In January 2020, I started my very first business, but immediately, all of Europe went into lockdown due to COVID-19.
A lockdown was also a first in my life.
I am recording the gift that the combination of these two strange experiences in a foreign country gave me.
I was about to start the lunch service when the police walked in.
Once the police, who had been talking to Laura for a while, left, Laura’s face filled with worry, and a customer who was eating at the bar hurriedly packed up and left. Laura came over to explain the whole story to me as I stood there with a bewildered expression, but even after hearing the full explanation, I, who was ‘half-deaf’ (linguistically), still couldn’t understand what was going on.
I tried to collect my thoughts and grasp the situation by connecting Laura’s expression, the police, and the customer’s hurried departure.
LOCKDOWN.
Lock everyone in and pull down the shutters!!
As COVID-19 spread uncontrollably, most European countries tried to stop the transmission through lockdowns.
Shutters were closed on all facilities. No one could leave their house except for recognized special circumstances.
Daily life, which had been taken for granted, came to a halt. Fathers didn’t go to work, children didn’t go to school, and mothers prepared three meals a day at home.
‘And… Ah!!! I’m open for business but practically closed!!!’
My balloon of enthusiasm, which had been so full for once, suddenly hissed and popped, turning into a deflated, crumpled balloon rolling around the corner of the room when the phone rang.
‘I’d like to order a lunchbox.’
‘Um, excuse me… you know everything is closed right now due to the lockdown, right?’
‘Yes, but since it’s delivery food, aren’t you still operating?’
‘What??? I’m allowed to do business? Oh! Thank you so much! Thank you!!!’
I rushed to the shop, carefully packed the lunchbox for this one person, and called them to say it was ready for pickup, only to hear another unexpected response.
‘Huh? Weren’t you going to bring it to my house? Only food delivery is allowed to travel; we can’t leave our homes!!!’
‘Oops!! So that long ramble earlier was the address?… Delivery? Heck, I’ll just do it!!!’
I put the carefully packed lunchbox in a paper bag and hung it dangling from the bicycle handlebars.
Then, picturing the location I marked on Google Maps in my head, I started pedaling the bike.
The last time I rode a bike in Korea was at Yeouido Plaza.
When I worked at Samil (PwC), I spent a lot of time in Yeouido auditing the financial companies clustered there.
One day, while coming back from lunch, I saw people riding bicycles in the plaza wearing light, fluttery spring clothes.
My colleagues and I, staring blankly at them, were all emitting the energy of Grim Reapers in pitch-black suits with dark circles down to our eyes; without a word, as if possessed, we made our way toward the plaza’s bike rental station.
‘Right, we have thirty minutes of lunch break left, don’t we?’
‘Please let us rent them for just thirty minutes!!!’
In the confusion, a bicycle was assigned to me as well.
I was the type of rider who could move once I was on the bike, but had to struggle quite a bit just to get mounted. While all my colleagues were joyfully blowing away their Grim Reaper vibes while riding, I was struggling alone, trying to put my high heels on the pedals and wrestling with the handlebars, until the kind-hearted Ms. SR came over to help me.
‘Ms. Mina! I’ll hold it from behind, so hurry up and get on!’
‘Aaaaaaaaah!!!!! Don’t let go! Don’t let go! I’m going to fall! I said don’t let go!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!’
My voice echoed loudly across the entire Yeouido Plaza, and so Ms. SR spent 30 minutes going around in circles like a zombie, holding onto the back of my bicycle.
I can never forget that day at Yeouido Plaza, where I inhaled the wind of the greatest freedom of my life through my nostrils and rode the bike excitedly, panting until my voice went hoarse.
But, unfortunately, that was the last entry in the brief history of my few bike-riding experiences in Korea.
And then, I remember ambitiously writing this in my notebook.
Things I like: Riding a bike (while struggling)
Where I want to live: A place where I can roam around freely on a bicycle
After settling in La Garriga, a town near Barcelona, I briefly wondered if I should buy a car for school pick-ups, but I decided to rely on a friend’s mother’s car and finally bought a bicycle as I had wished.
However, there was no one to hold the back of the bike for me, and since it seemed like no one was around, I managed to get on, but I often ended up falling over, yelping, if a car, person, or dog appeared from the opposite direction.
A little kid once looked at me and pointed their thumb down to mock my cycling skills. I have some pride and dignity too, so after that, I had been keeping the bike tucked away at home.
But then, but then, the opportunity came!!!!
In the locked-down streets, not a car, person, dog, or even a pigeon could be seen.
The whole town became like Yeouido Plaza; I wasn’t embarrassed even if I wobbled or fell, and the neighborhood kids who used to chase me and mock me with their thumbs down were, fortunately, confined to their homes at that time.
So, I ambitiously hung a lunch bag on the handlebars and started pedaling.
Oh…. I’m riding quite well.
Once I got some momentum, I immediately got the hang of it.
With nothing in my way, my confidence soared.
I was pedaling along, excitedly caught up in the moment, but of course, I took a wrong turn.
I am a person with no sense of direction, second to none.
However, since it would be a burden to start over if I stopped the riding momentum I had finally gained, I began chanting a spell in my head.
‘Right, right… this is the right way….’
In the end, after going the wrong way for a long time, I had to stop in front of an open field reeking of cow dung.
I looked at Google Maps again, and I had to admit that the definition of having no sense of direction encompasses ‘not being able to read a map’ and ‘not being able to find the way even after looking at a map’.
Even the birds flying by must have noticed that I was circling the same spot dozens of times.
The only one who didn’t notice was me.
Suddenly, raindrops began to fall.
‘Wait? The delivery bag is paper; what if it tears?’
The raindrops that were pitter-pattering gradually grew thicker and turned into a downpour.
I was already soaking wet. I took the lunch box off the handlebars, placed it on the back, and took off my coat to wrap it around the lunch box.
The house I was looking for didn’t appear.
Now my legs were shaking. It felt like I had circled the entire town.
One moment I was excited because no one was around, and now, I was dying for just one person to appear so I could ask for directions.
I was so drenched that I couldn’t tell if it was tears or rain flowing down from my eyebrows without being filtered.
I repeated the process of stopping and starting the bike countless times.
Each time, I wobbled and shook.
The road was slippery, and my energy was gradually depleting.
By this time, it felt like the lunch box would have already turned into mush.
God’s test didn’t end there.
After wandering around for a long time, the moment I thought, ‘Now I’m on the right path!’, a massive uphill road appeared right in front of me.
My legs were already completely spent, and the road was as slippery as could be, so I had no choice but to slowly push my bike up that hill in the rain.
I wanted to throw away the bike and the ruined lunch box and just go home.
Even if I found the house now, I was over 30 minutes late, so I felt like the customer would be so angry they’d slam the messy lunch box I handed them onto the pavement.
Just as I was finishing pushing the bike up the long hill with a heavy heart,
At the end of the hill where not even an ant could be seen, someone was standing in front of the gate holding an umbrella.
It was the customer who had ordered the lunch box.
A wave of relief, guilt, an inexplicable sorrow, and embarrassment over my bedraggled, soaking wet appearance all came rushing in at once.
The customer looked at me, seemed at a loss for what to do, then ran over and held an umbrella over me.
I was so happy to have found the house, but I stood before the customer half-sobbing, a mess of misery at having to hand over a lunch bag that had turned into a wet rag and self-pity for all the hardships I’d just been through.
‘I am so, so sorry. I didn’t know it was going to rain, so I packed the lunch in a paper bag. But it rained so much on the way, and I’m not good at riding a bike, and I have a poor sense of direction, so I got lost trying to find the house, and the lunch must be all soaked…. I’m truly sorry. Please do not give me any money. And I don’t know what state the lunch is in, but if water got inside, please don’t eat it and let me know. I’ll pack a fresh one and bring it to you next time…..’
Since I said this while sobbing into Google Translate, which performs even worse with voice recognition, these words must have been translated into something completely absurd and ridiculous.
However, the customer grabbed my hand firmly and was very, very apologetic.
‘I never imagined you would come here by bike…. I’m so sorry….’
In the rain, I held hands with a customer I had met for the first time, sniffled for quite a while, and then said goodbye and headed back.
On the way down the hill, the clouds still hung low, but the rain had stopped.
Surprisingly, I was making graceful turns, steering the handlebars confidently and smoothly.
I didn’t even have to pedal with my tired legs. Every time I slightly adjusted the handlebars, my bicycle wheels seemed to compose a beautiful melody, leaving musical notes behind me.
I started humming. And the scent of lilacs drifted into my nostrils.
The scent of the spring earth, brought to life as it soaked up the raindrops, wafted in.
I was free.
I was proud.
I am part of the delivery nation.
And here I am, riding my bike and humming like this!!!
I came down the hill into the village in a state of semi-intoxication with myself, when a car with flashing lights started following me from behind. As if to show off my skills, I pedaled even harder, and it chased me even more closely. Then, someone started shouting something through a microphone at the world outside.
I took it as a command to go faster, so I squeezed out my last bit of strength and pedaled hard.
After about ten minutes of this chase, as soon as I exited a one-way alley, the car blocked my path, and a person slammed the door shut and stepped out—it was the police.
‘Hola!!!’
Overjoyed at having completed my delivery mission, I greeted them at the top of my lungs, still soaking wet.
The policeman looked down at me with an expression of utter disgust.
‘Show me your ID, give me your name, we are taking you to the station right now!!!’
Google Translate told me.
‘What did you say? You’re taking me in?’
I just blinked my eyes.
The police, patrolling the locked-down village, were checking anyone they found to see where they were going and if they had proper documentation. They had spotted this mysterious bicycle and followed it, demanding it stop. Having finished a difficult delivery and feeling high because I was riding so well, I had ignored whatever they were shouting and interpreted it as I pleased, leading the police car on a 10-minute chase. After I explained that I ran the newly opened takeout lunch shop near the plaza, was from Korea, and was heading home after a delivery, they asked to see a business card with a suspicious look.
Of course, I didn’t carry anything like a business card.
The police officer who had come out spoke to the officer in the passenger seat for a long time, perhaps thinking it would be more of a headache to keep me there since I was just blinking my eyes, and then he let me go.
After that, there was another time I was caught by a police car while out for a delivery.
When the police car followed me from behind with its lights flashing, this time I immediately became a gentle lamb and stopped the bicycle right away.
I heard a sound coming through the police officer’s radio as he asked for my ID, and among the Catalan words I couldn’t understand at all, I clearly heard the two syllables of my name. ‘Mina, Mina…’
I tried to guess the content.
‘Some unknown Asian woman is wandering around the whole town on a bicycle. It’s a woman named Mina who delivers lunch boxes. If you chase her, she runs away faster. She ignores you even if you yell at her to stop. Even if you lecture her, she doesn’t understand. If possible, don’t waste your time and just leave her be.’
After that, until the lockdown was lifted, I excitedly delivered on my bicycle as if I had rented out the whole town.
When there weren’t many orders, I made a lot of lunch boxes and brought them to the police station.
It was an expression of camaraderie toward my only comrades on the street.
Until the lockdown ended, whenever we met a police car on the street, we would call out each other’s names loudly and wave.
Even after the lockdown ended, there was a time I went to throw away a bunch of recycling tied to my bike, completely forgot the bike, and just came back to the shop; even then, the police recognized it was my bike and brought it back to me.
After moving to a new house, when I called the police because of kids smoking marijuana in front of the house, the police already knew my home address just by hearing my name and handled it for me.
The lockdown left me with many things.
The heart shared with a customer who, despite me handing over a miserable lunch box 30 minutes late, held my hand tightly and held an umbrella for me, worrying about me and feeling sorry instead;
Police friends who became friends and would help me with anything with their sleeves rolled up;
And more than anything, the sweet dates with the spring flowers blooming in every corner of this beautiful town while riding the bicycle I love to my heart’s content; the flowers blooming in profusion on the streets where no one was watching seemed to emit an especially fragrant scent and speak to me, their only spectator, as I passed by on my bike.
‘Hi Mina? Look at me! It’s the purple you like. Would you also like to smell the fragrance?’
The enchanting date with the alluring spring flowers and the beautiful village, which I alone fully enjoyed while the whole town was trapped in silence, is etched deep within my cells.
