Two Old Friends

Earlier today while waiting for the Orange #3 line subway to downtown Seoul, I observed something that has stayed with me all day.

A gentleman of at least sixty-five years of age was patiently, relaxing seated on a slatted wooden bench next to two women far enough away to probably not be traveling together. He had that soft comfortable face that demonstrates successful life; one that has obtained success economically, socially and lovingly. His eyes were focused in a non-focused manner. He looked like he could sit there all day in his off-white cotton pants and white shirt with thin stripes were those of a man who can buy anything but doesn’t need to impress anyone any more.

All of a sudden, his expression changed to elation with his brown eyes wide, cheeks full and warm smile exuding joy. He immediately stood up as he sees a friend walking towards him. They both looked so happy and surprised to see each other. I didn’t need to speak the language or understand HanGul to recognize that.

His friend was dressed similarly with thicker stripes on his shirt and slightly darker pants. They both looked like what happens when life works.

The thin striped man gestured for his friend to sit next to him on the bench. The energy and exchanges of words, smiles and warmth filled me up, as it did even more so to both of them beaming for all to see in Suseo station. They mad me want to be old, to have experienced enough peaks and valleys to know they are neither peaks nor valleys, and just keep on walking.

It provides such hope to me to witness men sharing these kinds of moments together. The moments were extended when it turned out they were both going to the same place, or just decided to after talking. I sat next to them to continue to soak up the appreciation of these two old friends that bumped into each other while waiting for the Orange #3 line going towards Dahwia. I didn’t go that far. I followed the advice of everyone I spoke to that said I should go to Itaewon, “Where all the foreigners are”. My gut told me that foreigners meant white tourists shopping and looking for American culture in the heart of Seoul, South Korea. My suspicion was correct, they were all buying Puma, Nike, Louis Vetonne and Levis all the way in Seoul, instead of their local mall. I wished I had listened to my gut and avoided Itaewon altogether and sat next to the two old men and landed wherever they landed.

The richness of their eye contact, soft cheeks, warm words, voice tomes and energy is still with me eight hours later on that same orange #3 line headed back to the suburbs of Bandung. These memories have made this ride almost as enjoyable as the one sitting next to the two old friends riding the orange #3 this afternoon.