My Weekend or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Korea
My apolgies for the longness of this. Read it anyway, mofos!
This was a very culturally jarring New Year's weekend. I decided to go to Seoul because I hadn't been there before, and thought it would be a good place to spend the long weekend. I got up early so I could get there early in the afternoon, as it's a four hour bus ride to Seoul. I didn't have any plans, I knew basically where I wanted to find a hotel, but that was about it. I spent most of the afternoon relaxing, doing stupid touristy things: I visited a couple of temples and went to a cheesy aquarium, but it was lots of fun.
That's when things took a turn for the weird. I decided to find a hotel in Incheon. Now if New York City has a Koreatown, Incheon is what you might call the Americatown of Seoul. It's where all the Western people of Seoul tend to congregate: the Americans, Canadians, Brits, Aussies, and what have you. There's also a small little enclave of Russians, who you can identify by their tight jeans and neon track jackets. In addition, there's a pretty sizeable population of Nigerians and Pakastanis. After two months of being just about the only Western person in my particular area, I thought that it would be a fun change of pace.
So I signed up for my hotel room, and decided to find a place to eat. I ended up in a German restaurant, of all places. As in, the cook was from Germany. I have never before heard Korean spoken with a German accent. Anyway, the place wasn't busy because it was kind of late, so the chef sat at my table with me and gave me lots of good German beer. I practiced some drunken German with him! So after I was good and boozey, I remembered that I was supposed to call this guy Guillaume that I know, who told me he would be in Seoul for the weekend and to call him at some point while I was there.
Now let me tell you a little about Guillaume. I've only met him three times total, which has led me to the conclusion that he is colossally boring. I met him through my coworker's daughter at a dinner with a couple of foreign teachers in the area. I didn't talk to him much that first time, but he asked me to come and hang out with him the next day. (He lives in a neighboring city, about an hour bus trip away). I didn't have anything better to do, so I agreed. I discovered that he has no sense of humor at all and is generally a lame person. He spent about 30 minutes telling me about Vancouver (where he is from) in boring, excruciating detail. He also tried to give me advice about Korea, even though he's only been here a month longer than me. He thinks he is an expert on everything, but really, he is just insufferable. The third time I saw him was in a big group of foreigners for a Thanksgiving dinner.
Despite his general annoying-ness, I decided I would feel bad if I didn't call him, since he is constantly sending me desperate emails asking me to hang out with him. And I was well on my way to drunkenness already, so I figured he would be easier to tolerate. When I called him, he told me that he could meet me at midnight. I figured that he was out doing something else, and wouldn't be free until then, so I said okay, I'd meet him in front of my hotel at midnight. Stay tuned to discover just how pathetic he truly is!!!
I had about three hours to kill before midnight, so I decided to find a club to go to. I went to a place called the UN club, a popular place for the military guys. I was attracted initially by the the blaring music (it had been a long long while since I'd been dancing anywhere), and the cheap drinks. I only paid for my first drink, before I was immediately befriended by a drunk guy who looked like Nelly and was generous with the drinks. The music turned out to be terrible: I'd host a better party with my Ipod on shuffle, but I decided to dance anyway. I was drunk, and would never see these people again. I was promptly dance-molested by practically every guy on the dance floor (all of the ladies know what I'm talking about). And when I say "every guy" I mean the military guys. So I started dancing with the one Korean guy there, and he was much nicer, and a better dancer, than all of them.
Midnight rolls around, and I left the club with a random Nigerian in tow, to meet Guillaume. He wasn't there. So I called him to see where he was. "I'm still on the bus," he tells me. Now why on earth would he take the bus to get around in Seoul? The subway system is much faster and efficient, especially at this time of the night. So I raise this point with him. "No, I'm not on the Seoul system, I'm still on the bus from Jinju," he explains. So let me lay this out for you: he wasn't even IN Seoul anymore when I called him. Instead of saying, "No thanks, I just came back from Seoul yesterday," he shells out the money for a three hour bus ride back to Seoul. To arrive at midnight. For like one drink. Who the hell does this? Sad, desperate people, that's who.
So he eventually gets to Seoul and we go to some bar owned by Canadians, called the Rocky Mountain Tavern. At this point, I'm totally toasted and sort of weirded out by Guillaume. Nice bar, and it had an autographed picture of the Trews, which I thought was pretty cool. So we have one drink, the Nigerian goes home, and Guillome has nowhere to stay. I ended up getting a room with two beds, since it's hard to find single-bed rooms in Korea, so I reluctantly offer the extra bed to him. He agrees to stay. In the hotel, he tries to massage my shoulders. He's always trying to semi-put the moves on me, but I have the feeling that he has never successfully put the moves on a female EVER. I immediately rebuff him and get into bed. He gets into his bed and then he wants to TALK. I rarely use chat lingo, but I think this is an appropriate place to insert an OMG. I pretended to fall asleep.
In the morning, he wanted to hang out, but I wanted to shop, so I told him to hit the road (sort of nicer than that, but not really). So after I got rid of him, I decided to stop at McDonalds for a quick, cheap breakfast. Itaewon has one of the only McDonalds in Korea that serves the McDonalds breakfast, incidentally. The place was lousy with loud, annoying Americans. I suddenly realized where the obnoxious American stereotype comes from, and I wanted to distance myself from it, quickly. I found myself avoiding the other foreigners for the entire day, even though part of my purpose in going to Seoul was to meet new people. Instead, I spent an hour talking to a Korean guy who owns his own art studio, but does those 15 minute paintings on the street. He made me a lovely little name painting. Very cool. Then I hung out with some Korean guys in track suits beatboxing in front of a shoe store.
Eventually, I went to an Egyptian restaurant (good food, but overpriced) and went back home. I ended up sitting in one of the four-seater sections of the bus with a mom and her two kids. The seat I had bought was right in the middle of their seats, so I moved so they could all be together. At the rest stop, they got off the bus, and I stayed put, because I always have a secret fear that I'll get back on the wrong bus or it will leave without me or something. Silly, I know. The mom returned with a bottle of water for me and a fishcake! (Not as disgusting as it sounds, it's just bread shaped like a fish with red bean paste in the center.) As I was sitting there smiling to myself about the random act of kindness, I realized that I'm actually much happier when surrounded by Koreans, even though we have communication issues. Suddenly, I felt a sense of peace about living in Korea for a year, and in such a remote area of the country. Being surrounded by Westerners all weekend made me realize four things:
1. I shouldn't count on finding more Western friends as the answer to my problems.
2. Most of my problems were stemming from the fact that I thought I needed more Western people in my life, but I don't.
3. I don't like very many people.
4. I'm happy here.
When I got back home, my friend Hyun came over and we watched the CSI marathon on OCN. I about flipped my shit when the channel had a commercial for the Matrix that mashed up scenes from the movie with the song "Kung Fu Fighting." It was just about the funniest thing I have ever seen. And Hyun promised to find me some good Korean movies with English subtitles. He's a nice guy: I met him through the family that barely speaks English I met my first weekend here. They didn't want me to be lonely, so they introduced me to Hyun and his brother. Between the two of them, they have the best English speaking abilities that I've run into in this particular region.
Oh, and pro tip: Never, ever tell a Korean person that your potatoes have eyes. It will baffle the shit out of them.
This was a very culturally jarring New Year's weekend. I decided to go to Seoul because I hadn't been there before, and thought it would be a good place to spend the long weekend. I got up early so I could get there early in the afternoon, as it's a four hour bus ride to Seoul. I didn't have any plans, I knew basically where I wanted to find a hotel, but that was about it. I spent most of the afternoon relaxing, doing stupid touristy things: I visited a couple of temples and went to a cheesy aquarium, but it was lots of fun.
That's when things took a turn for the weird. I decided to find a hotel in Incheon. Now if New York City has a Koreatown, Incheon is what you might call the Americatown of Seoul. It's where all the Western people of Seoul tend to congregate: the Americans, Canadians, Brits, Aussies, and what have you. There's also a small little enclave of Russians, who you can identify by their tight jeans and neon track jackets. In addition, there's a pretty sizeable population of Nigerians and Pakastanis. After two months of being just about the only Western person in my particular area, I thought that it would be a fun change of pace.
So I signed up for my hotel room, and decided to find a place to eat. I ended up in a German restaurant, of all places. As in, the cook was from Germany. I have never before heard Korean spoken with a German accent. Anyway, the place wasn't busy because it was kind of late, so the chef sat at my table with me and gave me lots of good German beer. I practiced some drunken German with him! So after I was good and boozey, I remembered that I was supposed to call this guy Guillaume that I know, who told me he would be in Seoul for the weekend and to call him at some point while I was there.
Now let me tell you a little about Guillaume. I've only met him three times total, which has led me to the conclusion that he is colossally boring. I met him through my coworker's daughter at a dinner with a couple of foreign teachers in the area. I didn't talk to him much that first time, but he asked me to come and hang out with him the next day. (He lives in a neighboring city, about an hour bus trip away). I didn't have anything better to do, so I agreed. I discovered that he has no sense of humor at all and is generally a lame person. He spent about 30 minutes telling me about Vancouver (where he is from) in boring, excruciating detail. He also tried to give me advice about Korea, even though he's only been here a month longer than me. He thinks he is an expert on everything, but really, he is just insufferable. The third time I saw him was in a big group of foreigners for a Thanksgiving dinner.
Despite his general annoying-ness, I decided I would feel bad if I didn't call him, since he is constantly sending me desperate emails asking me to hang out with him. And I was well on my way to drunkenness already, so I figured he would be easier to tolerate. When I called him, he told me that he could meet me at midnight. I figured that he was out doing something else, and wouldn't be free until then, so I said okay, I'd meet him in front of my hotel at midnight. Stay tuned to discover just how pathetic he truly is!!!
I had about three hours to kill before midnight, so I decided to find a club to go to. I went to a place called the UN club, a popular place for the military guys. I was attracted initially by the the blaring music (it had been a long long while since I'd been dancing anywhere), and the cheap drinks. I only paid for my first drink, before I was immediately befriended by a drunk guy who looked like Nelly and was generous with the drinks. The music turned out to be terrible: I'd host a better party with my Ipod on shuffle, but I decided to dance anyway. I was drunk, and would never see these people again. I was promptly dance-molested by practically every guy on the dance floor (all of the ladies know what I'm talking about). And when I say "every guy" I mean the military guys. So I started dancing with the one Korean guy there, and he was much nicer, and a better dancer, than all of them.
Midnight rolls around, and I left the club with a random Nigerian in tow, to meet Guillaume. He wasn't there. So I called him to see where he was. "I'm still on the bus," he tells me. Now why on earth would he take the bus to get around in Seoul? The subway system is much faster and efficient, especially at this time of the night. So I raise this point with him. "No, I'm not on the Seoul system, I'm still on the bus from Jinju," he explains. So let me lay this out for you: he wasn't even IN Seoul anymore when I called him. Instead of saying, "No thanks, I just came back from Seoul yesterday," he shells out the money for a three hour bus ride back to Seoul. To arrive at midnight. For like one drink. Who the hell does this? Sad, desperate people, that's who.
So he eventually gets to Seoul and we go to some bar owned by Canadians, called the Rocky Mountain Tavern. At this point, I'm totally toasted and sort of weirded out by Guillaume. Nice bar, and it had an autographed picture of the Trews, which I thought was pretty cool. So we have one drink, the Nigerian goes home, and Guillome has nowhere to stay. I ended up getting a room with two beds, since it's hard to find single-bed rooms in Korea, so I reluctantly offer the extra bed to him. He agrees to stay. In the hotel, he tries to massage my shoulders. He's always trying to semi-put the moves on me, but I have the feeling that he has never successfully put the moves on a female EVER. I immediately rebuff him and get into bed. He gets into his bed and then he wants to TALK. I rarely use chat lingo, but I think this is an appropriate place to insert an OMG. I pretended to fall asleep.
In the morning, he wanted to hang out, but I wanted to shop, so I told him to hit the road (sort of nicer than that, but not really). So after I got rid of him, I decided to stop at McDonalds for a quick, cheap breakfast. Itaewon has one of the only McDonalds in Korea that serves the McDonalds breakfast, incidentally. The place was lousy with loud, annoying Americans. I suddenly realized where the obnoxious American stereotype comes from, and I wanted to distance myself from it, quickly. I found myself avoiding the other foreigners for the entire day, even though part of my purpose in going to Seoul was to meet new people. Instead, I spent an hour talking to a Korean guy who owns his own art studio, but does those 15 minute paintings on the street. He made me a lovely little name painting. Very cool. Then I hung out with some Korean guys in track suits beatboxing in front of a shoe store.
Eventually, I went to an Egyptian restaurant (good food, but overpriced) and went back home. I ended up sitting in one of the four-seater sections of the bus with a mom and her two kids. The seat I had bought was right in the middle of their seats, so I moved so they could all be together. At the rest stop, they got off the bus, and I stayed put, because I always have a secret fear that I'll get back on the wrong bus or it will leave without me or something. Silly, I know. The mom returned with a bottle of water for me and a fishcake! (Not as disgusting as it sounds, it's just bread shaped like a fish with red bean paste in the center.) As I was sitting there smiling to myself about the random act of kindness, I realized that I'm actually much happier when surrounded by Koreans, even though we have communication issues. Suddenly, I felt a sense of peace about living in Korea for a year, and in such a remote area of the country. Being surrounded by Westerners all weekend made me realize four things:
1. I shouldn't count on finding more Western friends as the answer to my problems.
2. Most of my problems were stemming from the fact that I thought I needed more Western people in my life, but I don't.
3. I don't like very many people.
4. I'm happy here.
When I got back home, my friend Hyun came over and we watched the CSI marathon on OCN. I about flipped my shit when the channel had a commercial for the Matrix that mashed up scenes from the movie with the song "Kung Fu Fighting." It was just about the funniest thing I have ever seen. And Hyun promised to find me some good Korean movies with English subtitles. He's a nice guy: I met him through the family that barely speaks English I met my first weekend here. They didn't want me to be lonely, so they introduced me to Hyun and his brother. Between the two of them, they have the best English speaking abilities that I've run into in this particular region.
Oh, and pro tip: Never, ever tell a Korean person that your potatoes have eyes. It will baffle the shit out of them.