Kunsan: Then
I remember the first time I came to Korea - it was August of 1995. I was stuck in Butt-Fuck-Goldsboro, North Carolina, at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base (huh huh - See More Johnsons huh huh huh huh) and was dying to get the fuck outta there. To anywhere! But really I wanted to go to Japan most of all. At the time I was enchanted with their culture - everything from anime and traditional artwork to the Code of the Samurai and sushi, I was a misplaced gaijin waiting for his chance to visit the Land of the Rising Sun. I even took it upon myself to learn what little Japanese I could, in hopes of preparation for the big event. The Promised Land.
It had been a year since Donna and I had broken up and it was still taking its toll on me. On top of that, I was stuck in a shitty working environment where racist blacks would say all sorts of shit about The Man and reinforce their disdain for me with a foul attitude. I was the only white guy in the office and my presence was not welcomed at all. On top of that, my view on Christianity had soured to the point where I was about the rip the throat off the next person who told me that "Jesus loves me". The time was definitely ripe for a change.
And change is what I got.
I recieved my notification of orders to Korea during the 4th of July weekend and was told to report no later than 20 August. Korea? What the fuck, over? Korea is NOTHING like Japan. Well I suppose that beggars can't be choosers and this is close enough. I had to pack my shit up, outprocess the base, drive cross-country in my Honda CRX and show up for duty all within a matter of 6 short weeks. Not a problem. Since I was living in the dorms then, my belongings were consolidated easily enough. I was only allowed 500 pounds to ship over, and everything else had to go into storage. I packed my clothes, my music collection and a few video games to go over on the trip. Everything happened so quickly yet I was ready to go. I made it happen.
I drove all the way from North Carolina to my parents' home in San Diego to park my car. It was a long trip but was really fun from what I remember and was the perfect way start over with a clean slate. A week or so at home visiting my folks and my sister, and then I went to Los Angeles to stay the night before leaving the next morning to fly out of LAX.
Japanese people for the most part are very cosmopolitan, from the way they dress to the way they act. It's no wonder America has such a fascination with Japan. Koreans on the other hand, are exact opposites of Japanese. I didn't realize this at first when I boarded the Korean Airlines flight. All I remember was that there were some girls that would talk in Korean one moment, English the next, and back to Korean again, and the little old ajuma that bumped me out of the way on the airplane aisle as I was putting my things away, just so she could get to her seat. Not even so much an "Excuse me" or anything. Compared to the elegance of the Japanese, the Koreans looked like refugees left over from World War II - tired and worn out.
The first thing I remember when the plane touched down on Kunsan was the barbed-wire and the Patriot missile batteries all pointing North. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?" was the first thing I remembered thinking as I saw an airbase that resembled something out of a Vietnam war movie. As soon as I got off the plane and made it on to base, I found out that things weren't so crazy as I first made them out to be.
After I got a room in the dorm, I met my supervisor, Marybeth. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and was a sex maniac. She was always fucking dudes she met but never once had a thing with me going. I suppose that I was either not her type or she didn't want to cross the supervisor/worker office relationship. Anycase, she would do crazy shit like read PlayGirl Magazine out in public, and brag to other co-workers about how she loved to suck cock. She even got into a fight with another woman at the NCO Club over a man they were both fucking. The first and last time I've ever seen anything like that happen.
Then there was Nia. Nia was a sweet girl but like Marybeth, was a nymphomaniac. She had big tits and would entertain both pilots and air traffic controllers with strip shows on a Friday/Saturday night, and was notorious for doing wet t-shirt parties as well. She told me how she would just go topless for the controller guys and for the flyboys she'd go full nude. She even ended up fucking some of them too, she confessed to me years afterwards. Nia was definitely free spirited.
Well, this was the common mentality here at the time. Work hard, play harder. Drink, fuck, and live life like there's no tomorrow. Holy hell! Even nearby A-Town was a direct reflection of this too. People would get liquored up down there and all sorts of crazy shit would happen - people were having sex in the bathroom stalls. On base in the hooches, there wasn't a pool table that at least wasn't covered with dried semen, vaginal juices, beer, whisky, blood and urine. Pretty much anything that you could imagine could happen, did happen.
Well as much fun and extreme that this place was at the time, I would like to believe it was required to off-set the other extremes this place will put you through. Because Korea is technically a year remote assignment, the majority of people come here without their family. No wives, no children, no husbands. For some people this is paradise since you don't have to listen to your fat bitch wife complain about how unattractive she feels and you don't have to listen to your goddamned brats whine for a fucking Power Ranger doll, but for others a year separated from your family is a huge undertaking and they need all the extra outlets that can be afforded.
On top of that, the facilities here are very spartan at best. I've seen better selection at a 7-11 in Misawa Japan than what the Commissary and Base Exchange used to carry. Water lines rupture during winter months, and AC units break down during the summer months. Humidity and mosquitos here are the worst I've experienced anywhere. Water pools in large portions of the base since sewage is a continual problem as well. If the water main gets a leak, then you have to flush solid waste only until they get the problem repaired. Not only that, but the Koreans still have open sewage lines called binjo ditches which get mighty ripe on a hot summer day. I swear I almost passed out once when traveling by one. From 12 hour work days and continually lacking the equipment and parts you need to continually practicing like North Korea is going to attack, this place will test the limits of any normal person.
But despite all these hardships, there was a true feeling of comraderie. The old saying "Misery loves company" was so applicable. People would bond here in the shortest amount of time and next thing you know you're telling your drinking buddy all sorts of shit you wouldn't even tell your own mother. Kunsan Air Base was the ideal in college campus life, minus the drugs. The hooches on base would give out alcohol on a donation-only basis. You could pay $1 and drink the entire evening, or throw down $20 and let other people enjoy your good tidings. No profit was being made since whatever money was recieved was going back to buying more alcohol! It was such a kick-ass idea that the Base Commander himself would come over and party with us on weekends he didn't have a schedule to worry with. There were many times where someone would have to carry the guy out and put him to bed, he was that much of a party animal. It was definitely a fucking party that had no end.
Despite having no car to drive I managed to get around Korea pretty good. They have a good bus system that can take you virtually anywhere around the Republic you wish to go visit. Once I learned how things operated, I would frequent trips to Kunsan City as well as up to Osan and Youngsan for the weekend. I knew how long and how much everything would cost and would live out of my backpack once Friday afternoon hit. Osan was an awesome place to party too.
The icing on the cake came when I finally had the chance to move off-base and live in A-Town. The nearby apartment complex, Rainbow Village was closer to the base, but hella nastier too. Besides I wanted a place I could go crash at when I would go drinking and didn't want to worry about missing the last bus to base. Friends and co-workers would come crash as well and they were alway welcomed too. Koreans heat their floors and they could sleep without freezing too much.
While I was starting to enjoy myself and really get into the swing of things, the good times came to an end in 1997 when I got orders to Osan. Out of the blue, I was handed them, even though it wasn't on my Dream Sheet. "What the fuck is this? I was trying to get to Guam." I said to the people at Outbound Assignments. "Well because the fact you put 'Anywhere Pacific Rim', this popped up and you have to take the orders" they concluded.
Fuck.
All my friends, all the good times I was having, they were all down here, not at Osan. Sure I enjoyed going up there for the weekends, but just to party only. People go to Las Vegas to visit, NOT to live. So begrudgingly I accepted my orders. After all, I technically agreed to go.
I ended up saying alot of "good-byes" and alot of "thank yous" for the time I had here and thought to myself what a kick ass place this was overall and how I would gladly return here if given the opportunity.
Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.
It had been a year since Donna and I had broken up and it was still taking its toll on me. On top of that, I was stuck in a shitty working environment where racist blacks would say all sorts of shit about The Man and reinforce their disdain for me with a foul attitude. I was the only white guy in the office and my presence was not welcomed at all. On top of that, my view on Christianity had soured to the point where I was about the rip the throat off the next person who told me that "Jesus loves me". The time was definitely ripe for a change.
And change is what I got.
I recieved my notification of orders to Korea during the 4th of July weekend and was told to report no later than 20 August. Korea? What the fuck, over? Korea is NOTHING like Japan. Well I suppose that beggars can't be choosers and this is close enough. I had to pack my shit up, outprocess the base, drive cross-country in my Honda CRX and show up for duty all within a matter of 6 short weeks. Not a problem. Since I was living in the dorms then, my belongings were consolidated easily enough. I was only allowed 500 pounds to ship over, and everything else had to go into storage. I packed my clothes, my music collection and a few video games to go over on the trip. Everything happened so quickly yet I was ready to go. I made it happen.
I drove all the way from North Carolina to my parents' home in San Diego to park my car. It was a long trip but was really fun from what I remember and was the perfect way start over with a clean slate. A week or so at home visiting my folks and my sister, and then I went to Los Angeles to stay the night before leaving the next morning to fly out of LAX.
Japanese people for the most part are very cosmopolitan, from the way they dress to the way they act. It's no wonder America has such a fascination with Japan. Koreans on the other hand, are exact opposites of Japanese. I didn't realize this at first when I boarded the Korean Airlines flight. All I remember was that there were some girls that would talk in Korean one moment, English the next, and back to Korean again, and the little old ajuma that bumped me out of the way on the airplane aisle as I was putting my things away, just so she could get to her seat. Not even so much an "Excuse me" or anything. Compared to the elegance of the Japanese, the Koreans looked like refugees left over from World War II - tired and worn out.
The first thing I remember when the plane touched down on Kunsan was the barbed-wire and the Patriot missile batteries all pointing North. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?" was the first thing I remembered thinking as I saw an airbase that resembled something out of a Vietnam war movie. As soon as I got off the plane and made it on to base, I found out that things weren't so crazy as I first made them out to be.
After I got a room in the dorm, I met my supervisor, Marybeth. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and was a sex maniac. She was always fucking dudes she met but never once had a thing with me going. I suppose that I was either not her type or she didn't want to cross the supervisor/worker office relationship. Anycase, she would do crazy shit like read PlayGirl Magazine out in public, and brag to other co-workers about how she loved to suck cock. She even got into a fight with another woman at the NCO Club over a man they were both fucking. The first and last time I've ever seen anything like that happen.
Then there was Nia. Nia was a sweet girl but like Marybeth, was a nymphomaniac. She had big tits and would entertain both pilots and air traffic controllers with strip shows on a Friday/Saturday night, and was notorious for doing wet t-shirt parties as well. She told me how she would just go topless for the controller guys and for the flyboys she'd go full nude. She even ended up fucking some of them too, she confessed to me years afterwards. Nia was definitely free spirited.
Well, this was the common mentality here at the time. Work hard, play harder. Drink, fuck, and live life like there's no tomorrow. Holy hell! Even nearby A-Town was a direct reflection of this too. People would get liquored up down there and all sorts of crazy shit would happen - people were having sex in the bathroom stalls. On base in the hooches, there wasn't a pool table that at least wasn't covered with dried semen, vaginal juices, beer, whisky, blood and urine. Pretty much anything that you could imagine could happen, did happen.
Well as much fun and extreme that this place was at the time, I would like to believe it was required to off-set the other extremes this place will put you through. Because Korea is technically a year remote assignment, the majority of people come here without their family. No wives, no children, no husbands. For some people this is paradise since you don't have to listen to your fat bitch wife complain about how unattractive she feels and you don't have to listen to your goddamned brats whine for a fucking Power Ranger doll, but for others a year separated from your family is a huge undertaking and they need all the extra outlets that can be afforded.
On top of that, the facilities here are very spartan at best. I've seen better selection at a 7-11 in Misawa Japan than what the Commissary and Base Exchange used to carry. Water lines rupture during winter months, and AC units break down during the summer months. Humidity and mosquitos here are the worst I've experienced anywhere. Water pools in large portions of the base since sewage is a continual problem as well. If the water main gets a leak, then you have to flush solid waste only until they get the problem repaired. Not only that, but the Koreans still have open sewage lines called binjo ditches which get mighty ripe on a hot summer day. I swear I almost passed out once when traveling by one. From 12 hour work days and continually lacking the equipment and parts you need to continually practicing like North Korea is going to attack, this place will test the limits of any normal person.
But despite all these hardships, there was a true feeling of comraderie. The old saying "Misery loves company" was so applicable. People would bond here in the shortest amount of time and next thing you know you're telling your drinking buddy all sorts of shit you wouldn't even tell your own mother. Kunsan Air Base was the ideal in college campus life, minus the drugs. The hooches on base would give out alcohol on a donation-only basis. You could pay $1 and drink the entire evening, or throw down $20 and let other people enjoy your good tidings. No profit was being made since whatever money was recieved was going back to buying more alcohol! It was such a kick-ass idea that the Base Commander himself would come over and party with us on weekends he didn't have a schedule to worry with. There were many times where someone would have to carry the guy out and put him to bed, he was that much of a party animal. It was definitely a fucking party that had no end.
Despite having no car to drive I managed to get around Korea pretty good. They have a good bus system that can take you virtually anywhere around the Republic you wish to go visit. Once I learned how things operated, I would frequent trips to Kunsan City as well as up to Osan and Youngsan for the weekend. I knew how long and how much everything would cost and would live out of my backpack once Friday afternoon hit. Osan was an awesome place to party too.
The icing on the cake came when I finally had the chance to move off-base and live in A-Town. The nearby apartment complex, Rainbow Village was closer to the base, but hella nastier too. Besides I wanted a place I could go crash at when I would go drinking and didn't want to worry about missing the last bus to base. Friends and co-workers would come crash as well and they were alway welcomed too. Koreans heat their floors and they could sleep without freezing too much.
While I was starting to enjoy myself and really get into the swing of things, the good times came to an end in 1997 when I got orders to Osan. Out of the blue, I was handed them, even though it wasn't on my Dream Sheet. "What the fuck is this? I was trying to get to Guam." I said to the people at Outbound Assignments. "Well because the fact you put 'Anywhere Pacific Rim', this popped up and you have to take the orders" they concluded.
Fuck.
All my friends, all the good times I was having, they were all down here, not at Osan. Sure I enjoyed going up there for the weekends, but just to party only. People go to Las Vegas to visit, NOT to live. So begrudgingly I accepted my orders. After all, I technically agreed to go.
I ended up saying alot of "good-byes" and alot of "thank yous" for the time I had here and thought to myself what a kick ass place this was overall and how I would gladly return here if given the opportunity.
Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.
posted by Machine at 11:42 AM
2 Comments:
too true....but I still love the place, if even only for the memories of the way things WERE
It's never the same when you return, that's for certain. No matter where you go!
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