Bolaven blues

While the United States was distracted (and is still distracted, most likely) with Hurricane Isaac, we had a bit of meteorological excitement ourselves out here in Korea.

Typhoon Bolaven, to be exact.

                                                                                                                                                                                    courtesy of NASA

Now, I've never been in a hurricane. Nowhere close to it. I've never lived far enough south for hurricanes to be a factor in my life, any more so than a few gusts of wind and some giant raindrops. Floods and blizzards were the disasters of choice in North Dakota and Wyoming, and in California, you rarely have to worry about anything more serious than an earthquake. (I've slept through more earthquakes than I've actually witnessed.)

So when I turned on the weather reports and found out that the Korean peninsula was expecting a freakin' typhoon, I was rather excited. Late summer is the rainy season for this region, and we'd been deluged for the past couple of weeks. But I hadn't bargained for this.

All sorts of wild rumors were flying around at school. I was told that I should cover my plate-glass windows with newspaper and duct tape; this would strengthen them against the wind and prevent those of us inside the apartment from being diced up if they broke. This sounded bogus to me, but I did take some precautions. Miss H picked up some tape at the store. I sealed all the windows and the cabinet under the counter where the A/C unit is (don't ask). Being a veteran of desert windstorms, I felt that this at least would prevent moisture and debris from blowing in.

Alice (the head teacher on the second-floor building) informed us on Monday that we would have Tuesday off. Bolaven was expected to make landfall somewhere on the Chinese border sometime in the afternoon. We had little cause to celebrate; we would make up our Tuesday classes on Saturday. This was particularly grating as Miss H and I had planned to be on a southbound train to Busan right about then. Oh well, you can't struggle against nature. To be on the safe side, Miss H and I also laid in some supplies: extra liters of water, canned goods, and granola bars. We had no idea how bad Bolaven was expected to be.

As it turns out, it wasn't. Miss H and I spent Tuesday laying around and watching the storm, which, except for some rolling clouds, high winds and spitting rain, didn't amount to much. The wind was strong enough to rattle the windows and shake the lintel, but that was it. I even went out and took a walk and got some shots of the city. There were downed tree branches in the park, the black clouds boiled overhead, and the wind roared and yammered. But there was no rain, and there was still a respectable number of cars and even pedestrians out and about.

That evening Miss H and I went to Hyundai Department Store for some shopping and dinner. Inside the building it was as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on. I had some delicious sushi at my favorite (and only) sushi bar in the basement, and we went back home and went to bed.

Apparently it was bad everywhere but here in Bucheon. I saw news stories like this and this, which told me that central Seoul had gotten far worse winds, and that down on Jeju Island there were even some deaths (mostly Chinese fishermen, poor souls). Up north, though, was where Bolaven made landfall. I can only imagine how bad things must've been. Crops blown away, flimsy houses knocked over, and no infrastructure or Red Cross or state aid to help the poor people in trouble. Deplorable.

And to make matters worse, now I gotta work Saturday.

Shazbot.