Dec. 17, 2012
Just before landing outside of Seoul, the flight attendant
announced that the local time was 10:30 PM, and that the temperature was 18
degrees Fahrenheit. It dawned on me that Korea was in a very different part of
the world than I was leaving, and that Thailand had proved enough of a
distraction for me to not realize what I was getting into. Luckily I only would
be spending 18 hours there.
As I walked through the terminal, I noticed two guys dressed
in, what looked like African clothing. They were wearing pants and shirts from
cloth that was in the style of kente cloth from Ghana. They were each carrying
a djembe on their back. As I got closer, I saw that they were indeed Korean and
one of them had a Ghanaian flag sticking out of their backpack. I was curious
about what they were just coming back from. Unfortunately, when I tried to talk
to them, they could not respond, since they spoke no English. I wondered how
they had gotten by in Ghana without speaking English. I’m sure they had a wonderful
story.
It looked like it would be too late at night for me to get
into the city without paying for an incredibly expensive cab. So I agreed to
meet up with my friend, Jenna, the next morning. I had met Jenna a couple years
earlier when we interned together at The Arizona Republic. She was now teaching
in South Korea.
Since it looked like I would be spending a cold night in the
airport, I went to the Korean Air desk and asked if it would be possible to
access my checked bags. They were so kind and polite, and without question they
brought me my bags. I went through it, found my jacket, shoes and socks, and
gave it back. I had very little for warm clothing. I was wearing shorts and a
t-shirt, so this jacket and shoes would hopefully be enough for my hours.
I wandered the airport, I read, I sat. There was not much
chance of me sleeping. Finally at 6 AM I took the first shuttle bus into the
city. I was sitting near some people who had just flown in. They looked Korean,
but spoke English with American accents. I chatted to them briefly, but after
it came out that they were from Vancouver and I was from Seattle, they went
back to talking amongst themselves. Had I offended them, or was it another
Canadian snob that didn’t want to associate with Americans. Maybe I’m paranoid.
I had felt wide awake when I got on, but by the time we
started to get into the city, I was dozing. I actually slept a stop or two past
my stop. Luckily I was able to figure out where I was and head in the direction
I was trying to go. Stepping out of the bus was shocking. It was incredibly
cold, especially since I had been in tropical climates for most of the past six
months. I was trying to walk towards the central transit point, but it was so
cold, that I needed to get inside a building to warm up. I discovered a network
of underground malls. None of the shops were open, and it was only a little bit
warmer, but it was good enough. I used the network of underground shops to get
closer to the central bus station. When I rose to the street level, I found a
sleepy market area. It was early and it was Sunday, so not much was going on. I
saw some food stalls and a couple of fishmongers. It looked like this would
have had a lot of potential on a different day. I bought a little snack from one
of the vendors. It was some sort of pastry, shaped like a fish, with a sweet
filling made from a bean paste. With a little imagination it was like
chocolate. The bit of human interaction in this desolate market made me forget
the bitter cold.
Further on, I knew that I needed a real meal. It was still
hours from when I was meeting Jenna, so I took my time to get to the station.
Almost nothing was open, due to the hour and the fact that it was Sunday. The
only thing I was able to find looked like something of a casual chain
restaurant. I was really enjoying being in a country that I knew absolutely
nothing about and had never had much interest in being in. It forced me to be
humble and really learn from simply being there, even though it was just a
matter of hours. The menu, luckily, had pictures, and I pointed to something
that looked warm and not too expensive. I appreciated that although this was a
chain restaurant, and could be considered fast food, that they had not
completely taken a completely American approach to it.
As I ate my hot soup (it was not bibimbop, but was maybe in
the same genre) a group of college-aged people came in. I had been the only
patron until then. I watched them order, and slowly became surprised at the
fact that they seemed to be having trouble in their ordering. They had all
looked at the menu for a while, while talking amongst themselves. I had not
thought that they were foreigners, but as they tried to order, I recognized a
serious language barrier. I eventually realized that they were Japanese
exchange students. It seemed interesting that of all the people now in this
restaurant, nobody was Korean. The food was good, and maybe I started to see
some light in a cuisine that I had always shunned. When I was done I headed to
the station, which was not far way at this point.
Regardless of it being a Sunday morning, the station was
busy. If I had known anything about Korea beforehand, I would not have been
surprised at how well dressed everyone was. It was one of the rare times when I
became conscious of how scrubby I looked. I was supposed to meet Jenna at ten,
but when 10:30 rolled around I decided to give her a call. Turned out she had
overslept and was just getting on her way. She lived an hour away, so I did
what any sensible young traveler would do on a random layover would do. I
sampled the local brew. I gained a great respect for Korea, for the fact that
not only did they sell beer at the bus station’s convenience store, but it
seemed at least a little bit appropriate to drink it right there in the
station. Also, it didn’t count as drinking in the morning, since I had not
slept the night before. So don’t judge.
While I waited, I noticed a calligraphy artist doing what
turned out to be a public promotion for their calligraphy business. They were
doing free calligraphy for anybody that got in line. So I got in line, and had
a piece done for me that I heard later actually costs quite a bit in normal
cases. I felt like I was packing a lot of little cultural experiences into my short
layover.
Jenna finally arrived, and we took a cab to a cool little
neighborhood that seemed to have a lot going on. I wish I remembered the name
of it. We walked to a street that was pedestrians only, where food vendors and
cool shops lined the walkways. Jenna took me to a cool little restaurant where
I would finally have Korean bbq done properly. Everywhere else I’d seen it, I
hadn’t bothered, since it was usually really expensive. We took our shoes off
upon entering, a custom I can always get down with, and sat on the floor at our
short table. They brought us a sample of meats and an array of condiments and
pickled…things. I can’t pretend that I know anything about Korean cuisine or
culture. We cooked our meats on the barbecue that sat at the middle of the
table and ate away. The meal was tasty, filling, but not heavy. There seemed to
be a lot of balance involved. Although I was only in Korea for a matter of
hours, I felt like I did enough to say that I have been to the country.
I felt so lucky to have a friend that would come show me a
good time on a whim. It really meant a lot to be able to have this experience
while I was there. Unfortunately we only had time for lunch, and after, we went
back to the station, so I could get back to the airport in time. Korea seemed
interesting, though. I don’t know if it had some of the things that I really
like in countries that I enjoy being in, but it had something alluring. Maybe
it was the fact that it seemed so distinct in its culture. East Asia is about as
far from America as it gets culturally, although Korea has an undeniable
American connection. This looked like it could be fascinating. The food has
never grabbed me, and the drab buildings provided a less than inspiring urban
landscape. However, there was an atmosphere, maybe a smell in the air, that
seemed distinct and different enough to make me consider this a place to return
to; to figure out and explore. I think only time will tell if Korea ever turns
up again on my itinerary.
Now it was back onto another luxurious Korean Air plane,
heading back to America. Korea was officially my last stop on my 15-month,
three continent, 13 country adventure. Can I sum up this trip in a succinct
little conclusion? Should I bother? Is this trip ever really over? Would
America even seem like a final destination, or just another long layover? I am
already writing this from another country, nine months later, and while I feel
like that was a distinct journey, I don’t know if it warrants treating it like
the end of an era. I’m still traveling. I’m still learning. I’m still adapting.
I’m still trying to explore and figure out this world as much as myself. So
considering that, no, maybe there should not be a conclusion. Let it ride?
