Swimming Pool 101

Alrighty guys. Gonna make a quick post that I've been meaning to put up since last week.

This past week flew by since I started a new schedule at the hakwon for a short 6 week winter break program. It basically takes up my Tuesday and Thursday mornings, but still gives me time to make the 8:00-8:50 swimming schedule at the YMCA. Swim, shower, home, change, work til 9. Wednesday (work at 12:30, finish at 8:00, go tutor for 3 hours, go home and sleep) gets sandwiched by 8:00-9:00 Tuesday Thursdays. Don't get me wrong, it's worth the pocket money, but goodness I'm beat by Friday night.

So about that swimming pool.

First of all, swimming pool memberships are locked into time slots prepaid by the month. Basically these time slots are the times that are not being used by various other classes and programs. Generally, it's at the crack of dawn, lunch time, and again around 7 or 8. Most pools work this way.

Getting into the pool is quite different from what the American would be used to... i.e. getting publicly naked first. It's a fusion of pool and Korean sauna. Get your key, go to the locker room, strip down (essential to going to the showers as you will be stopped along the way by some ajumma before you have time to reach the shower floor in your bathing suit), go down stairs to the shower room, shower down with soap (rinsing is frowned upon), put your bathing suit on, and go straight from the shower room to the pool (you have to go through it to reach the pool).

I first experienced that when I was going to Korea University and I took a swimming class to finish off my credits while helping out with exercise at the same time. I lived right next door, so I saw no difference between rinsing down before and leaving my house with my bathing suit on under exercise clothes and making a B line for the pool--cause who wants to flaunt themselves to the local grandma population and fellow classmates? I was stopped many a time, but pulled the "I don't know, I'm a foreigner card" and they stopped bothering me. Bad Tessa, bad.

But as time goes on, you get used to the whole naked thing and just do it for the sake of efficiency and oddly enough avoiding interaction. That was the extent of my knowledge until I got to the YMCA for free swim...

It turns out there's an unspoken social dynamic in the 8:00 swim population.

You see, there's 6 lanes, two for each level: beginner, intermediate, and advanced. In the first week, I went with the intermediate level. And kept getting hit on the head by swimmers in the lane (there are usually about 5 people or more in each lane, just swimming laps). They were also really slow. I'm no competitive swimmer, but this was too much. Apparently "beginner" means "I can be in water by myself and not die" and intermediate means "I can reach the other side and come back without stopping midway." I couldn't get my heart rate up with this group taking up the lane, so I got some guts and went over to the advanced level.

I got fussed at by this woman for being too slow. As it turns out one of the advanced lanes (which had the least amount of people, the reason why I went there) is for this clique of swimmers that like to have leisurely laps and then suddenly sprint with butterflies and stuff. The next lane moved at my pace, or a little faster which pushes me to swim harder. Fine with me. But I had to be shamed first to get in. I always felt the disapproving eyes of that woman ever since--and you know she comes every day, as you will notice with most of the swimmers.

Though there are jolly and light hearted old women in the swimming "community" you can't help but feel the burn of those who seem to somehow be sitting at the top of the hierarchy. Going back to the shower, there are a lot of old women striking up conversation (some people try to talk in the pool but I promptly cut conversation with the point that I need to exercise. If I stop, it's cause I absolutely should breath before I go again if I don't want to drown.) but there are many whose lives revolve around making others follow rules.

Last week I had a bad day. I woke up a little late, and rushed to the pool. Started my laps. I made a lazy stretch with my arm as I was swimming and just slammed my middle and ring fingers into the plastic lane ropes. It's still bruised. But that put me off for the swim, thinking about whether it was worth it to stop and go ice it. I didn't. Somewhere along the way in deep thought, I realized my ear plug fell out (I've got sensitive ears). I stood up and looked around. It would be impossible to find the sky blue silicone plug in the turquoise water. As I was being hit by swimmers going past on both sides, the mean lady asked me if I lost something. Disheartened, I pointed to my remaining plug and said that it fell out. To get out of the way, I popped it back in my ear and I kept moving. For about 2 laps, I was thinking about where to get it and whether internet shopping would be worth the 2.50 shipping fee for something that only costs 7 dollars... but where would I find swimming gear nearby? etc etc etc. Back to the end of the lane, the woman was waiting for me with my ear plug in hand, and gave it back to me smiling.

At that point, I felt so relieved but also in a state of surprise and near confusion about my relationship with this woman. I realized then that she wasn't there to chastise me so much as to look after me. Though she has yet to compliment my swimming, she has accepted me as a "usual" member. There's a term for relationships between Koreans--jung. It's not quite love, but a bond that people have as humans to look out and care for one another. Ah, it's not social responsibility either. You have to feel it and then you know.

That morning, I realized that there's more kindness in that cold pool than I thought, and as cliche as it seems that bad days can and do get better.

That's as well as I can conclude this story, since I have to rush off to work. I spent the morning finding a laundromat that would clean my Uggs after I spilt board marker ink on them. They're now in the "hospital" for 3 weeks... Let's hope that bad thing will turn out nicely, too. Pleeeaaase?