It’s summer, and I’m flying out of Chicago to visit South Korea for the first time. Chicago is the same as it always is. People rushing about, bumping into one another, everyone too hurried to stop and think about those around them. The experience is horrid, the flight via American Airlines not particularly fun. The attendants are rude and have no time to get me the requested drink, my query as to its location an hour later answered solely with a huff and impatient “just wait a minute.” Arriving at LAX is no more enjoyable; no one will stop so I can ask for directions, the check-in attendants ignore all my questions. Getting slammed into and having people walk all over my stuff as I tried picking it up doesn’t help any.
But everything changes once I move in Korean Air’s territory.
The flight attendants visit at least once an hour, asking if I am “quite sure there is nothing they could do?” Watching me practice Korean, several stop by to congratulate me on my efforts and help with some difficult words. One attendant kindly paces up and down the aisles rocking a fussy baby for two hours+ so the parents can take care of its twin. They are polite, gracious, attentive; I am thoroughly impressed. We arrive, and I prepare for another battle through the airport. But this time it’s different. Juggling the new currency into my wallet, I again drop my stuff. This time, three people stop and help pick it up, handing me back all the money I dropped as well as my luggage. The visitor’s center happily looks up the number for the hotel, calls, and finds out the right bus number; shows me where to stand; and tells the city bus driver where I’m going. He in turn carefully watches for my stop, letting me know when to get off. Pointing out the general direction of the hotel, he wishes me luck and I’m on my way. Wow, not what I was expecting. American bus drivers usually don’t talk to me except to yell. Okay, things are off to a good start.
Nonetheless, I soon find myself thoroughly lost. The school gave me a map to the hotel and an address, but I don’t understand or recognize either one. No taxis are in sight. So here I am in the hot sun; walking up-hill dragging two huge suitcases, a carry-on bag, and my sweater; trying to read a Korean-language map that makes no sense and avoiding people on the sidewalk at the same time.
Panic sets in; I start crying.
Suddenly, two store owners come out and grab the map. They don’t understand it either, but in broken English tell me it should be on the other side of the street. I keep walking in circles. I start dropping my bags and four elderly men hurry over to help me grab them up again. They can’t speak a word of English, but they too snag the map. Standing around for the next 8 minutes , they point at it arguing and turning it every direction. Finally one turns, bows, and points backward where I came from. They send me on my way waving, smiling, and shaking hands. They helped me without ever saying a word.
10 minutes later I find myself having to choose between going either left or right and having no idea what to do. Out of nowhere, a 30-something year old man dressed in a nice business suit grabs one of my suitcases and starts walking off.
I yelp.
He stops, smiles, and says “you’re going to xxxx hotel right?” I nod, and he informs me that he is headed that way, it’s really no problem, he’ll just show me the way and help me check-in. Surprisingly, after having so many other people try to help me already, I’m not scared anymore. If someone had done this in Chicago, I would have not stopped screaming about being robbed. But somehow, I feel safe here, so I follow. He speaks excellent English, asks me what I’m doing there, is this my first visit, do I like it so far? He informs me that the hotel is about 9 blocks from the bus stop, and that it takes a lot of turning corners and going up back alleys. He laughs that the map is worthless and tells me he’ll show me where to find a better one. We walk for about 15 minutes up winding streets, laughing and talking about my trip, him dragging my 50lb, unwieldy suitcase along with his own briefcase/laptop bag. Suddenly I see the hotel’s name. He walks me into the hotel, takes me to the front desk, and explains in Korean what happened. He tells me everything is okay; they’re bringing up an English-speaker. Still smiling, he shakes my hand, says he hopes I love my visit and that I should let him know if I need more help. Then my rescuing knight walks off without another word.
In my heart, I finally know that this is going to be one amazing experience.
Deceptively Blonde 
This inspires me to talk of two things..the two extremes of hospitality…and as i go through it i find myself planning for Korea. Its not only the luxurious hotels and eye cathing loctions but also the hospitality you find over their. I find India a mix of those two.
Yes, Korea is probably one of the most hospitable places I have ever visited. Japan was far less so, although they were certainly polite there. But Korea is truly welcoming. You walk into a little cold-noodle shop and five people will stop by and ask you where you’re from and what you’ve done so far. Everyone went so far out of their way to make me feel welcome that I was truly amazed. Great place to visit, definitely my favorite!