The Jackhammer

The Jackhammer

The jackhammer began its insane choppy drone at eight am on Sunday morning. What a relief. On Saturday, it was seven am. Now coffee. Now tolerance. And this is the ‘Land of the Morning Calm’. I beg to differ. This is the “Land of the Painful Hangover”.

But this distinction does not belong to Korea alone. All across the world people drink in social places or alone or on cruise ships, and even in prisons. Well, as nature demands, we wake up with nausea and odd forms of headache and anxiety. Pardon the cliche: “Pay the fiddler.”

But the jackhammers (so much concrete to crush) and the barkers selling goods on bongo pick-up trucks, well, they get up quite early in the morning, and they multiply the deleterious effects exponentially. Thus jackhammers and bongos are to be avoided by most drinking folk.

Then came Monday. Along came the jackhammers at 6:43 am. At 6:44, I heard a muffled cry. I looked at my bed table clock and it was 6:45. No jackhammer.

I fell on the floor and spilled an open bottle of water. Picked myself up and looked out the window. I saw a flash. Black like silk in rain. I Shook my head and went back to bed. Waiting for the cacophony.

Nothing. And in seconds there was the humming of cicadas in the early summer morning. Bewildered, I got up and made coffee. Often looking out my window.

The next day, Tuesday, nothing woke me up. In fact, I was late for work. And I was happy. Since this day, at least in my neighborhood, this day had been a “Land of Morning Calm”. No jackhammers, no barkers, only the sweet sounds of bird songs, light traffic, and cicadas.

But I’m sure the jackhammers and morning barkers in bongo trucks will return. I only hope the mysterious figure will return as well. Until then, all is like a ship on calm water in an uncharted sea. What winds will come to soothe or ruin our wonderful mornings. No one knows.