the loneliness. While I was doing well so far in Daegu, with new friends Chris and MS, new and nice distractions Mr. Kim and silver suit guy, all within a week of arriving, I figured I met get lucky with Jason who had lived in the States, was 30, liked reading and looked cool in his mugshot. Nonetheless, right at this very second, I am reminded of YS. I don't even know why. There is nothing here, nor nearby that could remind me of him. Even in my new apartment, where there also is nothing in there to remind me of him, I made sure of that, my thoughts turn to him constantly. Just being in bed alone makes me think of him. He hasn't even been to my new place, and nonetheless, I keep thinking of how we used to spend our evenings and our nights. Kissing for ages before his hands would finally slide up my shirt and into my bra. Eventually he would pull off my shirt, and undo the bra (usually not very smoothly), sending my

breasts bouncing to freedom, his mouth on them immediately, kissing and licking and sucking them to oblivion. Here I was, getting Jason's name and email, in the hopes that maybe he too would love my breasts just as much. But really, I was just hoping that YS would see me out with Jason, get jealous, and insist taking me home to my new place.
I decide to send Jason an email that evening. It is casual and I say that if he has time this weekend, I would be free for a coffee or something, here's my number blah blah blah.. He calls me immediately, he's actually a student at BYO, the Saturday class, which is why we hadn't met before. He suggests drinks on Saturday night instead of coffee. I normally would have flagged this as strange, seems far too eager, but this was Korea and normal protocol did not apply. Our conversation is relaxed though, easy, he cracks a few jokes, I feel comfortable. the ghosts of YS haunting my life had momentarily disappeared. I found myself lying on my bed, my legs up against the wall, in the position I always seem to end up in when I'm having a fun conversation on the phone.
Actually Jason, drinks on Saturday seem just fine. What time and where?
Bar Au. 8pm?
A wave of nostalgia slaps me in the face.

Au? Near Gallery Zone right? Ok see you there. Bye. I barely manage to spit this out as tears run down my face and the ghosts all reappear. I'm an emotional wreck.
AU was one of our favourite places. Low lit, trendy zen- esque décor, acid jazz, trip hop or some sort of laid back electronica supplemented the delicious cocktails. Walking past it made me sad, walking past it threw vivid YS memories in my face – him kissing me, him groping me under the table, he and I having long serious drunken but we thought important conversations about the existence of universally acceptable English grammar, or the application of Freudian theories to modern day life and relationship – him staring at me from across the table, and then telling me that he loved me. they were endless, and while out here they were gone, in AU they could still be. And Jason wanted to take me right back into the sea of YS! Where I might drown from sadness and loneliness and cold instead of floating along, relaxing in its warm gentleness and comforting waves. Maybe Jason will come by with a boat, throw me a life saver, and I'll have a new way to travel.
He might be the one to get me to smile, make me make fun of myself, make me happy and make me want to get out of bed in the morning.
I keep telling myself this and the week passes smoothly. Everyone is in the swing of things at work, including me. I've even started daydreaming. I walk in the bar and Jason stands up, several inches taller than I am, a bigger build

than most and looks just like in his photo, gives me a hug and says that he's already ordered drinks. We down cocktail after cocktail, laughing about all things American, all things Korean and ourselves. It's 2am before we know it. This is my dream date and I play it over and over in my mind. It's a huge disappointment, I hate to say, when I walk into the bar, Jason is several inches shorter than me, balding and at least in his mid-thirties (he wore a baseball hat in the photo which was apparently either seriously airbrushed, or several years old), not that I don't like older men, but when they could pass for fifty it's a different ball game. Nevermind, I tell myself, you guys might get along. Jason and I chat about his time in the US, which he hated, and how it's been being back in Korea, where he doesn't seem to fit in either. He says things like "foreigners don't know how to work hard", referring I guess, to everyone in the states, "foreign food is disgusting" referring I assume to all food in the world, or "foreigners in Korea are mostly losers", I'm not sure who he's referring to now, or "I came back to Korea to find a wife" and know that he can't be referring to me. The best part was that the drinks were delicious, he ordered many of them and I barely thought of YS because I was trying to figure out how to respond to some of the things that Jason was saying. I couldn't, so I just listened.
I really like this song! I exclaimed at one point. Bad idea because it induced a tirade of why pop music is terrible, American pop was worse, but k-pop wasn't much better.

and was planning on having one last drink when I got a text from Chris who said "come to Mr. Kim's place to hang out!" and feigning fatigue, cut our date short. Dress hyang is, after all, right around the corner. I texted Jason(as I learned is polite to do in korea): goodnight, thank you for the evening, I am walking home now.
He replied: yes, I would love to walk you home now. I didn't reply.
Another text: Maybe you didn't understand me this evening.
The next evening, text from Jason: why no reply? I was waiting your reply all day.
My reply: Thank you for your text. I did not need anyone to walk me home last night. I am sleeping now, goodnight.
5:15am on Monday morning. I have a text – Jason: I emailed you. Immediate check and do not ignore me like before.
Wow. What have I done?
I am writing this mail for not waking you up...
because you said you were sleeping when you sent me a message.
first of all, I want you know that I am REALLY Definitely surely angry what you texted...
I didn't know what I was making you so uncomfortable..
Just out of the bar behind you, I went to the Banwoldang station.. you....went to the opposite direction of your home...

I was at the toilet when you sent me text message...
I thought you went home and you wanted me walk you home...
I duly read the text message while squating at the toilet...
so I texted you that I really love to come to your home...
but after sending that message...I could see what I had done..
so I texted you that I misread....
you know the thing that I am really angry now is....
if you were uncomfortable why you didn't say anything to me about that at that night or sunday??
if you did, I could explain all the things of the event....
your anxiety and prejudice must be gettting bigger and bigger....without limitation...
I didn't have any idea...until I had your message...
I am not the bad guy you think...
I am TOTALLY disappointed that you think I am the very bad guy...
I could be bad guy in some repects...but I am not the guy ruining pure good women....
I was happy to find a girl like you....complicated, smart....
but UNFORTUNATELY YOU are not my type...
I know I am not YOUR type...either....
from my poor command in English I can't express what I am thinking at the moment...
but I hope you know I am really angry....I can't sleep right now....
At the byo or any other places, you don't need to be worried about me... I will be away from you for not making you uncomfortable....
and I will not write you again...and do anything to make you ill....
you Should be SORRY...to me... speechless Jason..

speechless Jason? Speechless Hannah! I thought about how I could douse this fire. He was a student at BYO and this could have some ramifications if I wasn't careful. I was seriously worried. But not worried enough to not advertise my arrival.