On a night train, your experience can vary greatly depending on the people sleeping above or below you. I have come across what is known as the silent types, as well as those that can’t stop talking if their life depended on it. While its great to meet & learn about new people, most of the time it’s only surface deep. Never would I imagine learning about a wonderful culture that prides itself on its unity as a country, as well as support for one another.
I was ecstatic as I entered Treno 313, cabin 51 and saw that each bed was vacant. This happiness diminished as three Korean men slowly filed into our cabin. I of course put them into the silent sleeping type because that had been my previous experience with Koreans; boy was I wrong. I had been watching one of them; Hong, with a confused look on his face as he went back & forth from reading his ticket & the corresponding numbers near our door. The three men hesitantly entered & politely introduced themselves with a smile along with a handshake. Jacob was the leader, Michael was the follower, and Hong was the one that chose not to have an English name. These twenty three year olds were from South Korea & were delighted to show us their “Chum Chi”, our form of tuna, as well as their plastic bottles of alcohol, which were comparable to Vodka in taste. As we began exchanging slang words, & they demanded to know about the wild American parties they hear about, I began to hear a crying & screaming woman approaching. All three men immediately stopped laughing and began listening to a fellow Korean as she was physically dragged past us while projecting “No, no, please stop” in her blood curdling scream. A few words were exchanged between the three in Korean before Jacob was gone in a flash without any sort of explanation.
Fifteen minutes later, Jacob looked visibly distraught as I asked him what was wrong and he began telling what I would describe as a nightmare. A Korean couple had been traveling in Barcelona the previous weekend and had gotten everything stolen, including their passports & train tickets. The conductor was threatening to throw the pair off the train unless they paid copious amounts of money. He described his efforts in trying to help them but the conductor just kept telling him to “shut up” while getting even more aggravated. Before I knew it, the conductor was at our cabin, accompanied by the husband of the woman who was hysterical. He looked the man dead in the eye as he asked “do you know these three boys?” and the man respectfully replied with “no sir” as he gazed at the ground. Not until later did I understand what had just happened. This stranger denied any affiliation with them in order to prevent them from getting into trouble, but this didn’t stop Jacob’s involvement. He left the cabin once more before returning with a grin on his face as he proclaimed,” they’re allowed to stay on the train, and only must pay 50 euro.” As I looked at him in disbelief because of what he had clearly just done, he began to describe the importance of his culture. He then proceeded to tell me how no matter where they are, Koreans always stick together and have each other’s backs. He then looked at me and asked, “What is western culture like?” Once I realized what he meant by that question, I didn’t really have an answer for him. As much as I would have liked to say we do such things for one another without thinking twice, I didn’t want to lie to him. My friends and I joked & said it was unlikely that anyone would intervene and that most would just sit back and watch. While we played this off as a joke, I thought to myself, would anyone help me in this situation, or on the other hand, would I help them? This is situational for western culture, while for Koreans, this IS their culture.
