Oops: When Red Lights Are Not Suggestions

We live on a small university campus on top of a mountain about 2 km from the East Sea (which less-enlightened people might believe is named the Sea of Japan).  Our apartment building is at the tippy-top of the campus and from our 5th-floor apartment we can see the ocean, the neighboring town/suburb on the north side of Pohang (city of about 1/2 million folks), and even the smokestacks from the downtown steel works (eight km south).  It's not a long distance into town, but it takes some skilled driving: across 10 campus speed bumps (oh, how I wish I was exaggerating), down the pine forested mountain, along a twisty two-lane road amid rice fields, and through an industrial park (where a mountain once resided but was dumped into the ocean to make the port).  Then we get to a village (my favorite for beach-walking) and then to the town/suburb of high-rise apartments, restaurants, dozens of coffee shops, and a ba-jillion smart phone shops.

Upon moving here, we noted that on the highway and in the city proper, posted traffic signs and signals were mostly obeyed by private cars (scooters obey no law; buses and taxis have their own law).  But now, as highly-skilled Korean drivers, we know which traffic lights are jokes, which are reasonable suggestions, and which should actually be obeyed.

Until the rules changed today.  After slowing slightly to ensure that no cross traffic was at the familiar 3-way village intersection, I blew through a red light as usual (going only 60kph, compared to at least 80kph by taxis and giant trucks heading to the port). Just after I did so, a police officer (a far, FAR rarer species on Korean roads than American ones) stepped into the road ahead of me and pointed to the side.  Uh oh. I stopped, he spoke in rapid Korean, and I just smiled brightly.  He got a wee bit more aggravated as he gestured in a square-ish fashion. I am not sure why I enjoy playing Dumb American as much as I do, so with a small bit of regret I give him some slack. "License?" I asked, and he nodded.  Whereupon he walked back to his car and chatted with a  young police woman; she stood behind my car and ran my license through what appeared to be an app on her phone then approached my window.

She was adorable.  I could not stop smiling or giggling and would have happily accepted a ticket from her.  Her English was poor (far better than my own Korean, though), but she got the point across as she smiled and stammered.  "Cross-street walk?  Old people?  Red light? You go SHWOOOM!"  I played dumb for a little longer because, well, because I'm evil and wanted to hear her say it all again. So she did and I repeated what she'd said and she brightened even further at our successful communication.  Then she inexplicably stuck her loose fist through my window.  "Yak-soak!" (약속) she repeated, shaking her extended pinky towards me.  I, just having brought David to the doctor (he broke his arm again this week), thought she was saying "pharmacy" (약국) and was very confused (I passed a drugstore? I was on drugs?  what??) until she wiggled her pinky again and said "plo-miss."

Aha!  I pinky-promised a Korean police officer not to run red lights anymore.  Oh my goodness, this is a fantastic place to live.  :)