I Got Seoul But I’m Not a Soldier

I don’t regret not moving to Seoul. Though it is cooler by far. So cool in fact, that I doubt I would have the strength to resist spending all my money on cool paper nicknacks and vintage toys and hand made T shirts and import beers in sketchy indie rock bars.

You know in Pinnochio, when Lampwick takes him to Pleasure Island? And there are no adults and everyone smokes cigars and breaks chairs and what. Seoul felt just a little like that. All the kids that ran away from home to live on there own in the big city. Actually many of them are going to the Universities (which are the most prestigious in the country, or so they say). Most kids in Korea don’t experience that kind of freedom though. Of living on their own. They live with their parents throughout college, through early adulthood, until they get married. Then they move in with their spouse and start their own family. They never get to experience the reckless freedom of solitude (that staple of youth). Perhaps that accounts for much of the conservativism and safety of this society. Mostly though, Seoul was fun. Not dangerous or debaucherous (though I’m sure there is plenty going around), just earnestly fun. The way a good lomo photo makes you feel. A little dirty, a little careless, and a little magic.



It rained the whole time we were at the DMZ. A constant light drizzle under hazy grey skies. Rather appropriate I suppose. Last night I dreamed I visited North Korea. I saw a lot of giant space age highways with toy cars driving on them. Great towers reaching to the sky with no one in them.

Day 0 in Korea: Arrive without Warning

I meant to give some warning. A pre-departure letter. An explanation. A description of those last thoughts. A list of the last foods, people, and places i'll see for a year. but as life an laziness would have it, i ran out of time. i also ran out of time to redesign this page. one day.

the wonderful thing about travel is that i could already write a novella on all the little things that have happened to me, about me, and its only been one day. i've only just arrived. it's only just begun. this is the introduction. no not even. this is the prologue.

the packing, the agonizing over what to bring and what to leave behind, the goodbyes, the rounds of hugs, the 70 pound suitcase, (1) the little chinese man on the flight, the korean girl from tcu, the unexpected joy of borrowing a stranger's cell phone (twice), the seven sneezes immediately after breathing the air, (2) arriving at the lotte hotel, (4) sam lee, (3) arriving at the samsung motel, $2 dinner.

(1) I sat beside a little chinese man. i didn't know he was chinese at the time, i assumed he was korean like everyone else on the flight besides me and a couple military boys. i was contemplating trying to gleen some useful phrases from him. it was after all a 15 hour flight, it might help to make a friend. i was about to start watching monty python on my ipod, when the little man reached out and handed me one of the orange gummies he was eating. i thanked him and ate it. smiling more out of appreciation than enjoyment. this act, i soon realized, was a contract, now it was my turn to pay him back. he pointed to the little seafoam green pouch they had handed out. and pointed to his plastic grocery bag containing his candies. speaking in a very very foreign tongue. i think he was asking if he could keep it, so i nodded. 'it's free' i said.



that's how our clumsy and amusing 15 hour friendship began. by the time we landed, we had written each other illegible notes (does anyone out there read chinese?), exchanged small gifts (jelly beans, an album leaf pin), and given one another brief language lessons (i retained nothing). most of the flight he stared out the window. the entire flight actually. now and again he would nudge and say something, excitedely pointing at the tv screen, and then out the window, i would smile and nod, having no idea what he was going on about.

have you ever seen those posters where the chinese wear the tan sweater and teh red shirt underneath? that's exactly what he was wearing.

(2) i have to catch the airport bus into seoul. i'm supposed to get off at the lotte hotel. i step out into a glittering, spacious lobby. a porter quickly seizes my luggage and tells me to check in. i nod, looking around for sam lee, my contact. i have no idea what he looks like. maybe that's him sitting there, young, hip, but he doesn't stir. maybe not. at the front desk: "no sam lee here." so i ask the man to call him. i have his number. behind me a phone rings and the hip young man stands up. aha, sam lee after all. "this isn't where you'll be staying," he whispers, "i told him we're staying here tomorrow, that's why he's being so nice, but that's not true."

(3) samsung motel is the kind of back alley place that teens rent out by the hour on promnight. ok, maybe not that bad. it is clean and quiet and heated and has internet. there is also a half used tube of toothpaste and a almost new bar of soap in the bathroom. but different country, different customs. really i have no complaints. i'll just have to get used to the dim neon tube lighting in the hall.

(4) sam is a cool guy. and friendly. i suppose it is his job to be in town at 9 pm to meet me as i get in from the airport, but i can't help but feel grateful. he gives me a brief rundown of the block, takes me to a little place to get bimbap (sp) or korean sushi. he's from denver. a year or two older than me. he'll be leading the training tomorrow.


i could write more, like how at first glance seoul didn't seem to be much different from western cities. same green highway signs. red yellow green lights. blase high rise apartments. but inside it's a bit more overwhelming. at night. bright lights everywhere, street vendors selling little bits of meat on wooden sticks. people everywhere. the earth's slow spinning on its tilted axis disorienting me. the lights blur as my mind tries to bridge the 9 hour time gap. it's 10:41 here, so it's almost 8 back home. i should probabably get some sleep.