Survivor Heathensville 2011 (Part 1)

When I arrived in South Korea 10 months ago I had some aspirations. After a few meager travels I considered myself a shrewd trekker, bringing wisdom from corners of the globe to the crowds that would soon gather to hear all I had to say. I had no idea what the alien world called Korea would hold for me, but I was optimistic. The East, the future, onwards and upwards I thought.

no smiles at Heathensville '10

Two weeks in and I was dealt a blow that derailed any hopes of a rise to greatness. It was Survivor Heathensville. The first, the raw edition, the experiment. The disaster. A drinking competition designed to take the human body to the very lengths and depths it was capable of. Add to this a bunch of heathens whose touch would bring holy water to the boil, and the affair was only going one way. Down. To hell. Overnight I was swept into a world of depravity, from which there was no return. I know that I can’t blame myself, for who could have known what that day would unleash onto us all. But I still wonder what my life would be like if I hadn’t taken the hand of the tanned lizard that day as I stepped off the train at Dongducheon Station. If I had just climbed back into the carriage, met some more stable colleagues and never looked back down the rabbit hole - well who knows how bright my future may have been.

The things that happened at that first gathering will never be spoken of. A deal, some sacred pact was never made between the competitors that day. It wasn’t necessary. We knew that no man or woman would tell a soul about the things that we saw, the things that we did. After all, who would believe such madness? I survived and that's all that I hold on to.

But for months after I felt a bit like I'd escaped the hands of a madman. A killer, a psycho, a bloody nightmare. Once you’re free, are you really any less of a prisoner? Can you sleep, knowing that he may be at your window each night – waiting to attack? That’s how I had felt for 9 months. They said there would be another, a Heathensville 2011. But nobody really believed it, or they didn’t want to.

2010 competitors that, thank God
didn't make it to 2011

Then out of the blue the invites went out. Four of them, to the team captains. It was here, and there was nothing to do but face it and hope that the brave souls chosen would have the stones to come out the other end alive. For me, my team selections had been made many weeks before. I was prepared. I had been watching the drinkers around me; counting, adjudicating each performance. Speed, endurance, tolerance. I had my team secured before the rosters were even called for and I was confident.

It was just a question of our competition. I knew that this was more a contest of survival than performance, but was still interested to see what we were up against. We would be facing 3 other teams. Two were formidable, and one was a complete wildcard. In fact, they were called the wildcards. Thrown together at the last minute, this bunch of misfits was a veteran team’s nightmare. There was no homework to be done, no strategy to employ against them. So there wasn’t much that we could do to combat what they threw at us. We didn’t know who they were, but that made them just as dangerous as the favorites. And as far as favorites go, there was only one squad. They were called the Dong team, and they had everything in their favor - home ground advantage, corrupt officials that were self-appointed from within their ranks and lastly, a rich wealth of experience. The bulk of their team had been present at the first SH and had lived to tell the tale, which was impressive. They had also been training with the regulation sized apparatus, talking smack and forming secret alliances with the other teams for weeks. They posed a challenge.

 The other team was heard before they were seen. The audacity to call themselves Team America placed them squarely in the cross-hairs of other groups, and they were immediately despised. Finally there was us - competing under the same banner as the year before – The Stragglers. This was done as a tribute to our fallen team mates of 2010, and also to project a weaker threat to competitors. Our team was exceptionally green. Just two of us had seen a Heathensville before. But we had heart and a spirit not easily broken. And we believed. Six guys and four girls would carry the torch; a gang whose heritage could be traced all the way from Quebec to to the sleepy hollow of Grahamstown in SA. We were ready for anything.

Anything but this. 

The Temper Trap - Love Lost