Second acts for Korean women: When the kids go off to college
Among the many ride hailing apps in Korea is one I like in particular. It runs newer vans and sedans, and has a reputation for vetting and retaining well-mannered drivers. Even among the stiff competition that is everything K, it stands out. I always look there first for our airport rides, and I associate the clean white Starias that pull up with comfortable and reliable transport.
On a recent pickup at Incheon, the automatic door clicked and slid open as it always does. But this time, the well-mannered driver was a fifty-something woman. Women drivers are rare everywhere, but this was my first time encountering a woman driver through this platform. Naturally, I asked her how she got started in her line of work.
My educated guess was that the woman’s children had grown up, and suddenly she found herself with not much to do. Still, choosing driving as opposed to childcare or housework or even retail felt brave to me. Not only since driving means handling baggage and being alone with strangers in a car, but also because being a woman driver breaks a psychological mold.
“I wanted to participate in the economy,” she explained while expertly navigating the sea of traffic. “And I like driving, so I went for it. It has been a lot of fun.” “Good for you,” I replied. “When I saw you in the car today, I felt like I won.”
As luck would have it, the ride hailing app added a feature to save preferred drivers and to request them for future rides. So the first chance I got, I requested Mrs. Driver and was pleased she accepted the five-hour gig to take my family to our nanny’s wedding luncheon and back.
It was a typically chaotic trip, with two bickering girls and a toddler lurching around the cabin while the car was frequently stuck in Seoul’s kludgy Saturday traffic. By contrast, our driver was reassuring and calm. Plus, I didn’t feel too exposed the twelve times my toddler tried (and succeeded) in nursing along the way. So I didn’t hesitate to hire her again when an old friend blew into town for a day trip and I decided to pick her up from the airport.
En route to Gimpo with my toddler as sidekick, I marveled inwardly at the affordable luxury it is to have a part-time professional driver in Korea. I remember feeling similarly when I employed a part-time housekeeper and a morning babysitter for my middle child - both women in their 50s as well, whose children were in college. The two times a week when they were both present, I felt both well supported and something more - the warm fullness that comes from being among smart auntie types who care.
It was as though our driver were reading my mind - “I have a question, if you don’t mind,” she said. “The first time I picked you up, you said that you felt that you had won. I drove away feeling great that day. I really wanted to know what you meant.”
How to explain all that I had felt and was feeling now!
“I did feel that I had won,” I said as I considered how to give her a little more without having it be too much. “I was glad you were a woman off to a new start and that I got to ride with you on that journey. It felt special for me.”
It still does.
