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I’ve wrestled with angels, all my life
A post-Valentine’s Day story by N_Architect.
“It is freezing in Busan and I am having hot barley tea all day.”
She was preparing for her exam which was to take place in June.
“I want to go back to university for further study.
How is your daughter?” she wrote to him in her latest email.
Fourty months back, on a cool weekday night of a mild South Korean autumn, Sean was lying tired in his bed at the Westin Chosun Busan. Dinner at Kuromatsu, the hotel’s Japanese restaurant, had just been concluded. Sean and his team had spent the last two days with the top management of Hanjin Heavy Industries over meetings for the new series of eight container ships which Sean’s company intended to build there. Almost all final details of the six hundred fifty million U.S. dollar contract had just been settled with the shipyard and construction of the series was about to commence soon.
Full lobster teppanyaki dinner and wine was great; the chef was a young but very talented South Korean who he had been trained for two years at a famous Japanese restaurant in Chicago, Il. Sean’s team was invited post-dinner for the traditional Karaoke night out with the management of the shipyard but he was exhausted from the quick trip over to South Korea, so he politely refused. The opposite of course happened with Sean’s associates, however, as they were keen to discover what was waiting for them during and after the Karaoke night… Though an old fox in long-haul flying, Sean omitted dressing in layers this time upon his departure from the U.K. and, as a consequence, on top of the eastward flying jetlag he also got a pretty annoying cold after landing onboard Lufthansa’s A340-300 ‘Passau’ in Gimhae International Airport.
Though in his mid-forties, of average height at best and with short grey hair, Sean had only been previously to Busan as a ship’s senior officer. His late maritime career was sailing as Captain on large container ships. This time, though, he was to come on a different mission: representing his company, Transocean, for this new big project in Hanjin, South Korea’s oldest shipyard. As most of the eight large ships in the series were to be built in parallel, his project supervision team would comprise of many experienced engineers. Most of them had been working with Transocean in similar projects in Japan and South Korea since the mid-seventies. Some of them were even in their late fifties or early to mid sixties.
But make no mistake, no matter how calm and frugal-speaking Sean appeared, he was literally a raging bull during an average working day. He was particularly famous for swearing more often than anyone else and insulting beyond imagination senior managers of any Asian shipyard during meetings in the projects he had recently undertaken. Some colleagues called him an ‘animal’ because of this behavior, but this is why he was getting paid a hefty amount in these big projects – to protect the shipowners’ interests and put as much pressure as possible to the shipyard.
On the brink of this cold developing into flu and getting him down to bed for a few days, Sean decided that a nice hot bath and massage, assorted by drinking fine hot South Korean green tea, would be the best course of action that night. At least this was guaranteed to make him sleep like a baby for some hours before checking out from the Westin Chosun in the morning and taking the taxi back to Ginmhae. He had just checked himself in 1K for tomorrow’s morning flight back to Munich, a flight that was to be followed by a connection to Manchester.
A friend back home had told Sean about this Thai massage place, just across the Novotel Ambassador Busan. The massage place was open all day, every day. Though the place was not very far away, almost mid-way of Haeundae beach (the Westin is at the one end of that same long beach), he had to take a taxi from the Chosun. His condition did not leave much room for walking tonight.
Sean walked past the light lit entry of the massage place as the automatic glass doors opened. He quickly decided on the full body ‘V.I.P.’ massage upon checking at the reception, and was escorted to the changing rooms. A lady was then waiting for him in the nearby special room, where they first give you their trademark relaxing foot massage.
“Hello” she said courteously with her soft and obeying voice, bowing slightly forward.
“Anneyong ha seyo”, he replied.
“Oh – you speak Hangul?”
“Well, that’s all I know at the moment…” Sean said.
Soon-Bok had been working there for more than a couple of years. She was not happy, though. Pay was low and the job was quite tiring, although by choosing to work at night she could some days offset the negatives of these two arguments. Working night time paid slightly more and on weekdays not many clients would usually come after after midnight. She would normally go to work at eight in the evening, work till six in the morning and arrive back home an hour later. A six or seven at best hour nap would follow, then to wake up and take care of her small apartment, get something to eat, study English or Thai and then dress up in order to go back to work again.
“Another tired traveler, I assume; let your pains be relieved with this relaxing massage.” was heard from the inclined seat that was next to Sean’s.
He turned his head round, and saw a Scandinavian in his early forties with a blond chin beard, looking at him.
“Hello”, Sean replied.
“Trond Arne Norvik, Jotun Paints Korea, nice to meet you.”
“Sean Brogan, Transocean, it is a pleasure.”
“What brings you here in Busan?” asked Trond.
“Well, we came to finalize negotiations for this new contract with Hanjin, but I need to fly back to the U.K. tomorrow and to be honest I feel like a wreck at the moment…” Sean replied. “Shall I assume you live and work here?”
“Yes. Came in Busan four years ago, a lot has changed since then...”
At that moment Sook-Bok intervened gently and asked Sean to stand and follow her to the other room, for the body massage. His feet had been in the traditional wooden bucket for quite some time already and had softened enough, so he was practically ready for the treatment that would follow.
“Sook-Bok-si! Take good care of my colleague, ok?” said Trond.
“Nee” replied Sook-Bok, giving out a nice though shy smile.
“Sook-Bok is a very nice girl, Sean”, Trond continued. “And single!”
Her smile grew bigger and her face turned even shyer while leaving the room.
A post-Valentine’s Day story by N_Architect.
“It is freezing in Busan and I am having hot barley tea all day.”
She was preparing for her exam which was to take place in June.
“I want to go back to university for further study.
How is your daughter?” she wrote to him in her latest email.
Fourty months back, on a cool weekday night of a mild South Korean autumn, Sean was lying tired in his bed at the Westin Chosun Busan. Dinner at Kuromatsu, the hotel’s Japanese restaurant, had just been concluded. Sean and his team had spent the last two days with the top management of Hanjin Heavy Industries over meetings for the new series of eight container ships which Sean’s company intended to build there. Almost all final details of the six hundred fifty million U.S. dollar contract had just been settled with the shipyard and construction of the series was about to commence soon.
Full lobster teppanyaki dinner and wine was great; the chef was a young but very talented South Korean who he had been trained for two years at a famous Japanese restaurant in Chicago, Il. Sean’s team was invited post-dinner for the traditional Karaoke night out with the management of the shipyard but he was exhausted from the quick trip over to South Korea, so he politely refused. The opposite of course happened with Sean’s associates, however, as they were keen to discover what was waiting for them during and after the Karaoke night… Though an old fox in long-haul flying, Sean omitted dressing in layers this time upon his departure from the U.K. and, as a consequence, on top of the eastward flying jetlag he also got a pretty annoying cold after landing onboard Lufthansa’s A340-300 ‘Passau’ in Gimhae International Airport.
Though in his mid-forties, of average height at best and with short grey hair, Sean had only been previously to Busan as a ship’s senior officer. His late maritime career was sailing as Captain on large container ships. This time, though, he was to come on a different mission: representing his company, Transocean, for this new big project in Hanjin, South Korea’s oldest shipyard. As most of the eight large ships in the series were to be built in parallel, his project supervision team would comprise of many experienced engineers. Most of them had been working with Transocean in similar projects in Japan and South Korea since the mid-seventies. Some of them were even in their late fifties or early to mid sixties.
But make no mistake, no matter how calm and frugal-speaking Sean appeared, he was literally a raging bull during an average working day. He was particularly famous for swearing more often than anyone else and insulting beyond imagination senior managers of any Asian shipyard during meetings in the projects he had recently undertaken. Some colleagues called him an ‘animal’ because of this behavior, but this is why he was getting paid a hefty amount in these big projects – to protect the shipowners’ interests and put as much pressure as possible to the shipyard.
On the brink of this cold developing into flu and getting him down to bed for a few days, Sean decided that a nice hot bath and massage, assorted by drinking fine hot South Korean green tea, would be the best course of action that night. At least this was guaranteed to make him sleep like a baby for some hours before checking out from the Westin Chosun in the morning and taking the taxi back to Ginmhae. He had just checked himself in 1K for tomorrow’s morning flight back to Munich, a flight that was to be followed by a connection to Manchester.
A friend back home had told Sean about this Thai massage place, just across the Novotel Ambassador Busan. The massage place was open all day, every day. Though the place was not very far away, almost mid-way of Haeundae beach (the Westin is at the one end of that same long beach), he had to take a taxi from the Chosun. His condition did not leave much room for walking tonight.
Sean walked past the light lit entry of the massage place as the automatic glass doors opened. He quickly decided on the full body ‘V.I.P.’ massage upon checking at the reception, and was escorted to the changing rooms. A lady was then waiting for him in the nearby special room, where they first give you their trademark relaxing foot massage.
“Hello” she said courteously with her soft and obeying voice, bowing slightly forward.
“Anneyong ha seyo”, he replied.
“Oh – you speak Hangul?”
“Well, that’s all I know at the moment…” Sean said.
Soon-Bok had been working there for more than a couple of years. She was not happy, though. Pay was low and the job was quite tiring, although by choosing to work at night she could some days offset the negatives of these two arguments. Working night time paid slightly more and on weekdays not many clients would usually come after after midnight. She would normally go to work at eight in the evening, work till six in the morning and arrive back home an hour later. A six or seven at best hour nap would follow, then to wake up and take care of her small apartment, get something to eat, study English or Thai and then dress up in order to go back to work again.
“Another tired traveler, I assume; let your pains be relieved with this relaxing massage.” was heard from the inclined seat that was next to Sean’s.
He turned his head round, and saw a Scandinavian in his early forties with a blond chin beard, looking at him.
“Hello”, Sean replied.
“Trond Arne Norvik, Jotun Paints Korea, nice to meet you.”
“Sean Brogan, Transocean, it is a pleasure.”
“What brings you here in Busan?” asked Trond.
“Well, we came to finalize negotiations for this new contract with Hanjin, but I need to fly back to the U.K. tomorrow and to be honest I feel like a wreck at the moment…” Sean replied. “Shall I assume you live and work here?”
“Yes. Came in Busan four years ago, a lot has changed since then...”
At that moment Sook-Bok intervened gently and asked Sean to stand and follow her to the other room, for the body massage. His feet had been in the traditional wooden bucket for quite some time already and had softened enough, so he was practically ready for the treatment that would follow.
“Sook-Bok-si! Take good care of my colleague, ok?” said Trond.
“Nee” replied Sook-Bok, giving out a nice though shy smile.
“Sook-Bok is a very nice girl, Sean”, Trond continued. “And single!”
Her smile grew bigger and her face turned even shyer while leaving the room.
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