Some like the bustle of the “big city,” but there’s something to be said for pleasant and quiet. I live just a short bike ride from one of the biggest cities in the world (Seoul, with its nearly 10 million citizens), and within a province with a population of around 30 million if you count both Seoul and Inch’eon (designated as special cities that are within the province’s borders, but not part of the province itself).
I live about a mile and a half from the end of the runway of a major military base – different from a commercial airport in that compared to the sound of an F-16 on full afterburner or a U-2 takeoff, a commercial aircraft sounds like a sweet little whisper.
Korea used to be known as “the Land of the Morning Calm.” It still is I suppose, to some dreamers who don’t really know what a “morning calm” sounds like. I do. I lived here in this very area from 1983 to 1988. I used to work mid-shifts on a hill on Osan Air Base, and when we walked out of the building at six in the morning to a largely unobstructed view of the valleys around us, we could hear the silence.
And it was glorious and beautiful. A vast area stretched before us with the twinkle of an occasional set of headlights on the single main road in the distance. Maybe a few houses just waking up for the day. And you’d hear…nothing. The kind of stillness that would make you want to sit down and take it in if you weren’t in such a hurry to get home and out of uniform.
Not so any more. There always seems to be a hum in the air these days. Like something you can’t see, but feel all of the time anyway. Maybe like what I read recently about a dive site in the Bahamas where one used to be able to hear the sounds of “snapping shrimp and growling fish,” but where the sounds are now drowned out by the sounds of winds and currents created by increased hurricane activity elsewhere (a consequence of climate change). I suppose it’s something like that. The cascading effects of the bustling world encroaching on the silence bit-by-bit until now, you can barely hear the silence any more.
I’m a big fan of peacefulness. I’m also a big-time morning person. So yeah, “Land of the Morning Calm” is certainly something I can appreciate. Sadly, I was experiencing the dying days of such a place and didn’t know it (I set the 1988 Seoul Olympics as the solid demarcation line between “old” and “new” Korea). There were even the few occasions where I’d do my own part in breaking that peace myself in my youth (in a ritual called “hanging a mid,” and Ma Boogie was always happy to oblige our group).
But now I look back and wonder about the peace of the mornings and look for where I might find them again. Believe me, I’ve had every opportunity. If you follow my cycling exploits, you know of the BCFB rides I do at 4:30 AM on summer mornings. But if you know the geography of the area, you’d know the possibilities are dwindling. Like I mentioned earlier, I live in a province of several million, and near major transportation corridors. There’s always a train or a major highway buzzing with cars at all hours, and even the occasional early-morning takeoff from the base.
I’m sure there are rural spots tucked away yet, and perhaps someday I can go find one if only to wake up there and walk outside. I suppose these are the dreams of which cabins in the woods are made (see my previous on that). Maybe I’ll get there someday.
Until then – and the whole reason I thought of this today – I recommend Jabra Elite 45h over-ear headphones. I picked up a set on sale the other day and they are the perfect headphone for the office. They don’t noise cancel, but when your office is generally quiet, they do a great job playing sweet, quiet music as you plug along and do your job. They’re light and comfortable, and they last forever on a charge. Well, not really, but they claim 50 hours and that’s enough for me to have lost the charge cord because I forgot where I put it by the time I want to charge them again. I’ve had them for about two weeks and the battery is still reading 82%. This means I can charge them once and leave them in my backpack for a month, pulling them out when I want a little peace.
And that’s the goal these days…a little peace.
