I Kind of Wish I’d Been Eaten by Zombies

My alarm blared loudly through the studio Airbnb my sister and I had rented. I groaned in protest. Even though I hadn't moved any part of my body, I could still feel my toes screaming in pain.

This was not a good start to the day. Then again, neither was waking up at three in the morning.

I reached over, shut the alarm off, and slowly sat up. “Ashley,” I called as I rubbed sleepers from my eyes. “Time to get up. We have to get ready.”

My sister made a sound that had me questioning if I should be on my way to an exorcist instead of the train station. I shot her an amused look and tentatively placed my feet on the ground as I stood. Pain shot through my toes, and I muffled a cry.

Well. Wasn’t this day just going to be oodles of fun.

As I hobbled towards the bathroom, I couldn’t help but regret yesterday. A tour guide was supposed to take us to a festival at Han River. Unfortunately, rainy weather had cancelled the festival, so our guide had instead led us on a walking tour of the area for hours. My feet had paid the price.

The itinerary for today was to take the train to Busan, a seaside city at the southern tip of Korea. We’d booked a tour company to take us to some popular attractions in and round the city. I was excited to just sit back and let other people take the lead for the day. And more than a little excited to be taking the train—Train to Busan was both my favorite Korean film and my favorite zombie film, so I couldn’t help but fangirl a little bit. Okay, a lot.

Despite my tortured toes, today was going to be awesome.

___

Today had sucked. So much.

I resisted the urge to rub my eyes with the heels of my hands as I sat on the cold plastic seat, back in Busan station. Anxiety whirled round and round my chest and brain. I could feel my sister staring at me, expecting me to make a decision. But going on this tour had been my decision, and look how that’d turned out. Badly. Up until the very end.

The train ride from our Airbnb to Busan had been blissfully uneventful, but that peace, unfortunately, wasn’t to last. The first hint: just ten minutes into our visit, and we’d somehow gotten trapped in the train station.

The instructions from our guide said to meet the group outside of Exit 7, where we would then hop on the tour bus that would take us to each of the attractions we were scheduled to visit. The only problem was, Exit 7 didn’t exist. There was Exit 6. And Exit 8 not far from that. But Exit 7 was nowhere to be seen. My sister and I circled the station at least three times, to no avail.

Booking the tour bus was supposed to mean less walking.

I sighed, even though what I really wanted to do was cry. “Maybe we should just take any exit, just to get outside,” I suggested. “Even if we still can’t see a marker for Exit 7, maybe we’ll see a group of people loitering around, or maybe they’ll have a sign with the company logo.”

Luckily, my plan worked, and we boarded the tour bus just six minutes late. But I had a sinking feeling that our luck had officially ended.

Which it had. As evidenced by the fact that our tour guides had taken us to a freakin’ mall. We’d seriously traveled across the country to visit a mall? They have malls in Seoul. They have malls in America, too, for that matter.

I understood that our tour guides had no control over the weather, and thus no control over the fact that our first destination—the Danubi train at Taejongdae—had been cancelled because of a light misting rain. Our tour guides did have full control, however, on where we went instead. And they chose a FREAKIN’ MALL. Even if malls were a rarity, it’d still be a crappy backup plan. This mall was almost entirely clothing stores, and there was no way I’d fit in teeny tiny Korean sizes. If I managed to fit one thigh in a Korean size XL, it’d be a miracle.

Ashley and I had wandered around the mall for a while, but the only purchase I’d made was a cute stationary set. Perhaps I’d use the set to write a strongly worded letter to the tour guide company, asking them to find a fifth destination in Busan worth traveling for.

I ended up spending a decent chunk of time flipping through my phone in between bites of my lunch, looking at all the attractions in and round Busan that we could have been visiting instead.

Not gonna lie, though, the bulgogi burger I’d gotten from Lotteria was pretty good. Then again: when has bulgogi-anything ever disappointed?

But even after the mall, things hadn’t gone quite right. Sure, Haedong Yonggungsa Temple had been lovely. But it was also very small. And we’d spent way too much time there. Conversely, Songdo Beach had a lot to offer and enjoy, but we’d spent so little time there, we hadn’t even had time to ride the cable car, which had made Ashley angry. At me. Like I’d been the one to create the tour guide itinerary.

When we’d exited the bus at our last destination, I’d surveyed the view before me in disbelief. Or rather, I’d surveyed what little of the view was visible with disbelief. Most of it, unfortunately, was shrouded in thick fog.

Of course, Gamcheon Culture Village was still beautiful. There was a poetry here, in the fact that even this thick fog couldn’t completely destroy the color that battled back the gloom. It also seemed like the perfect setting for a horror or paranormal fantasy novel. I could easily imagine villains wandering the alleys, plotting to destroy this town just as thoroughly as the fog was.

But I had been in no mood to appreciate what the fog offered. After everything else that had happened, those muted colors before me had seemed mocking. I’d been looking forward to Gamcheon the most. And it should have lived up to expectations—how could a bunch of painted buildings throw a curveball, after all?

Fog, that’s how.

The tour was over now, but things still weren’t going right.

When I’d bought our train tickets to and from Busan, I’d had to estimate when the tour would be over, and then give us a bit of a buffer, just in case the tour took longer than anticipated. I didn’t even consider for a moment that the tour would end two hours earlier than estimated.

And that was the decision Ashley wanted me to make. What to do next. Neither of us wanted to hang out at Busan Station for another two hours, of course. But buying the tickets had been complicated in the first place, I wasn’t sure how much English the station employees knew, and it had never occurred to me during any of my Korean studies to learn the phrase for “Can I exchange my ticket for an earlier train?”

Hindsight really is 20/20.

And at that moment, I’d had it. Each step I’d taken all day had sent a stab of pain through most of my toes, I’d hardly gotten any sleep, none of the attractions we’d come here for had gone as planned, and now this. I could feel a panic attack coming on. I could barely think—damn, I could barely BREATHE. I really didn’t want to have to make this decision. It didn’t matter that I was 29; I wanted an actual grown-up to make this decision. And I wanted a do-over. I wanted this trip to go well. I wanted functioning feet. I wanted to wrap myself in the comforter waiting for me back at the Airbnb. I wanted so many things right now.

I sat, frozen in place, avoiding eye contact with my sister, just like I wanted to avoid this decision.

“Rehann?” Ashley prompted, a bit of an edge in her voice.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” I stuttered, “I just d-don’t know w-what to d-do right now.”

On top of the fear, I also felt like a failure. I was the older sister; I was supposed to be able to handle this.

After a pause, Ashley said, “Come on. I’ve got this. I’ll do all the talking.”

___

I sighed heavily as I settled back into the cushioned seat, and then carefully propped my used and abused feet on the footrest in front of me. Ashley had successfully exchanged our ticket for an earlier train—it had actually been a simple process—and we were finally on our way back to the cozy Airbnb we called home. Already I could feel my heart calming, the panic receding. Though just 15 minutes ago my entire body had been at DEFCON 1, I was already feeling embarrassed. I realized that I had made what was, yeah, a pretty crappy situation so much worse than it needed to be.

Way to stay cool, calm, and collected in the face of the unexpected.

As I closed my eyes and surrounded myself with the familiarity provided by the vocals of my favorite K-pop group, I couldn’t help but think: I kind of wish I’d been eaten by zombies. It sounded like a less stressful way to spend a day.

Return next week for the last installment in the Disaster series.