Seoul, the capital city of South Korea, is an awe-inspiring, frightening, wonderful, deathly, life-changing place. I shall never be the same again after my visit there on 25 to 27 March. Never the same.
That weekend symbolises the first pay day, the first big trip to Seoul and the reunion of hundreds of Korean English teachers. It was EPIC (no pun intended)! Most of us newbies' tanks were running rather low on Won by 25 March and were desperately in need of a bank account re-fuel.
The epic trip actually began in little Pohang on the Korean east coast, about a thirty minute bus ride from where I live in Heung-hae. Hopping onto the 6:30 pm Pohang-to-Seoul bus, I had serious second thoughts about a five-hour trip after a long week at school. Five of us left from the Pohang Express Bus Terminal, beer and soju in hand to make the trip seem a little shorter. By hour three, I was so tired, I had to take a little nap. It was an incredibly bad idea as when I had to wake up, I was grumpy, cold and unhappy. I had to nudge Scotty every few minutes to keep him from drifting back into 'lala' land. When we arrived at the hostel after an hour-long subway trip after the five-hour bus trip, I was actually ready to simply curl up in bed. It was not to be, however, as the rest of Team Awesome (Claricle, Tashalicious, Kaitles, Christoffle and Hells Bells) were waiting for Scotty and I to arrive. We met the eighth member of the Seoul crew, Jo, also trying to find her way to the hostel. And our Seoul trip began properly at 1am on Saturday morning...
Frightening...South Korea has a population of approximately 49 million people. Well over 10 million of those people live in just one city: the capital, Seoul. It is a frighteningly busy place; there are people everywhere all the time. The subways are full, the streets are crowded and there is never an empty restaurant. The Pohang crowd arrived in Hong-dae, the student area where our hostel was, at 1am. When we walked out of the subway exit, there were so many people. Thanks to Claricle and her excellent map, we were able to navigate ourselves rather easily, I would have thought. Scotty was in charge of directions. If it wasn't for Tashalicious coming to find us, we'd still be wandering around Seoul at this point. Scotty was convinced we had to go the completely opposite way?
After dropping off our possessions, we were off to find somewhere to have a "quiet" drink. Everything was still open. I can see why young people want to live in this part of the country. I did no work at Rhodes and there was nothing to do there actually. In a place like Seoul, I may have fallen seriously off course.
Awe-inspiring...Despite being frighteningly busy, Seoul is also quite amazing. It is such a jacked-up place and very different to where I am living, obviously. In our short time there, we only went to two small parts of the city; Hong-dae (the student area and home of Hongik University) and the shopping haven (Myeong-dong), which has all the fashion stores. I have no knowledge of any of the following places as I cannot afford to even set foot inside any of them but us girls browsed around Zara, H&M and all the little side shops. I took a list of things I needed to buy and came home with nothing to show for it besides a straw summer hat I will probably never wear again (even though it looks quite good upon my head), a head band with a huge black flower attached (which I wear ALL the time) and some red nail polish for the nails that I bite daily! Ridiculous. The fashion of the majority of the Korean youth is rather awe-inspiring, however, and I long to learn something "fashiony" in my time here. It is definitely an area in which I lack serious talent.
Deathly...On Saturday night, after a lovely reunion party with the other teachers in Seoul, we all headed to a dance club, THE dance club in Hong-dae apparently. It was literally a deathly place. We paid some exorbitant sum to get in, only to leave straight away again. I have never been into a building where there are so many people. It was like taking part in a voluntary stampede. You did not have to move your feet at all. You were simply carried with the crowd up the stairs, men groping and kissing you from all directions. It was horrific. And definitely a fire hazard - danger zone - health and safety code red - place! In England, they would have torn that place down long ago for every kind of law infringement. It survives happily in Seoul. I am not sure how there have not been any deaths-by-stampede yet. Most of us came out from the underground hell after approximately four minutes, heaving with anger and shaking with fear. Some of the guys were actually wanting to punch anything in sight. Fortunately, we went straight back to the little bar from Friday night and all was well with the world again.
On Sunday morning, Scotty and I made our way back to the bus terminal to meet our fellow Pohangers and return to the east coast. Not looking forward to the 5 hour bus ride, we decided to have a little lunch before boarding. Stupidly, I sent Scotty to the counter to order two chicken burgers. He came back almost immediately with the purchases in hand. This was to be our second deadly experience of the weekend. It was apparently meant to be a tender grilled chicken fillet on a roll. Unfotunately, it did not seem to be grilled at all, was almost raw and had a revolting soya/kimchi/fish taste to it. Yummy. Even Mozi would not eat it! Never again shall I trust a man to order food when he is hungover and useless. Only joking Scottles!
Wonderful...My thirty or so hours in Seoul were quite wonderful. After a month in the mountains, it was like going to London for a party after caring for a grumpy English granny for 3 weeks. Absolute feedom! We had a brilliant party on both nights and it was so good to meet up with the orientation crew of English teachers again.
In the day on Saturday, we interrupted our shopping spree with a visit to Kraze burger (a Korean burger franchise, I believe?) for lunch and met up with the boys, Jo and Tashalicious who had skipped the shopping madness for a more calm exploration of the surroundings. Kraze Burger's service left a lot to be desired but their food left nothing at all. It was delicious!
We also stayed at a fantastic guesthouse called "Blu" in the Hong-dae area. As the Claricle has been year for over a year, she booked us in for the two nights and promised fluffy duvets and breakfast. We got just that. It was perfectly located and very comfortable. I actually regret not sleeping for more than 2 hours a night in that lovely bunk bed. The peanut butter and jam toast, coffee and orange juice in the morning was close to the best part!
The only "un-wonderful" moment was when I lost my favourite ring in the subway station. After a good search and a very good sulk, Kaitles was able to cheer me up by finding me a new friend. We named him Mozi and he goes everywhere with me these days; my miniature Korean mascot. After a good day's retail therapy, Kaitles, Hells Bells and I stopped at the subway station again. I asked if they had found a ring by any chance. The guard asked me what colour it was and I said it was silver. He gestured that he may have found one and reached down for what could well have been my ring. It was not though...sadness swiftly suffocated my soul again.
Life-changing...Seoul is a place never to forget. It is quite the most overwhelming experience I have had in a long time. With Team Awesome in tow, it was a truly life-changing experience too. When and if I am ever brave enough to return to Seoul, I will make sure it is a cultural trip to see more of the amazing sights and learn from what such an amazing city has to offer. It is certainly a place where dreams come true and money is spent very quickly. I can't wait for Round Two...
(All Seoul photos: by Claire Keet)
Thursday 31 March 2011
Never forget...
Sometimes, when I sit in the teachers' office in the mountains of Gyeonsangbuk-do, unable to communicate or to escape, I wonder if the world has forgotten me here in the middle of nowhere?
But then I remember a song from Stellenbosch days, a song I hold so dear. Even if everyone forgets, the memories remain with you always...
"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
Until it was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye
Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never
Been this way before
All you can do is try to know
Who your friends are
As you head off to the war
Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light
You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye
You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye
Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Until they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye..."
(Regina Spektor - musical genius)
But then I remember a song from Stellenbosch days, a song I hold so dear. Even if everyone forgets, the memories remain with you always...
"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
Until it was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye
Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never
Been this way before
All you can do is try to know
Who your friends are
As you head off to the war
Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light
You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye
You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye
Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Until they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye..."
(Regina Spektor - musical genius)
Wednesday 23 March 2011
My Epic Trip from Daejeon to Pohang, Sunday 20 March – An UNNECESSARY schlep
After a rather splendid Saturday, spent braai-ing on a rooftop with wonderful friends in Daejeon and a good party at the legendary Cocoon club, I was looking forward to a stress-free return trip to my little town, Heung-hae, just north and inland of Pohang city. As with most things in “Dynamic” Korea, this was not to be the case.
We all woke up late on Sunday morning feeling rather awful actually. It was clearly a successful South African braai, wasn't it? A friend, Helyn, was going back to Gyeonsan. Because this is "half" on the way to my city, I thought I would break the journey by going some of the way with her and then going the second half on my own.
We arrived at the train station at 2pm after the worse and longest cross-city bus ride of my entire life. It was about 90 degrees Celsius on the bus and we were wearing coats, carrying bags and pillows. There was not a centimetre of space to work with either. Apparently, everything happens on Sunday mornings in Daejeon? We didn’t know where to put our bags and everyone was looking at us really strangely (firstly because we are foreigners and secondly, because we were carrying one million items). I won’t be carrying a pillow with me ever again. It was clearly a societal failure!
It is truly ironic that the day you really feel like sitting down, you have to stand up, and you have no idea where you are going and the bus is swaying from side to side as if you were on the sea in a storm.
What we also did not bargain for was several trains being sold out or the fact that the train times would not suit our exact needs. “Oh, why,” I asked Helyn, “is that train to Pohang at 5pm and not 3pm?”
The earliest train we could catch to Gyeonsan was at 3 o’clock. To pass the time and to feed the hangover hunger, we stepped into the little “Asian food” restaurant and bought the Korean version of chicken curry and of course, rice. As a tantalising little side order, we were given…kimchi (fermented cabbage). Koreans eat this famous national dish with every meal, absolutely EVERY meal. Yum! I had to politely push mine off the tray for fear of it ruining my meal entirely.
At around 2:45, Helyn and I trundled off to the train platforms. Our tickets showed a large number 3. Naturally, we assumed we would be leaving from platform 3. We arrived at the platform at 2:55 and almost patiently waited for the train which had cost us a pretty 15 000 won (over R100) to acquire, I might add. And that was only getting me halfway home, remember?
I just had a funny feeling that we were not in the right place. I told Helyn to check with a guard closeby who shook his head violently and pointed in the opposite direction. We were, in fact, leaving from Platform 6 and had to run up some stairs, down an escalator (while squeezing past some annoyed train-catching veterans) and find our carriage number along the platform. We somehow managed to do it in exactly three minutes and arrived panting (and cursing the Korean rail system) with two minutes to spare. How we did it, I'll never know. But I sure was ecstatic! It is amazing that happiness can be so easy.
We had a rather pleasant train trip back to Gyeonsan (Helyn's hometown). Then came the subway trip, of course. I felt like I was in England again except everything was in Korean. Thanks be to goodness that Helyn had done this part of the trip before. We managed to arrive at our destination without much stress apart from the intense "cabbage" smell the entire 30 minutes. Someone on that train was NOT well inside.
After exiting the subway station, we had to navigate our way to the bus station where I would catch my bus to Pohang. At 18:20, I said a fond farewell to Hells Bells and hopped on the bus. A mere 1 hour and 40 minutes later, the bus stopped at Pohang Intercity Bus Station. What relief to be closer to home. At 20:10, I climbed onto my last form of transportation, (you guessed it...a bus) to my town of Heung-hae. In one day, I had used every available form of public transport in Korea. I suppose I should view this as a positive point?
Nevertheless, arrival time at 105 Dreamville, my apartment: 21:00. Seriously? Seven hours to travel 300km? Next time, I will most definitely be going the direct-3-hours-on-a-bus route, won't I? NO DETOURS ever again...sorry Helyn!
We all woke up late on Sunday morning feeling rather awful actually. It was clearly a successful South African braai, wasn't it? A friend, Helyn, was going back to Gyeonsan. Because this is "half" on the way to my city, I thought I would break the journey by going some of the way with her and then going the second half on my own.
We arrived at the train station at 2pm after the worse and longest cross-city bus ride of my entire life. It was about 90 degrees Celsius on the bus and we were wearing coats, carrying bags and pillows. There was not a centimetre of space to work with either. Apparently, everything happens on Sunday mornings in Daejeon? We didn’t know where to put our bags and everyone was looking at us really strangely (firstly because we are foreigners and secondly, because we were carrying one million items). I won’t be carrying a pillow with me ever again. It was clearly a societal failure!
It is truly ironic that the day you really feel like sitting down, you have to stand up, and you have no idea where you are going and the bus is swaying from side to side as if you were on the sea in a storm.
What we also did not bargain for was several trains being sold out or the fact that the train times would not suit our exact needs. “Oh, why,” I asked Helyn, “is that train to Pohang at 5pm and not 3pm?”
The earliest train we could catch to Gyeonsan was at 3 o’clock. To pass the time and to feed the hangover hunger, we stepped into the little “Asian food” restaurant and bought the Korean version of chicken curry and of course, rice. As a tantalising little side order, we were given…kimchi (fermented cabbage). Koreans eat this famous national dish with every meal, absolutely EVERY meal. Yum! I had to politely push mine off the tray for fear of it ruining my meal entirely.
At around 2:45, Helyn and I trundled off to the train platforms. Our tickets showed a large number 3. Naturally, we assumed we would be leaving from platform 3. We arrived at the platform at 2:55 and almost patiently waited for the train which had cost us a pretty 15 000 won (over R100) to acquire, I might add. And that was only getting me halfway home, remember?
I just had a funny feeling that we were not in the right place. I told Helyn to check with a guard closeby who shook his head violently and pointed in the opposite direction. We were, in fact, leaving from Platform 6 and had to run up some stairs, down an escalator (while squeezing past some annoyed train-catching veterans) and find our carriage number along the platform. We somehow managed to do it in exactly three minutes and arrived panting (and cursing the Korean rail system) with two minutes to spare. How we did it, I'll never know. But I sure was ecstatic! It is amazing that happiness can be so easy.
We had a rather pleasant train trip back to Gyeonsan (Helyn's hometown). Then came the subway trip, of course. I felt like I was in England again except everything was in Korean. Thanks be to goodness that Helyn had done this part of the trip before. We managed to arrive at our destination without much stress apart from the intense "cabbage" smell the entire 30 minutes. Someone on that train was NOT well inside.
After exiting the subway station, we had to navigate our way to the bus station where I would catch my bus to Pohang. At 18:20, I said a fond farewell to Hells Bells and hopped on the bus. A mere 1 hour and 40 minutes later, the bus stopped at Pohang Intercity Bus Station. What relief to be closer to home. At 20:10, I climbed onto my last form of transportation, (you guessed it...a bus) to my town of Heung-hae. In one day, I had used every available form of public transport in Korea. I suppose I should view this as a positive point?
Nevertheless, arrival time at 105 Dreamville, my apartment: 21:00. Seriously? Seven hours to travel 300km? Next time, I will most definitely be going the direct-3-hours-on-a-bus route, won't I? NO DETOURS ever again...sorry Helyn!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)