Waygook Go Home: Part 2 of 2

Hi, The Expat here.  I once smoked a crack rock with a homeless person on a street corner in Los Angeles, but today I’ll be your driver.  Where you may ask?  We’re going to Incheon International Airport.  I’ve got 6 Mercedes Benz double-decker tourist buses on lease from the Korean government, and I’m running the Underground Waygook Express.

Each bus has 66 seats, totaling 396 seats.  As of right now, 121 of the seats have been reserved.  Years of marriage have significantly reduced my finances, and I am unable to provide for the Underground Waygook Express Bus Service alone.  The following Korean groups have contributed to the “Get Whitey Out of Korea” fund:

  1. All major newspapers in Korea
  2. The anti-American Beef Daum Group
  3. The Mothers of Hagwon Children Naver Club
  4. The Korean Male Recruiter Association
  5. The Anti-English Teacher Union of Seoul
  6. The Korean Bureau of Immigration
  7. The Association of Mail Order Brides from Vietnam
  8. The Association of Big White Girls Married to Koreans.
  9. The Association of Male Hagwon Owners
  10. The Association of Lonely, Single 30-something Korean Males
  11. The Association of Unemployed Candle Light Vigil Protesters
  12. The Citizens’ Association for Lawful English Education
  13. The Citizens’ Association for Monitoring Foreign Male Minority Groups

And the list goes on..  I know that most of you want to leave, but you can’t.  Your boss is holding your salary as collateral, or you face the prospect of being black-listed if you do a midnight run.  Or maybe you just have a mental barrier in place that is preventing you from leaving Korea.  Obviously, you are in the wrong state of mind, my friend.

When you hear the horns honking on my Mercedes Benz Double Decker Tourist Bus as I pull into your neighborhood, you will have approximately 15 minutes to pack one bag and make a run for it.  There’s no turning back.  If you don’t have a ticket, you can pay at the door, assuming seats are available.

The six buses will run up and down the peninsula and from East to West.  We’ll make stops in Incheon, Daejeon, Gwangju and Seongnam.  Our brothers on Jeju island will have to take a raft to the main land and proceed to the nearest large city.  Then we’re stopping in Ulsan, Bucheon, Suwon and Anyang.  I’ll only honk twice, and you’ll only have 15 minutes to make it.  We’re not turning back.

Then it’s on to Changweon, Pohong, Masan and Euijeongbu.  I’ve received emails from enlisted American soldiers asking if they can board my buses.  I’m sorry to all of my Army brothers, but at this point, we’re just taking ESL teachers and other lifers.  Priority will be given to those who have spent the longest amounts of time in Korea, as well as those who are the oldest or have accumulated the most divorces.  You get bonus points for time spent living with a woman, children or in-laws.  If you’re young and you’ve just arrived in Korea, you may have to catch next year’s bus, sorry dudes.

We’ll snake on through Cheonan, Kunsan, Pyeongtaek and Yeosu before finally locking the doors, baring the windows and pointing these 19 ton metal beasts towards Incheon airport.  On the buses there will be no kimchi, no k-pop, no Koreans and no women.

I’ve received a few emails from desperate gyopos asking me if they can board my bus.  Gyopos (who have been personally screened by myself) may board the bus, however they must sign documents swearing never to return to Korea again.  They’ll have to place their hand on the bible and kiss an American flag before being granted a ticket to this bus.

Here are a few emails I’ve received in response to my efforts:

“Hey Dude, I’m an American businessman who came here one year ago.  I invested 3 million dollars of my personal savings, and hired a staff of Korean workers.  Three months into my stay here, I found that eight different Korean companies were copying my products and pushing me out of the marketplace.  Furthermore, the public prosecutors office is chasing me.  I’ve been living out of a brief case, under a bridge in Bucheon, please send me a ticket for your “Waygook Express Bus”.  –Sincerely, Bobby in Bucheon

“Hi man.  Before I came to Korea, White people kept telling me that as a Black man, I’d face discrimination here.  I thought they were just trying to scare me out of a job, so I came anyway.  I’ve been here for a year and I can’t take it anymore.  Every time I use a public restroom, Korean men try to stare at my penis.  Just yesterday I was walking in Gangnam, and a group of Korean university students began hooting at me, and making monkey noises.  Those White people were right, fuck this noise!  Please send me a ticket for your “Waygook Express Bus”.  –Sincerely, DeAndre in Daejeon.

“Expat, dude, that last post of yours was a real eye opener dude.  I’ve been here for 3 years and accomplished absolutely nothing in my life.  My boss never pays on time, and I share a tiny apartment with four other waygooks.  When I walk down the street, people scowl at me.  I don’t have enough money to get out of Korea, but I heard that you’ve helped other individuals like me, in similar circumstances.  Please send me a ticket for your “Waygook Express Bus”.  Sincerely, Mark in Masan.

“Yo man, I’m gone my brother.  Your words really spoke to me.  I’ve been living in Korea for 12 years.  My wife doesn’t love me, and my kids treat me like a walking ATM machine.  I’m 38 years old, and I have a degree in Chemistry, what am I doing teaching English?  Fuck ‘em, I’m ready to go.  I’ve ripped up their passports and documents.  Where I’m goin’, they ain’t followin’.  I don’t even feel guilty about it.  Give me a one way ticket outa here brother.”  From Paul in Pyeongtaek.

Jacques, my good friend.  You must help me.  I am a French man who owns a French restaurant in Seoul.  Every day I’m dying little by little mon ami. The water here is not sufficiently clean and fresh to make proper French bread, and I cringe when I see my customers eating the shit we are forced to produce.  I’m closing up shop mon ami, please send me the ticket now and get me out of here, Ca me fait chier! Etienne in Bangbae

We will start in the northern part of Korea and make one final tour of the country from north to south and into the northwest. It will be a ten day trip. A final hoorrah. A final goodbye. No Korean wives and no Korean children allowed. This bus is only for guys who have finally made the big decision. Korea is history.

On the buses you will be able to eat (no Korean food) and drink (no Korean beer) and socialize (no talking about Korea).  You can start to forget every Korean word you’ve learned.  You won’t need them where we’re going.  You may sit quietly on the bus and reflect.  A time to regroup and re-think before getting on the plane and heading back to responsible people and dependable services and emotions you can rely on. Back to the real world.

You can talk about interesting things with your comrades, things like art, and philosophy, and engineering, and history, and science.  No, these interesting subjects did not go away while you were in Korea–you went away.  It’s ok. You don’t have to pretend anymore.  There won’t be any tour guides on these buses.  Only 396 men who have decided to move forward with their lives, onwards and upwards.  A page turning moment in your life that all of your adult friends will respect.

Some of you may cry and others will be in shock. The shock of acknowledgment that the horror is finally over.  No more Korean language classes, no more fear of persecution, no more getting paid late, no more getting shafted by hagwon bosses and owners and government officialdom, no more trips to other stupid unsympathetic places on visa runs, no more incompetent doctors and mystery pills for what turned out to be a common cold.  No more grown men wearing backpacks.

No more lying to friends about how great Korea is, no more surreptitiously reading copies of the LA Times to find out what is happening back in civilization, no more dropping friendships with migratory ESL expats who come and go every year.  It is over. Finished. It is smiling time.  Initially it will be disorientation as you board, then shock, then tears, then sleeping, then smiles.

You made a horrible mistake by coming to Korea.  You know that now. Years were wasted, emotions were wasted and parts of your life can never be retrieved. But you are still alive, and still breathing, and still interested in seeing sunrises and sunsets. Just not in Korea.

Stepping off the plane in civilization you’ll feel as though you’ve been re-born.  You’ll wish you could go back and retrieve friends and former co-workers who are still clinging to ESL pipe dreams with false hopes for a better tomorrow.  This is the last boarding call for the Underground Waygook Express headed for Incheon International Airport. Your documents are in order and your tickets are in hand.  Your home country will honor your passport and there will be no drug tests, AIDS tests or document authentication tests. You are going to get another chance at life.  You have a degree, and you have value as a human being.  Don’t mess it up this time.

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3 Responses to Waygook Go Home: Part 2 of 2

  1. Andyroo says:

    Found a bucket load of applicants on daves, on page 4 one even suggests a detox before going home

    “Book a flight to Thailand. Go to a detox center. Green smoothies or water diet for a week and cardio: sweat all the red pepper and kimchi out of your system. Then, follow it up with a month or two at a muay thai camp.”


  2. Steve McQueen says:

    Hi Jake, Steve McQueen here. You may remember me from movies such as “The Great Escape” and “The Getaway”. I just broke my spoon in an attempt to digg a tunnel to Japan. Can I still board the Underground Waygook Express?

  3. Garrett says:

    if there aren’t anymore seats left, I’ll ride on the bike rack on the front of the bus or strap myself to the top. Don’t leave without me, man!!! Please!!

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