Waiting for the Korean government
The long trip overseas begins with a bunch of little steps.
The first of these steps was to cram my car full of what's left of my life in Canada. It doesn't seem like much, and it isn't, but you try shoving box after box of documents, books and keepsakes into the back of a ramshackle Ford Escort. It's not as easy as it sounds.
Once you unload the vehicle, you shake your head at how little space it takes up in a closet. But in a closet you have the luxury of verticality; you can just keep stacking your stuff higher and higher. A car is a much thornier problem, with limited space in three planes. It's the kind of arranging that requires an engineer's eye, and not a reporter's somewhat scattered thought processes.
Luckily, I had an engineer with me. My dad, who recently retired, volunteered to help me move my car and assorted junk out to Victoria, and his skill at figuring out the most efficient use of a very small space was invaluable.
So was his skill behind the wheel. Granted, I've only been driving for a year and a half, and my father has been driving for fifty years. He even drove to his driving test, one of the benefits of growing up in small town Saskatchewan.
At any rate, this meant I could kick back and watch the expert navigate the hairpin turns and the treacherous traffic of Vancouver.
But surprisingly, the most dangerous part of the trip was the very start. The road from Osoyoos to Keremeos, which normally is an uneventful saunter through forty minutes of easy highway driving, was a slippery, skid filled mess. And that's just for a car carrying the normal compliment of passengers and baggage; my car was loaded stem to stern with junk, suitcases, and two generations of Frey males. We even ran into an accident on the way to Keremeos, and though I was just starting my post-reporter career, I felt obligated to call it into the paper before heading on my merry way to the Lower Mainland.
Past Keremeos, the road was as smooth as a summer drive, minus the fact our visibility was limited to the side mirrors.
So what now? Well, I'm currently cooling my heels in Vancouver. My fate is in the hands of the Korean government, and like all governments they make their decisions and stamp the proper forms only when they're good and ready.
Generally speaking it's only supposed to take a couple of weeks, but only time will tell. So until then I'm living on a friend's couch, trying not to spend any money, and starting to miss the colder but decidedly less soggy climate in Osoyoos.
