Jesus Led Me
All the Way

The Man Called Hama and the Suitcase at Gimpo Airport

I arrived at Gimpo International Airport late in the evening, June 2nd 1982. The man who had promised to meet me wasn't there yet. I came without any contact information in Seoul and I didn't understand the culture engaged in "Korea Time." Before the smartphone and subway system, Korean people were always late. Traffic problems was the common excuse. I was stranded and I couldn't speak Korean and it seemed that nobody at the airport could speak English. All I could do was sit on one of my suitcases and worry about my unbearable problems.

That "late" man, nicknamed Hama (hippo), was one hour late. He must have been called Hama because for a Korean he had a rather large flat nose. He was supposed to take me to a simple motel for one night before putting me on a highway bus the next morning — south to Gwangju for my internship with Youth For Christ. It was scary because my mind was exploding. I thought I was going to have to teach English to 40 plus million Koreans — never realizing that common sense would tell me: Bill, you have to learn Korean.