[KapanLagi Cerita Korea Ep 4] 'Ppalli Ppalli!', Life in Korea That is Always Chased by Time

Kapanlagi.com - I stood in front of my dormitory building. Saturday morning in the UNIST university complex is always calm. It's almost summer, but the air is still cold, the dew is still thick. The other dormitory residents are still sound asleep. There are two men jogging across the street, so diligent in the morning. Even though the jogging track at UNIST is quite long. I took out my cellphone from my pants pocket and pressed the number button on the screen. The automatic dial tone sounded.

"Call taxi Ulsan," a woman's voice said after the tone stopped.

"Yeoboseyo (hello)," I said. "I'm at UNIST, can you send a taxi?"

"Okay, wait a moment," followed by the sound of typing on the keyboard. "Please wait three minutes, thank you."

After I replied with thank you, the call ended. I opened the Kakaotalk application on my cellphone, 'I'm leaving UNIST', I sent a message to Anar, my friend. We haven't met since high school graduation, because I study in Ulsan City and he is in Daejeon City, hundreds of kilometers from my campus. While I have the time, I went to Daejeon that morning.

Across the street, the runners from earlier were visible again. They're in such a hurry, as if being chased. As I followed them with my eyes, a taxi suddenly appeared towards me. The display board on the front windshield said 'yeyak', which means order, flashing red. Lah, he's already here too. There's no such thing as being late in Korea. I quickly ran past the crowd and hugged Anar tightly. He laughed.

"Why did you come already? We agreed to meet later," I asked.

"Ah, it's nice to come early," he replied. "Why did you arrive alone?"

I smiled, remembering everything that happened this morning. It turns out that even I, who always tries to stay calm, have already adapted to life in Korea and unconsciously follow its flow.

"Ppalli ppalli," I answered.

Written By: Irfan Rulianto (Instagram: @irfan_ruli)

"Call taxi?" the taxi driver ajusshi asked, big sunglasses perched on his nose.

"Yes," I answered as I opened the back door and got in. "To Ulsan Station, please."

The distance from UNIST to Ulsan Station is about 6 kilometers, so I estimated that the journey would take 20 minutes, if the traffic is normal. I planned to take a train that departs in 40 minutes, so I could relax. Ajusshi immediately stepped on the gas and drove us to Ulsan Station. This person is speeding, I thought, even though the streets are not empty. Every minute, the speed of the taxi feels faster, until finally the speed limit alarm on the navigation device sounded. I started to worry.

"Ajusshi, please slow down, I'm not in a hurry," I said. He laughed at the panic in my voice.

"Relax, it's normal," he replied, although I noticed the speedometer drop slightly. "It's nice to go fast."

Oh, right, 'ppalli ppalli'. The most common expression in Korea, which means 'quickly'. It's not just about internet speed, this fast-paced culture is present in everyday life. One example is on the road like this. Taxis, buses, private cars, all speeding and racing each other. Not to mention motorcycles that often ride on the sidewalk to avoid traffic and confidently force pedestrians to move aside. Although I understand motorcycle riders, because they are food delivery couriers, their responsibilities are heavy. I remember seeing a Chinese food courier being scolded in front of an apartment for being '30 minutes late'. Poor thing.

What's surprising is that they are reckless but calm. No traffic violations or honking like in Jakarta. It's as if there is an understanding among road users that this is normal.

"We've arrived," I heard the ajusshi say in front of me.

Wow, a record 10-minute journey from campus, I'm going to wait a long time at the station. I handed the exact fare to the ajusshi and walked leisurely to the station entrance. The large screen above the ticket vending machine showed the train departure schedule. Turns out there's a train to Daejeon departing in 4 minutes. Just going up, I decided, while running towards the ticket machine. After getting the ticket in my hand, I immediately went up the escalator to the train platform on the upper floor. On the last step of the escalator, I heard an announcement from the speaker above my head.

"The train will arrive soon, please maintain distance."

I casually walked to platform number 9, as written on my ticket. No need to hurry, there were already seats for everyone. People were already lining up neatly in each platform row. From the left side view, the front of the train began to approach. The sound of the brakes was deafening, I covered my ears tightly with both hands, until finally, carriage number 9 stopped in front of my row. The automatic door opened, the train crew in light blue suits and black skirts came down to the platform, clack, clack, the sound of their high heels.

"Welcome," they greeted with a smile. They bowed, then invited us to board.

I followed the other passengers in front of me and quickly boarded the train. I looked at the ticket again, 14A. Okay, a window seat, I thought while chuckling. The best thing about riding the KTX train is the view. Because the train speed is 300 kilometers per hour, the scenery seen from the window always changes and never gets boring. Twelve, thirteen, ah, here it is. It turned out to be empty next to me. I sat in my seat and plugged my ears with earphones, the music player on my cellphone turned on. I closed my eyes, thinking about how to spend my time at Daejeon station until I meet Anar.

"...Excuse me, may I see your ticket?"

I opened my eyes and took out the earphones from my ears. I must have fallen asleep. I looked for the direction of the voice, there was a KTX staff smiling at me with a cellphone and a pen in his hand. After I showed him my ticket, he smiled again.

"Thank you," he said, then turned towards the passengers on the other side.

How long did I sleep earlier? I looked at the TV screen hanging from the ceiling of the carriage. A tourism advertisement for Daejeon City was playing, with the words "next station Daejeon" below the screen. It turns out I slept for almost an hour, my eyes still felt sleepy. Usually, it takes 3 hours to get to Daejeon from Ulsan by bus, but I missed my friend, so I bought a KTX ticket that was almost twice the price.

"Next station, Daejeon station, Daejeon station," an announcement voice came from the speaker.

On the TV screen, there was a large text 'Daejeon station' in Korean, Mandarin, Japanese, and English. Announcements like this appear about 5 to 10 minutes before each station stop, just to prepare the passengers. I sat back and relaxed, put on my earphones again. Meanwhile, some passengers started to stand up and carry their belongings towards the exit door, ppalli ppalli to get in line again.

Ppalli ppalli is already ingrained in the Korean people's souls, I remember the story from my high school history teacher. Previously, Korea was in a state of decline after the war in the early 1950s, so the Korean people were forced to rebuild their country together quickly. Through innovation and technological development, giant companies like Samsung and LG emerged, eventually making South Korea one of the richest countries in the world. And the culture of ppalli ppalli is still preserved by Korea until now, through food delivery and queuing to get off the train.

After the train stops and the doors open, I immediately get up from my seat to join other passengers in getting off. Dozens of people walk quickly from the platform into the station building, all walking fast without chaos. I follow them, still confused about the remaining time.

"Irfan!", someone suddenly shouts. I look around, because it's impossible for someone else named Irfan to be here.

"Irfan! Look here!", the voice again, now clearer.

There, in front, is Anar, his right hand raised high and waving, his smile wide.

(kpl/jje)