I stared out at a huge fleet of Korean Air planes. Their tails are decorated with what looks like a Pepsi Cola logo. Huge cans of pop in the air. As soon as I walked into the terminal I had this odd sense of insanely, immaculate, clean. I stood in line at customs and noticed an ocean full of Asians staring at me. Perfectly dressed Japanese and Korean woman holding their passports and Louis Vouitton clutches. I had to wait about thirty minutes in line but was entertained by Samsung plasma televisions hanging over the counter. I picked up my luggage in a flash and headed out the sliding doors to buy a bus ticket to the City Air Terminal at COEX mall.
The bus zoomed along a 24 lane wide highway. I felt like I was somewhere in the future as the highways crossed over each other like Snakes and Ladders. We drove along the Han river which runs directly through the city. The bus slowed and we spent an hour or so in bumper to bumper traffic. Little men wearing masks sold seafood and crackers in the middle of the highway. The sun had set and the city lights were now twinkling over the river. My eyes were suddenly feeling very heavy. Our bus sped up again and I looked over my shoulder to see why the traffic has slowed so much. Low and behold, the highway was sluggish because so many vehicles were trying to veer off the highway into a huge driving range golf complex. I soon found myself staring out my window in the middle of the hectic streets of Seoul. Cars shooting across the street like bullets followed by the sweet sound of not-so-intimidating honks. The main street was a staggering twelve lanes wide. At each traffic light intersection police with whistles and batons organize which cars can move when in order to prevent collisions.
I jumped off the bus and waited about twenty minutes for a taxi to arrive. The taxi drove at a snails pace four blocks to my accommodations at Seoul Residence. I hopped out of the taxi and checked into my room. I would soon be experiencing the frustrations of culture shock (mind you I was very proud of my retained sense of calm while driving through the city).
I dragged all of my bags into the elevator and hit the button for the 8th floor. I arrived on the 12th floor. I walked around the 12th floor soon realizing it was not the 8th floor. I cursed while pulling my bags once again into the elevator. I stood in the elevator staring up at a commercial reel which played off a plasma screen in the corner. Everything is automated here. As the elevator reached the 8th floor a little chime went off and the voice of a Korean woman said, “get off the elevator you stupid Canadian.” My hotel room was at the very end of the hall. My palms were burning from having to drag my bags to my room. I couldn’t figure out how to use my door key. I stopped to breath, cursed and then crossed my fingers.
I opened up the door and my jaw dropped. This is the nicest hotel room I have ever set foot in. A set of slippers sat on the entrance step and I could stare out at the skyscrapers outside my windows. I rushed around the room checking everything out. I had a cute little kitchen, television, couch and double bed. I ripped my bags open and ran into the shower. I spent thirty minutes cursing at the shower head. For the life of me I could not figure out how to turn the hot water on. I could not believe my shower had an LCD touch pad screen. You’d think technology would make showering easier. I ran around my apartment wearing nothing but slippers. I finally found a small note on the wall which read, “how to turn water hot on.” I pressed the button and ran back into the shower. Moments later I was standing like a zombie under steaming water. I toweled down and felt so refreshed and awake. I found a little screen which I suspected was a television. There were no instructions and all of the buttons were labeled in Korean. I pressed the largest button (which is always the power button right?) An outrageously loud siren went off in my room. My heart went into panic mode and I started freaking out. I could not get this alarm to turn off for the life of me. I soon heard a knock at the door. The front desk man was there smiling at me. He walked over to the screen and said “camera of security.” I thought, “oh, right.” So this wasn’t a tiny little television it was actually a security camera.
At this point I was scared to touch anything. I turned my laptop on and fiddled on the internet for a while before preparing for bed at 9pm. I was shocked that I had managed to stay awake so long. I prayed to God that I would not wake up feeling jetlagged. I hopped out of bed to turn off the lights in my room. I cursed at the walls, the windows and the floors as I could not for the life of me figure out how to turn them all off. I realized later that the front entrance lights have sensors which turn off as soon as you walk away from the door. The light switches were all at the front entrance. So, as you can imagine, I stood punching the light switches with my fingers for about thirty minutes entirely unable to turn off the light at the entrance as I would need to leave that area for the sensors to turn off. I refused to phone the front desk to ask them to “turn my lights off for me.” I gave up and crawled into bed. A moment later the lights at the door switched off and the room went black. I rolled over and stared out at the twinkling city lights outside my window. I gave a great sigh and was overwhelmed by loneliness. This city would be my new home for the next year. I let out a cry and wrapped myself in blankets while orienting my body into the fetal position. I had been through a lot in the last 24 hours and I was pleased when my body finally decided to allow me to sleep.
My first morning in Korea were “Lost in Translation” cliché film experiences. I hobbled over my bed and pulled open the curtains. I crawled back into bed and cuddled under the comforter with my knees under my chin staring out at the massive city which stood before me. I rubbed my eyes, counting in my head how many times I had woken up throughout the night. I finally decided on three separate distinct occasions: three, five and eight in the morning. In and out of sleep I suppose. Everything still felt unreal. I hopped into the shower, making sure to slip on my little bathroom slippers before entering.
I took the elevator to level two and indulged in my complimentary breakfast. I had no clue what to expect. I entered the room and dropped my breakfast ticket into an antique green glass bowl. I was greeted by a cute little Korean woman who cracked an egg as soon as I returned her smile. I sipped a hot mug of coffee and nibbled on sliced apple and banana, fried egg, sausage and hashbrowns. Something about this breakfast didn’t seem entirely Asian to me. The room filled with Asian businessman who silently ate their morning meal. I could hear the unsettling lyricism of Korean Opera over the speakers as I finished off my plate. I sat back and finished off my coffee while debating what to do for the day. Suddenly the room was quiet and my eyes bulged as I could feel a rather boisterous burp formulating in my gut. I clenched my teeth as a prolonged, loud, embarrassing burp passed through the cracks of my teeth. The business men looked up and I just nervously nodded my head at them diligently.
I headed back upstairs to my room and threw the curtain apart filling my room with an incredible sun filled energy. I blasted iTunes and pulled apart an ironing board and started pressing my pants and dress shirts. I danced around the room as I hung my freshly pressed cloths one by one in my closet. I rang my friend Jamie Kerr who I graduated from University of Guelph with and grabbed a few essential accessories before bolting out the door. This was my first venture outside of the hotel and my face lit up as I walked into the sun lit streets. I walked to Seollung station and stared at the insanely busy intersection. Jamie careened over in his moped and I was soon sitting on the back of his motorbike zipping through the traffic. I have to admit I have never been on a motorcycle and I had previously told myself I would never be dumb enough to get on one. Alas, I can never keep promises. I was barely hanging onto anything as we lurched in between cars and buses. I was freezing and my eyes started to tear as we sped past a park full of autumn coloured leaves. Jamie gave me a quick tour of his apartment before we left with his girlfriend Erin for the subway station.
The Seoul Subway network is beyond huge. Thankfully it isn’t too confusing. All stations are written in Korean and English. They also call out both languages over the speaker system in the train car. As we waited for the next train they told me to look up at the brightly lit screen on the platform. On the bottom of the screen a red and green train slowly moves from left to right. When the little cartoon train is at the middle of the screen your subway is at the stop just before your station. As the lit up train finally reached the right side of the screen I could hear the actual subway speed in front of us (I always close my eyes when subways fly by as the wind is always a bit magical and can only be appreciated when your lids are sealed). We arrived at our destination, Namdaemun Market. This market is the most traditional outdoor Asian market in Seoul. The streets were filled with giant bottles filled with bright yellow ginseng root (which sort of eerily looked like jars holding a human fetus). We walked past many traditional Korean street food vendors who grilled greasy kabobs of meat and seared squid. The market bustles with busy shoppers at night. As the day suddenly became night I excitedly walked around miles upon miles of knock off designer purses, scarves, wallets and clothing.
We ran into a typical little Korean restaurant and sat down on tacky plastic chairs. This would be my official first Korean meal. We ordered a plate of wong man du which are bread dumplings filled with pork and tofu. I sopped the soggy bread with chili, rice vinegar and soy sauce. I ordered a meal which will most certainly be consumed several hundred times in the next twelve months as it is THE Korean dish above all dishes. Sitting in a stone bowl directly in front of me sat a crackling dish of Bi bim bap. I was rather excited about what sat in front of me. At the bottom of the bowl you will find a layer of steamed Korean rice covered in hot spicy red bean sauce. The top of the rice is decorated with little sections of vegetable and grilled beef. It looked something like an edible colour wheel. Sitting on the top of this little culinary masterpiece is a simple fried egg. The rules of the bi bim bap game insist that you grab your chopsticks and attack the bowl. One is not allowed to eat any of the bowls contents until everything is properly destroyed. I first attacked the yolk and tossed it amongst the beef and sprouts. I then pulled chunks of rice from the bottom of the bowl to the top and in a few minutes my bowl was looking chaotic. It was now fit to eat.
It started to pour rain outside so we ran to the subway station and headed back to Jamie’s apartment building. We stopped off at one of the many 7/11 convenience stores on the street for some evening drinkables. Jamie and I stood in front of the fridge doors and I listened intently as he pointed his umbrella at each of the various beverages. I purchased a bottle of St. Emillion Cabernet Sauvignon and sipped it in the apartment as we all dried off for a few hours.
We dragged ourselves off the couch and walked behind the building to their favorite Korean BBQ spot. My face lit up as we opened the door and looked into the room. The entire room was full of low rise tables with families huddled over many side dishes. We all took our shoes off at the front door and walked across the dining room to the back corner. I sat down on two cushions and tried to find a comfortable position. Dinner cost around nine dollars each. It would have been twice that if we had ordered Korean beef. American beef is half the price here (they are a bit snobbish and believe their beef is superior). I noticed no difference and my pocket enjoyed the savings. Each table is outfitted with a small wooden button. Whenever you need service during the meal you can simply press the button and your server comes rushing to your side. I enjoy this standard in service. I also love buttons. A few minutes after ordering our server came rushing over to our table with a huge platter of beef. Erin grabbed the cooking scissors and started cutting up the meat as we placed onions, garlic and oyster mushrooms onto the grill. I fell in love with a little bowl of sweet red bean and chili paste which I slathered on everything. I nibbled on silver coloured rice, one grain at a time. Always making sure to have a gulp of beer after each perfectly grilled steak morsel. After feeling entirely exhausted, full and delightful Jamie and I hopped back on his moped.
The city was entirely empty. The streets, which are usually at a stand still seemed somewhat like a dried up river. We zipped down the street, I tried to hold on, hold back my tears and avoid freezing to death. I had officially been awake from 8am until the current hour, just past midnight. Looks like Andrew Dobson is immune to jet lag.
The following morning I walked down the main street near my hotel to the Hyundai Department store. This huge complex is the Korean version of London’s Herrod’s, Toronto’s Holt Renfrew and New York’s Sax Fifth Avenue. The entrance to the store currently has a giant Christmas tree and nutcracker display rotating in the front windows. The first floor is home to Prada, Gucci, Channel and every perfume you can imagine. I walked up to the next level and found myself walking on heated marble floors past Marc Jacobs, Coach and Louis Vuitton. I walked into each store to an immediate response by the staff. Each store has a fleet of well dressed Asian models who run over to you as soon as they realize you are white and ask if you need anything. I was given a Gucci magazine and several other free trinkets. I headed for the escalator and couldn’t help but notice every person turn their head as I walked by. It’s a bit of an odd feeling, to know you are being stared at simply because of your ethnicity. Perhaps they just think I’m gorgeous. Actually, that’s probably it. Completely understandable then.
The basement of the store is by far my favorite experience in Korea to date. The gloriousness of their grocery store can not properly be put into words. At the end of each aisle you will find an employee serving up some form of edible sample. Melons wrapped in gold paper with a bow attached to the stem, individually wrapped Gala apples for a measly seven dollars each, oranges in the shape of a heart. I was totally flabbergasted. I continued down the aisle and walked into the fresh seafood area which featured huge tanks of shellfish which you can scoop into plastic bags with a ladle. Raw fish and sliced meats are organized like pieces of art on blocks of ice. This particular grocery store had a specialty foods section. I gawked at little jars of Jiff Peanut Butter (my families favorite) for ten dollars, forty dollar tiny bottles of balsamic vinegar and little Toblerone chocolates from Switzerland. I clearly could not afford any of this food. As I walked out of the store I realized I probably had more fun there then I could have had at Disneyland.
The other half of the basement is jam packed full of high end food stores. I walked past a wine importer who was selling several bottles of French Bordeaux for unreasonable prices. Note: The 7/11 stores in Korea have a contract with Yellowtail Australian wines so you can buy them affordably at the convenience store. I walked past hand made Korean toffee makers, a French Bakery and Cheesecake boutique. Everything is hand rolled, hand wrapped and hand stamped. One little shop had a line of about ten woman rolling little doughnuts which would soon be deep fried and sprinkled with sugar. In the back of the department store I found the food court which offered a wide selection of Korean dishes and featured a central rotating sushi bar. I walked back into the crisp wind on the street and could not help but revel in the awesomeness of Hyundai. I figure I will pop back once a month simply to not spend but stare in wonderment.
I spent the afternoon and evening with Jamie and Erin. We took a bus to Itaewon for a bit of Christmas shopping. Itaewon is the international district where you will find more foreigners than locals. It is the designated tourist area so all of the Korean vendors speak English. Much of this is due to the fact that the American Army base is located just a mile or so from here. The streets are covered in fake designer belts, socks, scarves, purses and jackets. On every corner there are men selling pirated dvd’s for two dollars a pop. There are several huge vintage stores which you could spend days sifting through. This is also the place for businessman to eat their hearts out. You can buy three silk ties for ten dollars. A huge selection to choose from mind you. Walking down the street we were asked if we wanted a tailored suit by about ten different men. You can have a tailored suit made for anywhere from $70-300 dollars. The shops have fashion magazines with various styles, walls covered in suit and dress shirt fabric. A custom tailored dress shirt is about fifty dollars here. I cannot wait to splurge on formal wear (especially as a short stubby individual, tailored has a rather lovely ring to it).
After a long day of shopping we walked around the backstreets of Itaewon where Seoul’s best international restaurants serve up their culinary delights. We decided on a little restaurant called My Thai. The waiters were gorgeous, the room full of lotus flowers, red mood lighting and a huge seated Buddha stared at me. I ordered a plate of pork fried rice which was amazingly fragrant, salty and crunchy. I jumped from my rice dish to my huge bowl of tom kar gai (coconut soup with chicken). The soup for some reason made my mouth burn like a furnace. Soup, rice, soup, breath, gargle water, repeat. We all hopped into a cab and Jamie impressed me with his ability to direct the cabby in Korean. They hopped out of the cab and I continued by myself to Seoul Residence. I paid the cab driver, opened my door, lay on my bed, rolled over and stared at the Seoul skyline. Tomorrow was my first day of teacher training. What would end up being a week long bootcamp. Oh Lordy, shock me shock me!
