“Good Morning, Mr Kim” These are not the first words that instantly come to mind when being woken up to the sound of metal pipes being dropped twenty foot into a large hole. This clangorous assault on my sleep is accompanied by the inconsistent banging of a hammer, a utility van with its engine running while blasting out K-Pop as men attempt to shout over the noise. It’s Tuesday, seven in the morning – not my ideal wake-up call as I was expecting at least another uninterrupted hour in bed.

Of course, alarm clocks are normally not a sound people like and can be associated with that of a crying baby or somebody dragging their finger nails down a chalkboard. Generally these are universally considered sounds of aural torture. I have yet to speak to anybody who when asked what music they like, reply with ‘a cat on heat’.

In Korea I have had more unexpected awakenings than I have ever experienced anywhere else. Prior to the ridiculously early building going on just a few feet from my door I have had to suffer the ‘vegetable van’. This frequently siphons away my precious sleeping hours. Fitted with loudspeakers, it informs everyone within a hundred-foot radius that its radishes are ripe, the oranges are organic and the offer of the moment is onions.

My temptation to stay in bed is now dwarfed by the loud interchangeable noises,incompatible with my rest time.
However there is yang to my yin as I now get my five-a-day.

© John Brownlie 2011