I took the subway into the city today. It was grey and overcast – lovely. I listened to my mp3 player, and watched people. I’d love to go around taking pictures of people, but it doesn’t seem very polite to do so without asking, and my shyness, compounded with linguistic and cultural issues, prevents me from asking people. So… here are some verbal snapshots from the Seoul Metro.
1. The train isn’t very crowded. The bench seat across from me is full, however. Each bench seat, lining the wall between each set of doors on each side of the standard subway carriage, seats seven people. Six of the seven across from me are watching television on their cell phones, absorbed and in weirdly parallel poses: a disheveled-looking and too-skinny young man with a pink tie, watching tv; a woman with one of those bangs-to-eyebrows anime-inspired haircuts, and deep brown liquid eyes, watching tv; another woman, older, with permed hair and a floral pattern dress, watching tv; a man in “exercise clothes” – not sure how to describe, but all the fashion these days here – slick sweatpants, sneakers, a windbreaker, black “gilligan” cap, watching tv; a school-age kid, glasses, with his cell phone down between his legs – the odd man out, since, instead of watching tv, he appears to be playing a game of some kind; two girls, one in a pink sweater with little hearts on it, the other in a sweater with brown and black stripes, apparently comparing notes on the show they’re each watching, as one drapes her arm tenderly on the shoulder of the other; a woman with long hair in “church clothes” and a rather large crucifix hanging around her neck, watching tv. The train rocks around the bend after Wondang-yeok, and, since it runs aboveground along there, there’s a nice tableau behind these symmetrically posed people of the green hills of the suburban landscape, interspersed with 8-lane streets, winding country lanes, vegetable stands and an uncountable number of cleverly-named convenience stores. On my mp3 player, Silvio Rodriguez sings about the Allende years in Chile.
2. Sometime later, the same bench across from me has changed character. Two people are sleeping. A girl is sitting on the lap of her boyfriend, the train is more crowded. The same limpid-eyed woman is there, but now she’s reading a book – I can’t make out the title (nor could I necessarily decipher it, if I could). The man next her is reading over her shoulder, more avidly than the woman herself, who glances up with great regularity, as if in thought or distraction. A man standing in the aisle is staring at my shirt, which says: “mi taku oyasin” – I’m always in favor of presenting linguistic enigmas to those around me, and I brought this old t-shirt with me to Korea knowing it would be a one-of-a-kind item. “Mi taku oyasin” is a proverb in the Lakota dialect of the Sioux indian language, and translates roughly as “we are all in the same family.” I wonder what the man is thinking. He hasn’t shaved in a while. On my mp3 player, Soft Cell is singing it’s punk anthem “Frustration:” “I am so ordinary / Frustration / I was born / One day I’ll die.”
3. I’ve changed subway lines at the Jongno3ga station, to the number 5 from the number 3. I’ve decided to go explore Yeouido today. There’s nowhere to sit on this train, it’s quite busy. A gang of young men dressed as if prepared to play football (soccer) has boarded with me. They’re roughhousing a bit and poking each other and peering at each other’s cell phones. There’s an African-looking man standing at the far end of the car, in an olive-green suit, smiling distantly. Suddenly the sound of a cat yowling fills the car, and drowns out the music in my earphones. Looking down the length of the car I see, just next to the African, an unhappy white cat is escaping from a box that a woman has placed on the overhead shelf. She’s a large woman, but not tall, and dressed, improbably, in a miniskirt and one of those fashionably torn-on-purpose red sweatshirts. The African looks amused but does nothing. The woman can’t reach her cat down from the shelf, and finally another man stands and helps her fetch the cat down and stuff it back into its box, at which point it begins to quiet again, eventually. But not before a woman sitting across from me makes a rather loud remark of apparent disgust, and, standing quickly, stalks from the car, passing through the door at the end into the next carriage. The two girls next to where the angry woman had been seated giggle, and continue to gaze down toward the fat woman and her cat-in-a-box with evident curiosity. The African looks like a handsome Buddha, smiling beautifically. On my mp3 player, Saving Jane begins singing “One Girl Revolution.”
4. I get out of the train at Yeouinaru and follow the crowds up the stairs, my ears popping at the change in elevation (the subway is quite deep here, as it has just burrowed under the river from Mapo to the Yeouido island). On my mp3 player, the Beatles begin “All the Lonely People,” which seems so relevant and appropriate it sends shivers up my spine. I stand on the long escalator, watching the masses in slow motion. There are two Indian gentlemen in front of me on the escalator chatting in very soft tones, and climbing the stairs next to me is a trio of American-looking tourists, probably heading for the “63” building (the tallest building in Korea). I was thinking of going there myself, to try out the observation lounge at the top, but as I climb the last set of steps myself, I see that it has begun to drizzle, and I think about when I was climbing steps on pyramids at Teotihuacan, not so long ago. A lot of steps. Catching my breath. I come out next to the park on the south bank of the Han River on Yeouido island, and suddenly recognize the locale where the movie “The Host” filmed the first emergence of the monster from the river. That was a pretty funny movie – a female Olympic archery champion hunting the giant mutant monster through the Seoul sewers and desolate industrial neighborhoods along the river, after the creature has kidnapped her younger sister, who meanwhile, in her disheveled classic schoolgirl uniform, pluckily saves a fellow victim, a little boy, from the monster’s apparent wrath. The Beatles fade from my mp3 player and are replaced by Beck’s “Loser.”
I walk along the river in the rain.
Seoul Subway Map.
Category: Life in Korea
Caveat: “맥주 잔 좀 보여주세요”
My cell phone has a rather charming animated cat living in it. It also has a Hangugeo/English dictionary, a subway map, a recording device, two cameras (one facing me and one facing “out”), tools for taking notes… it’s pretty cool. Not to mention a web browser (though this is a bit expensive to use).
It also has a “Korean phrase of the day” feature, which I quote above. Apparently (and allegedly?), this phrase means “I would like to see some beer tankards.” And thus, indeed, I have never felt more equipped to deal with the linguistic and cultural challenges which face me here!
Kind of a lazy Saturday, I confess. My ambition to go into Seoul is to be unfulfilled, I suspect – maybe tomorrow? I know I’ve promised postcards to many, and have as yet sent none. I’m a lousy tourist, in some ways, I know. Sigh?
Caveat: Life in Sim City
I have been coming to realize that I live in Sim City. For those who may not know, Sim City is a computer game where you pretend to be a city planner/administrator, which requires you to keep your residents happy by providing appropriately designed neighborhoods, with stores, public services, parks, etc.
Ilsan-gu has a lot of the characteristics that Sim City cities tend to have: it's very regular, highly planned, architecturally bland, yet full of activities and busy ant-like residents. I went on a long walk yesterday north to the "old" part of Ilsan, near the railroad station, and the contrast is notable. Most of Ilsan, especially in the areas around where I live and work, is a highly predictable grid of blocks (if not entirely square). Each block is about half a kilometer on a side – much larger than a typical city block. It is penetrated by a maze of access roads
and pedestrian pathways lined with lovely trees and public art and small plazas and playgrounds. Each block has a litter of high-rise apartment buildings, a la Le Corbusier, and if they were broken down and crime-ridden they'd resemble the public housing projects built in so many US cities or the banlieux of Paris – but they don't, because socio-economically, they're upper-middle class. More like super-high-density gated communities.
Along the major avenues are high rise commercial spaces, lined with massive quantities of neon signs and brightly colored billboards and signs. Each block has a school, all look exactly the same – like Sim City. Every 4th block has a post office. Every 10th block has a police station, fire station, etc. The grid is somewhat crooked, and there are hills poking through here and there, destroying the regularity. And different areas have different feels to them: my neighborhood, Ilsandong-gu, is more manhattany, with little greenery and lots of malls and commercial buildings, while the area around the school to the north and west is more like a university campus, long pedestrian paths through park-like areas, with identical-looking towering apartments. But the Sim City effect is eerie.
Yesterday, I crossed the railroad tracks into old Ilsan-dong. It was so different. The streets stop being straight. The sidewalks disappear. Much older, one-storey houses (often with parts converted into small businesses) line the streets, and parking patterns dissolve into chaos. It's not necessarily poorer, I don't think, but the less prosperous aspects are more visible – the broken washing machine sitting out on the sidewalk, the plastic tarpulin forming part of someone's roof.
It was grey and drizzling and quite beautiful.
Caveat: Sightings
Certain small things are common here that, from the perspective of American culture might seem quite odd. Meaning in terms of behavior and practices.
One thing I've seen, more than once, is the well-dressed businessman – slacks, suit jacket, maybe even tie – standing on a corner, hailing a cab or talking on his cellphone… but wearing flip flops on his feet. I think this is related to the fact that most Koreans take their shoes off upon entering people's homes, and even in some businesses, such as very traditional restaurants. So people give up the pretense of wearing nice shoes, and just stroll about with socks and flip flop sandals on.
Another thing that I've seen, more than once, is a child walking alone down the street – say, 7 or 8 years old – well after dark, with an umbrella swinging from one hand and a talking on a cell phone laconically, looking for all the world like a world-weary adult heading home from a stressful job. It's a bit disorienting, given how protective we are in the US of children – but of course the streets are likely much safer here. And, on the other hand, although children seem in some ways less world-wise here, they are often well-trusted and expected to behave in remarkably adult-like ways, in others.
Caveat: Fall
Thursday was windy and rainy, but there was an unexpected coolness to the air, and the wind was from the northwest. It tasted of fall, for the first time, I thought. Friday was partly clear and breezy, and the humidity had dropped substantially. I keep looking for changing tree colors, but I think that happens later here than in Minnesota.
I went into Seoul yesterday, and walked around. I really love this city, I’ve decided. An infinite collection of neighborhoods. I started walking at Gyeongbokgang, the old palace at the north end of the old city, where the kings ruled during the golden age of Korean civilization in the 1400s. Seoul was founded to be a new capital in the 1300s, and this palace was the first and largest built, though later dynasties and regencies moved to other palaces.
I ended up walking all the way to Itaewon, the touristy area east of Yongsan, which is the old military base used by the Japanese during their occupation/colonization and subsequently by the Americans. Slowly, pieces of real estate have been repatriated, so the base is much smaller than it was even when I was here in 91 – for one thing, the golf course was given back and turned into a park. But the base is still huge, and the long walls topped with concertina wire are eerie in the midst of the bustling city. The base has often been a point of contention, and the intention is to eventually repatriate all of it and have the American Forces Korea headquarted elsewhere. It seems a recurring imperial pattern of the Americans, not really in keeping with the stated objectives of milatary operation, that our army often makes the former rulers’ palaces and bases into their headquarters – think of the Green Zone in Baghdad. And I doubt it is ever a very smart idea – leads to unnecessary resentments among the people being “assisted.”
I saw the war memorial. I think this is new… I don’t remember it at all. It’s quite monolithic, and saw the Namsan tower looming in the background, lighting up the night.
So Itaewon is mind-blowing. That inescapable smell of “down-range” (the old military slang for “off-base entertainment zones”): leather and food. And lots of Americans – not just off-duty soldiers, but hippies and tourists too. Stores and nice restaurants. And, surprisingly, zillions of thirdworld immigrants – this was unexpected and new to me. I would hazard a guess that Koreans are a minority in the area. Especially south of the main drag, I swear it was “little Africa,” with Nigerians and Congolese and I overheard plenty of Arabic too.
The contrast of American crewcut soldiers buying trinkets from a middle-eastern-looking, long-bearded, youthful vendor in Itaewon was strange.
I was trying to find a foreign bookstore Marlene (from work) had mentioned – still shopping for a place to get my weekly fix of news and commentary magazines. I didn’t see it – might go back in today and spend less time wandering aimlessly, and more time trying to follow the directions she gave me.
Caveat: Mexican Independence
Happy Mexican Independence day. Or, really, days – the Mexicans cleverly place their anniversary at midnight of September 15th (this is el grito del padre Hidalgo, in 1810), thus ensuring they have two back-to-back holidays each year, the 15th and 16th.
I've joked that one of the reasons I have always felt such a resonance with Mexican culture is because of the coincidence of el grito with my birthday. And because I'm now living on Korean Standard time, I decided that, properly speaking, I should celebrate today (16th) since that's when 21:15 Pacific time is actually occurring. Well, whatever.
To celebrate, I did a load of laundry, listened to internet radio (KCRW of Santa Monica, then the BBC News), and had some ramyeon with cabbage chopped into it. I'm actually feeling a bit under the weather, like an incipient cold or flu, so I've decided not to go off exploring or challenging myself today, but just kind of lurk hermitwise in my apateu.
Yesterday, I spent the afternoon amidst the infinite grid of globalized small-retailer capitalism that is the Myeongdong neighborhood of downtown Seoul: people watching, strolling, looking for a bookshop that would give me a fix of my favorite magazine, The Economist (but in this venture, failing). A man stopped me and asked in halting English if he could interview me – he was holding a video camera. I almost said yes, but suddenly an attack of shyness made me shake my head and decline politely. I had visions of myself as some kind of online video spectacle, the hapless foreigner abroad in Korea.
I'm trying to discipline myself and drag out my Korean textbook that I brought with me, thinking I must work on building my vocabulary and making sure I know what to do with those verbs. But I'm having a bit of a muddle with inertia, and reassure myself I have plenty of time to work on this.
Annyeonghi gaseyo.
Caveat: Unusual Things
I saw several unusual things today.
Walking to work, I saw a right-hand drive SUV. I thought maybe it was from Japan – there are auto ferries between Busan and Shimonoseki – but the car had local license plates, so who knows? perhaps just someone's eccentricity?
Then I saw a woman carrying a large bag of vegetables on her head. It took me a few moments to realize this was unusual. It might be that I'm in a very middle-class part of Korea, now, but this is not a common sight. Yet my recollection of traveling around the country back in 91 is that there were women with large bags of vegetables on their heads everywhere. So either I'm in the wrong place to see such things, or there have been radical changes in Korean bulk vegetable transport over the last 16 years.
After work it was raining hard. Fortunately, I had brought my umbrella "just in case," but even still, with the wind and rain, I was rather wet by the time I got home last night at around 11.
But, walking home, I saw a female bus driver. I actually did a double take. I remember an exchange with my dad when we were in Mexico in July about the notable absence of female bus and truck drivers there, and just the other day I'd been reflecting that the same certainly applies here. So, that was an unusual thing, too.
Finally, as I crossed the last major street on my way home last night, dodging raindrops and trundling buses (I've been wondering if there's some kind of traffic-law exemption for buses, here, given how often they run red lights and make contra-indicated right turns), I saw a new MINI and a new Beetle, both dark blue – I shouldn't be surprised, as BMW has dealer outlets here, but I haven't seen any VW dealers yet, and this was the first one of each vehicle that I'd seen here.
These are very banal "unusual" things, but I guess I'm groping for something to write about.
I love the rain – I went to sleep to the sound of the rain through the open windows of my little apateu (=apartment).
This morning, I've been reading Lucian's A True Story – I may have read this a long time ago, but I don't recall, and it was one of the "books in progress" that I threw into my small "books to take with me" pile (which my friends Mark and Amy ended up mailing to me because I couldn't fit them into my luggage, but I wish I'd managed to fit them in, as mailing books to Korea is not a discount proposition).
Lucian of Samosata is one of the most amazing writers of all time. The True Story is a veritable 2nd century work of fantasy fiction, in which he explicitly states it the only true thing he will say is that it's all untrue. My interest in Lucian goes back years, and interrelates with my work in grad school on Cervantes, who clearly was at some level familiar with works by Lucian and his late classical imitators. In tone and style, it actually reminds me most of something like Mark Twain's Letters from the Earth.
Not sure what I'm doing today. Going into Seoul today, but what to do? Want to look for some postcards and/or souvenirs for my nephews, Jameson and Dylan, and perhaps for others, too.
Caveat: Heat
It's been hot the last few days… with the monsoon clouds absent, the air gets hot and steamy, like the East Coast of the US in summer. Last night, walking home from work, the humidity was so high it congealed into fog hanging between the highrises and hovering over the boulevards.
Some people have asked what I eat, here.
Let's see… in the spirit of the rather reduced calorie intake I've been practicing the last year or so in Minnesota, I still try to eat less than I crave. It's difficult, but important to keeping my weight under control. For breakfast I have fruit – an apple or orange or peach, and maybe some bread or crackers, and one of those cold canned coffees so popular here. Right before leaving for work I have a quick meal of ramyeon (instant ramen noodles) with boricha (barley tea – an odd-tasting tea concoction served cold, kind of grows on you). I like some of the flavors of ramyeon available, including kimchi and a barley/seaweed thing I found. I always add even more hot pepper sauce than is already in the mix. My main meal is at work, as there is always lots of food around that can be eaten during break (around 5.30-6pm). Generally bibimbap (rice with bits of meat, fried egg, various veggies), or kimbap (rice wrapped in seaweed, japanese-roll style but with fragments of cucumber, spam, fruit, etc., inside). Lately, something called sundubu has grown on me quickly – a seafood and tofu soup, very spicy and lighter. One day, Diane brought some home-made american-style spaghetti that was quite tasty. Lastly, when I get home I have some fruit juice, maybe a diet coke or cold coffee, and some yogurt. Is this interesting? Not sure… but when more than one person asks, via email, I figure it's time to put into this blog thingy.
My wireless internet (wifi) that I've freeloading at my apartment has proved less reliable the last few days… perhaps they're catching on? I definitely downloaded a big chunk of updateware over the weekend with my flurry of OS reinstallations. Anyway, I'm at the school plugged into a wired internet connection with my laptop. I may have to look into buying a wifi router and setting it up at the school so I can roam here with my laptop. That would be convenient, probably worth the investment.
Caveat: Teaching
I really am glad to be teaching. Do I sound like I'm trying to convince myself? Maybe I'm at that stage where I'm asking myself, what have I gotten myself into? Really, it's cool to be teaching again, but currently feeling a bit overwhelmed – I really do want to do a good job.
So Tuesday was Gary's last day – he is/was my predecessor. Several of us teachers, along with Gary and the two directors/owners of the hagwon (academy) went out for food and drinks after work – since this is an afternoon academy, that means we were out from around 11 pm through 3 am. But Korea is definitely a night-owl culture, and many bars and restaurants and such are open very late. Social drinking is, of course, extremely pervasive, but I resisted the suggestions of soju (korean native vodka-type stuff) or beer and stuck with saida ("cider" = really this is 7-up or something like that).
But there's nothing like seeing your coworkers get drunk for getting to know them. Ha. So, Gary was the raison d'etre of the party, and life of the party too – the life of any party, such an expansive and energetic personality. Grace is a korean-canadian, fully bilingual, and has been with the school since it's founding, 4-5 years ago. Marly, a maori new zealander who's been around for about a year, and seems quite competent at teaching and is quite friendly. Lastly, Danny and his wife Diane are the owners/founders of the academy, a korean couple who lived in south africa for some years. So they're my "bosses." I really think Gary was right, I've landed in a good spot -they seem very conscientious and dedicated to providing a quality product to their students. I met an "alum" of the school Tuesday afternoon, who was visiting but was now enrolled at the University of Chicago – that speaks pretty well for the skills and competency imbued, given the high standards and reputation of that school.
So we stayed out till about 3 am, but since work starts at 2 pm, this is not really a problem. I feel for the students, who essentially go to school from 7 am to 11 pm (with food breaks, I guess) – public school in the morning, hagwon in the afternoon. And this practice is universal. No wonder Korea kicks U.S. ass in educational statistics, right?
Yesterday Danny and I drove to an immigration office, where I had to surrender my passport in order to get an "alien card" - I've always wanted to have my alienation confirmed bureaucratically. I feel naked without the passport, but I have a little piece of paper that I use as an ID, meanwhile, and I should get the card in 2 weeks, and this will allow me to do things like get my own cell phone, bank account, DSL connection, etc – all the accouterments of modern life.
I am, by far, the "old man" here, but I felt comfortable with these people and I'm feeling optimistic.
I have approximately 13 classes, most of which meet twice a week and several meet three times a week. I'll tell more about my schedule and students later, as I get to know things – for now I'm just going to go "by the book" and follow Gary's lead (to the extent I can make sense of his notes – heh) and Danny and Diane's curricula.
Given the quantities of free food on offer at work, and the fact that my rent is paid for, I can already tell that I'm going to be hard put to spend my earnings here – but that's good, I guess.
One piece of disappointing news: my vacation schedule is such that I probably won't be able to take any long excursions out of Korea – the 2 weeks are distributed across the calendar and there's not a lot of flexibility. So I guess people will have to come visit me, instead. I will have weekends free, regardless, and South Korea is small enough that you can see most any part of it in a weekend. But the slow boat to China, traipsing off to Darwin and points south, and other adventures will have to wait, it seems.
Caveat: Tuesday Morning
A few blocks south of here there is a large park with a Lake in it. Everyone seems to call it the Lake Park – I’m not sure if this an official name or not. I walked down there this morning, and there’s a nice little pedestrian bridge that gives some good views of the area. Below are 5 photos all taken from basically the same exact spot standing on this pedestrian bridge connecting the Ilsan neighborhood to this large park.
Looking east (well, kinda east-north-east, I think) there’s this weird looking bit of public art on the large plaza on the north side of the boulevard between Ilsan and the park.
Looking north you can see the Homever store I mentioned (a Walmarty sorta place), and the little Jeongbalsan hill. My apartment building is a few blocks behind the Homever store, and the subway station is a few blocks toward the little hill.
Looking northwest, North Korea is only about 20 km thataway – after you go through Munsan on highway 1, which is where I was stationed in the US Army.
Looking southwest, toward the Han River and then Incheon (which is where the international airport is, about 25 km), and then the West Sea (also called Yellow Sea) and, much beyond, Qingdao and Shanghai.
Looking southeast, toward downtown Seoul (about 25 km) – it’s city all the way.
In other news, I am coming to the stunning realization that most Koreans don’t know the names of their streets, and don’t particularly care – they often don’t put signs, they don’t put the names on maps, etc.. This is difficult for someone like me, who has always loved being able to study a map and then navegate around on this basis, and it’s surprising to me that it’s taken me so long to realize this. Regardless, it leads to an interesting, networked-node sort of view of the world, an interconnected web of buildings and landmarks on nodes, with unnamed spaces connecting them. I’ll get the hang of it, but getting directions is, well… interesting.
Caveat: A tough act to follow
Location: Ilsan-gu
Soundtrack: crickets, and morning city noise
The teacher whom I'm replacing is named Gary. He's a very energetic, dynamic guy from Yorkshire. I get to spend the next two days watching and working with him before he leaves, so there's an overlap to provide some transition for the students and for me. There are two cohorts of students – a Monday/Wednesday/Friday group and a Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday group, each subdivided into classes based on age and relative mastery of English – so two days of overlap provides at least one day of time with both teachers for each of the classes I'll be doing.
Abilities range from lower level "elementary" students to quite advanced "middle school" students. I put the quotes as I think the terms aren't quite applicable as we would conceive them in the U.S. – the "elementary" are what I would think of a "middle school" – age 10 to 13 roughly, while "middle school" are more like high schoolers – age 13-16. The oldest student is 17 I think. The whole thing is compounded by the fact that Koreans are all 1 year "older," because they count the day of one's birth as the "first" birthday, and when they report their age to you, you never know whether they're subtracting that extra year because they know that we calculate from zero, or if they've forgotten and are doing a straight translation.
The advanced students are quite advanced – perfectly capable of having complex conversations on just about any topic, and toward the end of the evening Gary and I found ourselves enmeshed in a "discussion" (with the "T2" group) of Edgar Allan Poe's "Annabel Lee" that would do a group of American college freshmen credit. I put "discussion" in quotes as the whole classroom structure is, nevertheless, much more teacher-centered than I'm used to from the states – more "question and answer" than discussion. And no doubt some of this I'll just have to adapt to, but other aspects I may begin to try to change as I get settled into the academy.
Gary and I walked down to a Dunkin Donuts (yes, they have those) on break and got some coffee. He told me I had been very lucky, as I had landed in the best hagwon ("after-school academy") in Ilsan (and there are apparently 100's, many of which he's taught in over the last 6 years. 6 years! Anyway, of course I asked "so why are you leaving?" and he explained that he and his wife are moving to southern Seoul (she's soon having a baby) and that the commute out to Ilsan would just be too much. It's pretty clear that he's on great terms with the other staff members of the school and he said Danny (the director) is quite professional.
Most notably (in my opinion) he's on amazing terms with the students. After we finished that last class of the evening we walked out into the hall and all the more advanced students were lining the hall to say "goodbye." Many of them had cut out fat "tear drops" of blue paper and glued them to their cheeks ("see, we're crying because you're leaving" they explained), and they presented Gary with these large posters which everyone had signed with little paragraphs or anecdotes written with them, sort of the way kids sign yearbooks for each other in the U.S. None of the staff were aware the students had prepared this "farewell party" for Gary. I was touched and impressed by their degree of devotion to this guy.
He will be a tough act to follow.
The picture above shows my building, Urim Bobo County I. Within blocks there is a McDonalds, a Burger King across the street from the McDonalds, a Starbucks, a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf franchise across the street from the Starbucks, a Homever (this is, roughly, a Carrefour store – and Carrefour is just French for Wal-Mart). All amazingly high density. But so far, I haven't even eaten in a restaurant (at 3 days, probably already some kind of record for me, at least when being abroad) – I've bought food (yogurt, ramyeon, fruit) and eaten in my little apartment, and there's also apparently a lot of free food flying around the school, too – last night I had some cold Bibimbap for dinner (my favorite Korean staple). I have gone to the Homever store to get some houseold supplies and to be able to shop for food without overstretching my almost non-existent vocabulary.
Ok, well… day 3 begins now. More later.
Caveat: Korea
Location: 경기도 일산구 (Ilsan-gu, Gyeonggi-do)
Soundtrack: mostly sounds of crickets, cicadas, citysounds
I really meant to post more, sooner. I am entering my 2nd day here in Korea. I start my teaching job later this morning. Right now it’s 3 am and I’m unable to sleep, due to the confusion induced by the time-zone change. But I’ll adjust.
Last week was very hectic, in Minneapolis, getting packed up and all my stuff moved from my apartment to the storage unit I’ve rented in Eagan (near the airport). I got checked out of my apartment on Thursday afternoon, and Friday morning I was on my way, Minneapolis to Chicago and direct from there to Incheon – a 14 hour flight and a 14 hour time difference meant 28 hours in a suspended state of intraplanetary teleportation.
I slept a little on the plane, but never do much. I watched two movies – from the Korean movie channel on the plane, to get myself in the right frame of mind. They were actually very good movies: “Highway Star” (Bokmyeon dalho) and “Miracle on 1st street” (1Beonga-ui gijeok). Subtitles in English, so I wasn’t completely lost. If you want to get a taste of contemporary Koreana these would be excellent choices, I think.
The flight arrived at Incheon almost 40 minutes earlier than scheduled, and by 5 pm local time on Saturday night I was through immigration and customs and boarding a bus for Ilsan. I rented a temporary cellphone and was thus able to connect with my contact from my new job, who met me at a bus stop just west of Madu Station in Ilsan-gu and drove me from there several blocks to my apartment.
It’s just a little studio, hotel-room-sized, but with a kitchenette. And even has a washing machine. It’s in a highrise apartment building called Urim Bobo County. I have no idea what they mean by this – bobo means, roughly, bourgeois, but without any negative connotations. And “county” seems to imply a pleasant suburban living environment – it’s a transliteration of the English word, not the Korean word that means “county”. Overall, I expect the intended effect is like the infinite number of apartment complexes in the U.S. with names like “Park View Terrace” or whatever. Basically meaningless, but meant to evoke a kind of suburban arcadia.
But, unlike suburbs in the U.S., Korean suburbs (and postwar urbanization patterns in general) are overwhelmingly high-density – thus this suburban community (45 minutes by train northwest of Seoul) feels more like Manhattan than like any socio-economically equivalent American suburb, e.g. Thousand Oaks in L.A. or Burnsville in Twin Cities.
This picture (above) shows the main street a block north of my apartment, and the fire station that will be my landmark for finding the place. The school is northwest, about a 20 minute walk – I wasn’t able to find it yesterday, walking around exploring, but I did find a nice park with a little hill in it, called Jeongbalsan (which is also the name of my rail station), and I had a strange moment when the pine forest smell and the humid, red, sandy soil evoked memories of marching through Korean woods on infantry exercises when I was stationed here in the U.S. Army all those years ago. Smells are weird that way, so evocative.
Above is a picture of the big buildings peeking through the trees of the park.
Anyway, I’ve been trying to get a lot of sleep since I arrived, so as to at least be well rested if not quite on schedule when I go into work later today.
In computer news… I am trying to get my Linux installation to allow me to type Hangul (Korean writing system). I’m having some frustrations, but I can kind of get it to work through a bit of kludge at the moment, by typing in the one application I can get it to work in (gedit, the opensource equivalent to something like Wordpad under Windows) and then cut-n-pasting into the destination (e.g. Firefox browser, where I write this blog), hence: 정발산 (=jeongbalsan).
