Insadong

I began writing this entry a month ago, but then I got distracted by midterms and out-of-town trips, so I’ve only just now gotten around to finishing it.  But I wanted to make sure to post it, because it covers one of the most interesting and charming parts of Seoul. 

When visiting Korea for the first time, Insadong in Seoul should probably be one of your first stops, but for some reason it took me nearly 8 months to get there.  It’s a great place to sample all things Korean, from traditional tea shops and killer street food to all kinds of hand-made souvenirs, and it’s right in the heart of the capital.  So when a friend suggested a day trip to Seoul on one of the first nice spring weekends, this is where I requested to go.  His way of agreeing was to ask with incredulity, “What do you mean you haven’t been to Insadong yet?”

Jogyesa Temple

We hopped on a train around noon on a Saturday after a hasty kimbap lunch.  Once we arrived in Seoul, our first stop was Jogyesa Temple.  I hate to say it, but after 8 months in Korea the Buddhist temples, beautiful though they are, are starting to lose their novelty for me – meaning, they’re all starting to kind of look the same.  The colors are still stunning, the carved panels along the outside are still impressive, but I’d be lying if I said I still regard them with the same sense of wonder that I had last fall – especially when they’re in the middle of an urbanized area surrounded by the same featureless office towers that pervade every Korean city. 

Close-ups of Jogyesa
Temple decor

At any rate, in contrast to the usual stillness of temples, the courtyard outside Jogyesa was bustling with activity on this Saturday.  This was partly due to there being many visitors like me who were trying to enjoy the nice spring weather.  But there was something else going on, something augmenting the bustle – there were groups of men everywhere, some of them stacking dozens and dozens of large cardboard boxes against the temple, while others were erecting rows of thin metal poles and scaffolds all through the courtyard.  My friend explained to me that they were preparing to decorate the temple for Seokga tansinil, or Buddha’s birthday.  This is a national holiday in Korea (and most other Asian countries), and at the time the date was still over a month away.  I now know that Buddhist temples throughout the country festoon their grounds, buildings, and gardens with colorful paper lotus lanterns for the entire month of the holiday, and if I’d waited just a couple more days before visiting Jogyesa, I would have arrived to a much more vibrant, festive display. 

After concluding our stroll around the temple grounds, we crossed the road and entered Insadong.  If I’d thought the temple was bustling with activity, I was ill prepared for the commotion of Insadong.  The dense crowds that thronged through the streets swept me away, and it was useless to fight against the current.  This place was an assault on the senses.  I was bombarded by all the sights, sounds, and smells (the good and the bad) of Korea, for they all seemed concentrated in this one small neighborhood.  The rank odor of simmering beondegi (silk worm pupa, a popular street food item) mingled with the spicy smell of more palatable Korean food like tteokbokki.  People stood on soapboxes and in store fronts shouting in Korean, some of them with microphones or megaphones – I think this had something to do with the upcoming election, because there were people marching around with large signs as well.  I could be wrong about that though.  The streets were lined with little merchant shops selling their wares – antiques, pottery, porcelain tea sets, intricately decorated wooden boxes, hanji paper, hand-printed cloth wall hangings, etc. etc.  There were men painting and selling paper fans on the sidewalk.

Insadong is popular with locals and foreigners alike, which I’m sure is why it was so crowded on this day, the first true spring-like Saturday after a long, cold winter.  Even though it was once a neighborhood for wealthy government officials, Insadong has been the haunt of artists, especially painters, for hundreds of years.  It was transformed during the Japanese occupation when all the wealthy residents were forced to leave and sell their belongings, turning the area into hotspot for the trading of antiques.  Over time, the area became more and more associated with arts, folk crafts, and cafes.  It supposedly once had a more historic feel than it does today.  Korea sometimes has an upsetting tendency to bulldoze its historical sites in its quest for modernization; this tendency led to the renovation of Insadong at the start of the new millennium.  Still, it has managed to maintain its status as one of the most popular parts of Seoul, especially with foreign visitors. 

Hotteok!

As the crowd carried us down the street, I disengage myself long enough to pop into a few shops to seek out souvenirs for folks back home.  This was like Takayama all over again – after months of failing to find suitable gifts for people, I suddenly found myself surrounded by them, and a minor shopping binge ensued.  The only thing I bought for myself was some hotteok, my favorite street food snack (it’s sort of like a thick fried pancake or biscuit stuffed with brown sugar, cinnamon, and ground peanuts).  We also stopped in a tea house – this one was more modern than traditional – and I had a big steaming cup of the richest, most decadent ginger tea I’ve ever encountered.  At that point, I was satisfied with my Insadong experience and was ready to get away from the crowd for a little while.  On our way out, we got stopped by two separate groups of college-age girls (about 5 or 10 minutes apart) who were trying to interview tourists about Korea’s services and tourist infrastructure.  It wasn’t clear whether this was for their jobs or if it was a class assignment.  Now, I’m not sure if I’m technically a tourist, and I usually don’t stop to talk to clipboard-carrying people who approach me on the street – but what can I say?  I’m a sucker for cute Korean girls, I guess, because I gave each group about 10 minutes of my time.

Tea house in Insadong

Traditional hanok houses in Bukchon

A short walk away from Insadong is Bukchon, a beautiful neighborhood of steep, narrow streets and traditional hanok houses.  Unlike recently-renovated Insadong, this 600-year-old urban environment still manages to capture the atmosphere of the Joseon Dynasty.  It’s also probably among the most photographed places in Seoul – I’d wanted to check this place out ever since seeing some images a friend uploaded to facebook months before.  It’s a place of pretty interesting contrasts.  Very old-meets-new.  The streets are lined with old, quintessentially Asian houses with curving roofs and parallel rows of overlapping shingles; but between the houses one can see the towering, faceless skyscrapers of modern Seoul all around.

By the time we left Bukchon, the daylight was fading.  We appeased our appetites with some typical Korean barbeque and then patjuk for dessert – a hot, sweet red bean porridge.  I know patjuk may not sound very appetizing to some, and to be honest it didn’t sound so great to me either, but it was surprisingly good and I could easily understand why this was considered a winter-time staple.  We then capped the night off the way we do so many Saturday nights in Korea – with a couple bottles of maekju.

Check back soon for some posts about a few other interesting parts of Korea that I’ve recently visited for the first time – such as Gyeongju and Busan.  

Bukchon neighborhood in Seoul

So This is Christmas?

I’ve been slacking. When I started this blog, I had intended to update it on a consistent basis, but I’ve now let more than a month pass without posting anything here.  I wish I could say my neglect was due to my being too busy adventuring and doing outrageously exciting things to spend time writing.  But the truth is I had a very low-key, uneventful December.  In an effort to save money for an upcoming trip to Japan, I’ve been going out less on the weekends and spending more time at home.  As a result, I just haven’t had much to write about.  Toward the end of December, however, the holidays and end-of-the-school-year activities did provide some stories that are worth telling.

A lot of folks back home have been asking whether or not Koreans celebrate Christmas.  The short, not-so-simple answer is: sort of. I mean, department stores decorate and coffee shops play Christmas music (usually remixed with electronic dance beats).  But people don’t travel to visit family, stores stay open, and hardly anyone gets extra time off work or school.  It’s like they adopt the seasonal themes superficially but don’t really practice the traditions.

Still, I got many wishes of “Merry Christmas” from my students and co-workers who recognize how important this holiday is to westerners.  On the Friday before Christmas weekend, a student gave me a strawberry cupcake as a Christmas present.  It was one of only two presents that I received this year, and it totally made my day.

Luckily, I have plenty of foreign friends here who wanted to do something special to celebrate.  And after a month of not doing much socially, I really needed to get out.

A white Christmas in Korea!

I awoke on the morning of December 24^th to bright blue skies and a fresh layer of snow on the ground.  Perfect – a white Christmas.  It was a good start.  The weather had been rather cold and dreary in the preceding weeks, so the delightful wintery scene from my balcony of snow-covered hills combined with the pungent, comforting aroma of wood smoke was very welcome indeed.  Despite the cold, I bundled up and sat on my balcony for a while, contentedly sipping a steaming cup of freshly-brewed java and enjoying the clear morning. 

The girls -- Asanda, Kira, Lauren,
 and Jenji -- with our lovely Christmas cake

Later that day, I met some friends at Cheonan Station and boarded a train bound for Seoul.  Another friend was apartment-sitting in the capital and had invited us to spend Christmas there – a prospect far more enticing than remaining in our usual stomping grounds.  After we arrived, we decided to go out for dinner.  Then, we stopped by a supermarket and bought a cake and some wine.  I also decided to splurge on a bottle of bourbon and justified the expense by saying that it was a Christmas present to myself.  It’s the little things that make the holidays special.

N Seoul Tower

We made a brief stop back at the apartment, ate the cake (after singing happy birthday to Jesus), had a quick drink, then went out again.  In an effort to do something more momentous and memorable, we resolved to go to Namsung Tower (also called N Seoul Tower), which sits atop a prominent hill in the heart of Seoul.  It’s a 777 ft. tall communication and observation structure – think of it as a Korean version of the Seattle Space Needle.  Equally touristy too.  We were able to take a cable car up to the top of Namsung Hill – a slightly uncomfortable, but mercifully quick ride.  I’m sure it sounds like a rather romantic notion to be sailing over the lights of Seoul in a cable car, but true to Koreans’ customary disregard for the concept of “personal space,” they had so many of us crammed into the car that you couldn’t have fit another person in with a shoe horn.  Stuck somewhere in the middle of the pack, I didn’t have much of a view outside.

Once at the top of the hill, we circled the base of the tower to check everything out.  There was a whole pavilion up there with souvenir shops, restaurants, and even a teddy bear museum.  The only thing of real interest, if only for its humorous quirkiness, was a viewing platform on which all the rails were adorned with “love padlocks.”  This is a custom by which sweethearts come together and affix a padlock on the railing and throw away the key, thereby creating a symbol of their everlasting love for each other.  A quick google search has shown me that this custom did not originate in Korea, but its cheesy cutesiness seems perfectly suited for this country and its sappy take on romantic relationships.

Love Padlocks at the pavilion atop Namsung Hill

The real attraction up here was the tower itself and the panoramic views from the top.  A 9000₩ elevator ride, complete with an intense 3D animation on the ceiling that simulated blasting off in a rocket, took us to the observation deck at the top of the tower.  The observation deck was completely enclosed, which kept everyone warm, but was nonetheless a little disappointing for me, since it’s difficult to take good photos through dirty glass.  Still, the view is easily the best and most prominent in the city.  Due to the tower’s central location, one is able to see the bright lights of the world’s second largest metropolis spreading out as far as the eye can see in all directions – no other view goes so far in helping one to appreciate the immensity of this city.  Another neat feature was that the names of the great cities of the world were printed near the tops of the glass window panes, with an indication of in which direction they lay and how far distant they are.  It turns out that my beloved Seattle is 8,331.88 km away.  (I returned to N Seoul Tower a couple weeks later, this time during daylight, with hopes of snapping some good photos – but alas, the forecasted clear skies didn’t materialize, resulting in less-than-ideal photographing conditions.  Still, a sample photo can be seen below this post)

A view of Seoul from N Seoul Tower on Christmas Eve

The remainder of our Christmas Eve was spent back at the apartment cozily watching Christmas movies and drinking in holiday cheer (with a splash of alcohol).  The following day was more of the same.  Two of my friends graciously prepared us a very delicious albeit non-traditional Christmas feast and we all eventually returned to Cheonan that evening very satisfied with how we’d spent the holiday weekend.  Ultimately, my Christmas ended up bearing many similarities to my Thanksgiving this year– characterized by westerners coming together and, in the absence of family and the comforts of home, consciously trying to recreate something of the ambiance and tradition we’re used to.  It's like we know the recipe by heart, so we do what we can despite lacking a few ingredients.  Like Thanksgiving, my Christmas in Korea was not quite typical, but still familiar enough to keep loneliness and homesickness at bay.

I’m a couple weeks late getting this posted, but I’d still like to wish you all happy holidays and the best of luck in the new year.  Here’s to a 2012 filled with even more adventure, fun, and self-discovery!  If the Mayans were right, this could be our last chance to make the best of things, so make sure you take advantage of what precious little time you have left! (That was a joke.  But seriously though, Carpe Diem!)

A daytime view of Seoul from the top of N Seoul Tower

The Last 2 Weeks in Review -- Rugby, Shopping, and BBQ

Things are starting to change.  The weather is becoming cooler, the leaves are slowly shifting their colors, and I am gradually becoming acclimated to my new life here in South Korea.  I’m pretty comfortable with the public transportation system at this point, which is enabling me to branch out and explore more of this tiny, baffling country.

I’ve been eating out a lot, sampling different kinds of Korean foods.  I’m really drawn to the array of unique, spicy soups and stews available.  I suspect this tendency will only grow with the arrival of colder weather.  I’m trying to avoid doing the cliché tourist thing and describing in hyperbolic detail every dish I’ve tried, though I’m tempted to.  I will say, however, that I got a healthy dose of culture shock when I made my first trip to the grocery store.  First of all, I should’ve brought a patient translator along – the labels were almost all in Hangeul, and there was plenty that I could not identify by just looking.  I spent at least two hours in the store walking around and taking everything in – the unfamiliar vegetables, the unidentifiable items in the seafood section, the squid-flavored potato chips, the dozens and dozens of different kinds of kimchi.  A can of Spam-style canned meat costs more than ground beef?  Really?  Pineapple juice in a big carton? It was a trip.  I’ll probably do most of my shopping at the Lotte Mart by Cheonan/Asan station, but I’ve learned that there’s a genuine Costco in Daejeon where foreigners regularly go for comfort items that are otherwise hard to find.  I plan on doing this soon.  I’m all for embracing differences, but no one’s going to deny me my block cheese, bacon, and good beer.  (And yes I plan on consuming all three at once).

I’ve started making friends in Cheonan – mostly westernized expats like myself.  No honest-to-goodness Korean friends yet, but I’m working on it.  I joined a facebook group called Cheonan Scene that led me to some cool folks.  Also, my friend and co-teacher John Spooner, who I mentioned in my last post, is a DJ who sometimes spins at one of the foreigner bars in town.  I accompanied him one Friday night and was a little too easily persuaded to down shots of tequila by friendly people who wanted me to feel welcome.  People around here, Koreans and foreigners alike, don’t hit the bars until 11 and stay out all night to the wee hours of the morning.  I couldn’t hang though, and had to duck out around 2 a.m.  Where I come from, that’s last call.

Two weekends ago was Chuseok, a major Korean holiday that’s usually described as ‘Korean Thanksgiving.’  It was a five-day weekend, which allowed for some exploring.  I finally got out of my local area and got to see some of Seoul.  My first trip up was with Spooner, and I got a good deal on an acoustic guitar in Yongsan.  When it comes to shopping in Korea, the general rule of thumb is to learn to haggle, or else get ripped off.  This is especially true for foreigners.  When I bought a beard trimmer (which, by the way, was incredibly difficult to find, since it’s really rare for Korean men to wear facial hair), the guy originally asked for 150,000₩, but I was able to talk him down to 60,000 without much persuading.     

Another time, I went up to a popular foreigner district of Seoul called Itaewon accompanied by a group of girls from South Africa.  We went to watch a rugby world cup match between South Africa and Wales.  The pub was packed full, and the Welsh supporters were woefully outnumbered.  You should have heard the walls shake when the South African national anthem was sung.  It was an awesome thing – almost made me wish I could be South African for the night.  And the celebration afterwards when the Springboks squeezed out a win was a blast.  We ate Turkish kebabs and drank beer, hopping from place to place.  At one point we ended up at a cocktail bar called Bungalow that had a sandy floor and rope-swings for seating.  Later, we ended up at a hookah bar with an overt sexual theme (by way of example, the drinks on the menu had nice, wholesome names like ‘wet pussy’).  It was interesting, to say the least.

My most recent adventure took me to a small town in southern Chungnam Province called Nonsan.  I met up with some friends I hadn’t seen since SEPIC orientation.  One of them, Matthew from California, was throwing a barbeque for the girls in his English camp.  The idea was for them to get to talk to other native speakers and to get a sampling of Western culture.  We accordingly grilled hamburgers and hotdogs, while the Korean teachers prepared samgyeupsal (Korean BBQ fare consisting of grilled pork, chili paste, and shredded green onions wrapped in lettuce leaves).  I also brought my guitar and gave some of the girls a lesson in blues music.  I ended up teaching some of them a few chords.  One girl was happily pounding out the bassline for Smoke on the Water by the time it was over.  Reminded me of the AmeriCorps Late Night events I volunteered at for two years in Federal Way.

After the barbeque, the adults went back to Matt’s apartment building for a little rooftop party.  Later in the night, Neo (another South African, and my roommate from orientation) and I impulsively decided to hop a train to Daejeon – Korea’s third largest city, which wasn’t too far away.  On the way to the train station, I left my wallet in the backseat of the taxi.  I managed to avoid freaking out, even though my only access to money was the ATM card in my wallet.  It’s just a good thing I was with a friend.  Neo promptly paid for my train ticket, then spotted me 50,000₩ (around $45) to get me through the night and back home the following morning.  What a guy.  So my night wasn’t ruined.  At the first bar we entered, we immediately ran into a big group of Americans and South Africans from our orientation and proceeded to have a great time.  In another stunning show of generosity, an Alabama girl named Taylor allowed me crash with her and her friend in their motel room….you know, because I had no wallet and all.  Now that's what I call southern hospitality.

So the generosity of others got me through what otherwise might’ve been a harrowing ordeal.  It gave my faith in humanity a boost.  And to top it all off, two days later I discovered that someone had turned in my wallet to the police – with cash, cards, and all still inside.  Now, I had heard that Koreans are honest, but that just blew me away.

So that about covers it.  Now that the weather is cooling off, I’m thinking it’s about time I get away from the hustle n’ bustle and start exploring Korea’s mountains.  Gyeryongsan National Park may be in store for this weekend.  Until next time, my friends, keep it real.