Seeing Stars

It was a warm and breezy night outside of my army base in South Korea.  I had just finished teaching an English class in the small town of Dongducheon and was out on a walk with two of my students.  One was a Korean Army officer and the other a female display designer who worked in the small mall inside my base.  We wandered the streets until quite late and ended up sitting in a circle on a patch of grass just under the imposing Indian statue of the 2nd Infantry Division.  

Our conversation meandered for quite some time until interrupted by someone bellowing in a drunken manner.  Coming around the corner from the direction of downtown was an imposing but obviously intoxicated Korean Marine in uniform accompanied by another Korean man in civilian clothes.  We watched with some amusement as he swayed and blustered his way down the sidewalk yelling at any American within earshot.  His friend had the unenviable task of trying to steer him away from trouble.

I guess it should have been obvious he was looking for a fight, but I had the unshakeable conviction that no one meant to do me harm.  I had put myself in many iffy situations during my time in Korea and had come out unscathed, convinced I was invulnerable if not invisible.  My Korean companions were a little less sure of the situation and suggested we get up and go elsewhere.  I assured them I was not scared as the uncharacteristically large Korean male stumbled my way.  I did not look at him though I knew he was following the sidewalk that wound around the base entrance and passed only a few feet from where we sat under the statue.

I tried to resume our conversation and for a few moments it was quiet again.  When I heard him again it was very close and just to my back left side.  As I turned my head to look up at where the noise was coming from, I briefly saw a large hand descending fast and hard.  It connected with the side of my head whipping me around and down to the ground.  The world disappeared as my eyes stopped working and all became black, followed by little flashes of light like brilliant stars twinkling in the night sky.  My brain was rebooting.  

Dazed, I pushed myself back up into a sitting position and heard my male companion yelling at the Marine and his friend.  As my eyesight started to clear I saw him grab the Marine's leg and lift it up while pushing him back and off balance.  He then yelled at the friend, telling him to get this guy out of here.  The Korean girl's eyes had grown as large as saucers.  "Are you OK?" She asked.  I smiled and told her I was fine, though I was still in a bit of a fog and felt a little nauseous as well.  It's little wonder that the blow didn't kill me and surely there was a lesson there for me to learn.  Unfortunately, it took several more years, getting married, and having kids before it truly sunk in.  Denial is a son of a gun.

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