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Saturday, June 24, 2006


I was thinking the other night, as I was falling asleep, about how living in another country forces you to think about the country you were raised in more carefully. In a way, you learn more about your national identity when you’re abroad than when you’re in your home country. Of course some people in these days of the globalization of culture have grown up without a mother/father country, moving frequently. As an urban Canadian, I have realized here that our multiculturalism is both unique and thorough.

While there are certainly bigots in Canada, the mainstream ethos, especially in cities like Vancouver and Toronto, is that the idea of a “foreigner” is itself foreign. There are very few people of European descent in Korea, especially in Masan where I am living. There is a section of Seoul that is primarily American, a leftover military village from the Korean War, but other than that, it is a little unusual to see a Caucasian. Whenever it happens, and your eyes meet, there is a curious, inquisitive moment where you are both wondering the reason for the other being there. Usually, among people of my generation, it is teaching English that brings them to Korea.

Don’t get me wrong: I don’t see the people here as intentionally trying to make me feel like a foreigner or an outsider. But they do treat you different. Overwhelmingly, it is usually different in a positive light. They come up to you and say hello, hoping to practise the little English they know; they put extra stuff in your shopping bag or give you a discount to try to give you a good impression of Korean culture, or perhaps because they try to imagine the difficulties of being a foreigner. Alternatively, they can guess why I am here, and because Korean culture places such a huge emphasis on education (it is not unusual for high school students to be up until midnight studying), I get treated with respect because I am a teacher, a sung-saeng-nimh, a term they also use for elders.

All this pampering has made me reflect on the lack of mutual respect I often felt back home. One effect of Canada’s intense multiculturalism might perhaps be an erosion of hospitality. Not that Canadians are inhospitable, but perhaps because the idea of a foreigner is foreign to many of us, we don’t feel the need to go to such great lengths to assuage the difficulties of being a foreigner. Just a thought to be considered more…

Friday, June 16, 2006

A Seoul-ful Trip (Part II)


The neighbourhood in Seoul that we went clubbing in was raucus. Cars and people packed the streets like sardines in a can. None of us had the can opener either… Jenna, Adrian’s friend, seemed to have a dead-set itinerary in mind; anytime I whimsically suggested something else (I think I only did that once anyway), it was if I hadn’t said anything. I didn’t mind at the time, overwhelmed as I was with the sights, smells, and sounds emanating from the restaurants and bars that lined the streets. I guess this crowd was sick of the place they usually went to and stayed at.

We went to a sheesha bar: a place where you buy a flavoured block of tobacco and smoke it through a hookah or water pipe. The place we went to was full, but the atmosphere I could tell was fantastic. The plan-B spot also had an amazing atmosphere: it had cushions with which you could lounge on the floor; a pond in the middle of the room with a burnished metal-fish scale effect on the bottom, rose petals, and candles floating on the surface of the water, and private booths on different levels separated off from the other rooms with a gauzy curtain.

While most things in Korea are cheaper than in Canada, the prices in this place were on par with a trendy spot in Toronto. I had an $8 margarita that tasted like straight tequila, and they brought us snacks. The aroma of incense was a little sedating, and I soon got restless, eagerly anticipating the bustle and excitement of another place. The next spot was a sports bar type thing where people were watching world cup action. We ordered more drinks and played euchre. I got my butt kicked!

Next we went to a bar called tinpan alley, where the beers were cheap, and the company consisted of more ex-pats than your typical Korean bar. I met Adrian’s boss here, and he shook my hand firmly said “I like you.” He’s probably one of those guys who evaluates other guys on the strength and co-ordination of their handshakes lol. Nevertheless, he was roguishly charming, and he ambled on in what I thought was a Scottish brogue, but he turned out to be Irish. Here, we played a drinking game called “Circle of Death.” It was incredibly fun: if you draw red, you have to take that number of gulps yourself, but if you draw black, you distribute the gulps to others. If you draw a king, you have to make up a category that everyone has to think of things that fit, and the first one who screws up or can’t think of one has to drink. Draw a Jack, and you have to think of something that you’ve never done before, and anyone who has done it has to drink. Our minds were humorously in the gutter for this one, and a couple times ventured into the realms of “too much information.”

We left this bar for a dance club where they were playing popular North American hip hop songs. Although it was very crowded, the dancing was animated, and much fun was had by all. Jenna could have qualified for “Girls gone wild” at some points of the evening. Adrian and I caught a cab home and unwound, rehashing some of the nights already fond memories. The verdict: Seoul is full of Soul.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

A Seoul-ful Trip



I went to Seoul on the weekend, whimsical, sprawling Seoul. The scale of this city is mind-boggling. The only thing that compares to it in my experience is London (mind you, I’ve never been to New York City). The area around the bus terminal is kind of boring, so my first impression was a little dreary. The cloudy weather didn’t help. I arrived in the city at four in the morning, having slept what little I could on the bus from Masan. I romped around a little, taking a few night shots with the trusty digi-camera, then I found a bathhouse to clean up and take a little nap in.

I woke up at seven and proceeded to walk around for hours, as I was due to meet my friend after twelve, when she would finish teaching her students (yes, there’s school on Saturdays here at some schools). I wandered around in a daze, made it to the Han river, which is much wider than I ever expected. Many bridges span it, and in the distance, atop a small mountain was Seoul Tower, a structure roughly similar to Toronto’s own CN Tower, or Seattle’s Space Needle…I made a mental note to visit again in order to see the view from it; I’m sure it would be spectacular being on top of a mountain as it is and all…

Then I wandered back towards the bus depot, where I was meeting my friend Adrian. I passed it, and I found a sports field where people were playing soccer, tennis, basketball, and some weird, wobbly skateboard-type thing. Being a big basketball fan as I am, I sat down and watched the action for a while. When I finally met up with Adrian (I haven’t seen her in 8 months), she asked me whether I wanted to go to one of the magnificent palaces that Seoul houses. I said of course. But soon after we exited the subway (whose system is much more complex than Toronto’s), it started raining raccoons and wolves. We still decided to go through with the hour and a half tour, after which we ended up soaked on one shoulder each, as we were sharing an umbrella. We then went to Adrian’s apartment and relaxed a little before we met up with some of Adrian’s teaching friends for dinner at a Thai restaurant and proceeded to go clubbing. Now, I’m not the sort of person who goes to bars too much anymore, as I usually get bored because I prefer to have conversations where I don’t have to yell, and I appreciate the smoky atmosphere even less than when I was younger. But I figured that because I’m in Korea, now is the time for me to do things I normally wouldn’t, and go out on a limb; I went for the gusto!

But that’s all for now: I will finish the story tomorrow.