Adventuring

So I planned out my weekend Friday night - I decided to go exploring on Saturday, and talk to my family on Sunday. I thought that would give me a no-stress, relaxing time before classes started on Monday. Eek! I was placed by myself into Beginning Intensive Korean with no other English speakers – just me and the Chinese. I knew the classroom number ahead of time, but not the building, which was not just a little stressful, because this campus is so unbelievable huge. I thought that I couldn't afford to miss one minute of class time, for fear of falling behind and not being able to catch up. No other first semester student has attempted this program, but they are giving me a chance to try. I also had no idea where the class would start, as far the language goes, and therefore didn't know what to study for. Oh my goodness, nerves!

Saturday morning I jumped on the subway and went only one stop before hopping off again to go take pictures at that outdoor market I discovered when I was lost the other day. I didn’t feel right about just snapping away with abandon, because the atmosphere doesn’t really permit it, if you’re paying attention to the people. In Korea, there are so many tiny shops or spaces, and they are crowded with whatever wares are being sold. It seems at first that these things are just sitting out where they’d be vulnerable to theft or damage, but not so! In ALL cases, someone is watching you like a hawk every moment that you are in proximity to something they sell. It makes for an intimidating shopping experience. Window shopping is awkward, because sometimes no less than three people are staring at you intensely, waiting to respond to any word or minute gesture you may display that indicates you want something they have. Plus, at this particular outdoor market, the walkway is very small, and very crowded. Occasionally motorcycles or scooters come flying through, honking and causing people to dive for the sides. I felt that I would have had to be very rude to just walk along and take pictures without asking, since they were standing there staring at me, and when I did ask, most people were not willing to be in the picture, or have their products photographed. So I’m a bit ashamed of the quality of the photos I have – they are more like an account ledgers than a true representation of the beauty I saw. I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings or pride, though, and I will keep working on this, and find a way to do better before I come home.

                       

                                 

Various roots, honeys, and things for sale.

I found roasted chestnuts! I have been looking for them since I got here! I was so excited when I heard they were popular in Korea, and they are so yummy! I first learned about them when I was little, from that Nat King Cole song, and for some reason they’ve been something I craved every since. Mom used to let me buy them sometimes, but I always cooked them wrong and they exploded – so I’ve only really had them a handful of times.

A man sat on the street over a tiny charcoal fire, turning and turning them with tongs, while a woman sold them, about ten or twelve for two thousand won, which is a little less than two dollars. I didn’t know how to order these in Korean, so I held out the money I wanted to spend, and she put the amount of chestnuts that she was willing to part with for that price into a small paper bag for me. I could not stop smiling, honestly. So much fun!

I made my way back to the subway, and ran into someone I know, which was very bizarre. What are the chances? I was in a different city, and the timing – very cool.

Back at the station, I had just missed my train, so it was another half hour on a hard cold bench. It gave me time to practice reading the station signs and to double check that I was on the right line. The city I was trying to get to, Suwon, was many stops down the line, but I had all day.

Eventually, three old men shuffled toward my bench, and I rose so that they would sit. They violently protested this, and had a very loud, very funny conversation about which two would sit with me, and which one would have the honor of standing. The youngest won, due to his undeniable arguing skills, and he went to buy me coffee, while the oldest one practiced his English, which was good, as was the coffee.  I complimented him, and he insisted that I was wrong and his English was very poor, but he seemed pleased. He absolutely reeked of alcohol, and I was mildly worried that I’d gotten myself into a dead end situation. I’m determined to be extremely polite, to make up for what I can’t communicate, and was desperately hoping he would be well-behaved, and spare me an awkward exit scene. As it turned out, these three men were my self-appointed body guards, almost all the way to Suwon.

I was approached by a man from Uganda, who said he was a missionary, and wanted to know where I was going. The moment I volunteered the information, I knew I shouldn’t have. He began asking about whether or not I had friends there, whether or not I was alone, and whether or not I would give him my number. I declined, and asked him to leave, and I knew that I would have to lose him when I got off at the station, or he could be trouble. (And I did – you should have seen me. I was a total ninja. I pulled on my big black hood to hide my hair, because it stands out for blocks here, ducked into a crowd, and joined the flow of traffic that led away from the exit. I didn’t see him again.)The old men glared at him the whole time he asked his questions, and they stayed close to me. Very threatening, I’m sure J

The subway system is quite cheap, which leads to several interesting dynamics. First of all, the Korean people that tend to ride it are either poor or students. It is insanely crowded, and therefore has its own distinctive smell. I was pretty tentative about inhaling, there for a while, but that kind of thing is difficult to maintain for long periods of time. So I played a game with myself, and decided to concentrate on what smells I could identify. Garlic, good god – it’s everywhere. Kimchi, charcoal, and sometimes fish. Also, something I call “Old Man Smell”, which is pungent, and laced with cigarettes, but not unpleasant.

Everyone loves to hear that I am from America, and even more so California. I think it gives them a feeling of being educated about the world and where things are, because they have all heard of those places. I’m glad I’m not most recently from Kalispell, Montana, or Arizona, because those locations would not be met with the oohs and ahhs of my current hometown J I know how to say I’m a student, which elicits more praise, and that I like to take pictures, which may bring a photo op or a look of fear!

Getting a seat on a subway is an event, and giving one up is a miracle. The station that our school is at is the end of the line, and rural, so if we start from there and go in to the cities, we will always have a seat, because the train comes from the city, empties, and turns around. When we arrive at a station, however, the boarding zones are crowded with people who are bunched and tensed to spring. Those who are getting on throw themselves onto the train and into the nearest available seat. The old women are especially sneaky, and you can find yourself somehow on top of one, who’s shrieking about how you stole her chair, when you never even got up, and she just got on! There is no such rule as “those who are on get off first, and those who are boarding wait”. No. Everyone gets on and off at the same time, which is ineffective, time consuming, and funny, because the doors are not very wide.

- As a side note, this is how they cross streets here, as well. Have you seen the movies of, or been to, New York City? You know how the corners of an intersection hold a massive crowd of business men and women who don’t drive, carrying their brief cases and coffees, unable to be contained by the sidewalks? Same thing here, except that the crowds on both sides of the street face each other, tensed and ready, and when the walk light comes on, they run at each other like the battle scenes in Braveheart. I kid you not. If you don’t duck your head and plow like a line backer, you will be forced backward to where you started. There is no being nice; you must push, shove and fight your way across the street before the light turns red, because pedestrians do not have the right of way here, and the cars will run you over or bump you. And the honking!! It’s very different.

For the time being, I, myself, would rather stand than push my way into a seat on the subway. I may eventually adapt to seeing this behavior as something other than rude, but right now, I can’t do it. My three old men, however, fought a space for me and gestured wildly until I took it, and we rode, smashed together, for about two and a half hours. They nodded off a few times, and we all endured a salesman together, who was loud, annoying, and pushy as he walked through each car, and the time passed. When it was time for them to leave, they bowed many times,  and waved and smiled at me until my train was out of sight. Everyone else in the car stared, wondering, I’m sure, what we could possibly have in common. I was sad to see them go, and waved the whole time as well.

I was almost asleep when I suddenly realized I’d heard the name of my station. I had to collect my things quickly in a mad dash out the doors, and then remember to escape from the missionary, so I ended up in Suwon station a bit flustered.

I ducked into a restroom and locked myself in a stall to pull it together...

 I’m just sitting here shaking my head. How to describe this to you? The place is massive. I wasn’t prepared at all. Suwon is where the World Cup Stadium is, and so, like Seoul, this city’s appearance is built to impress, and it does. There are many stories of shops above and below ground at the station, with all the selection and entertainment you could hope for. Coach, Prada, IMAX, etc. I spun around in circles for a bit, trying to take it all in, and then decided that I should take care of buying my ticket home before I went exploring. That way I would know how much time I had to explore, and would be able to find where I was supposed to get on the train when the time came to leave. I decided to take the Nooriro home instead of the subway. It’s not the bullet train, but it’s a train nevertheless, and faster than what I came on. It would take about an hour, instead of the all-day commuter event I had just experienced. The ticketing machine for the Nooriro wouldn’t take my card or my money, for some reason, so I had to go stand in a line that reminded me of scenes in movies I’ve seen of the New York Stock Exchange. It was loud, long, crowded, and full of shoving, stressed, harried people who were late for something. I’m proud to tell you that I was able to hold my own in line, and buy a ticket home, on the correct train and to the correct station, at a later time than “first available” - all in Korean, and I know I got it right because I made it home! Yay me! Having that settled made me feel better and less unsure, and I set out to play.

I found a tourist information station, and a person who spoke English, and she showed me which bus I should take to which stop in order to see the fortress I had come to see. It’s called the Suwon Hwaseong Fortress. It was late in the day, and I was wanting to take pictures, so I set about going straight there. I found the station and the right bus, but when I muscled my way on, the bus driver wouldn’t let me board. I didn’t understand what was wrong, so I went back to the tourist information station. It turns out, I had to have either exact change, or a T-money card, which is what I use for the subway system. It’s reloadable and very handy. I went back, armed with the proper payment form, and boarded the bus of another angel.

When I got on, I asked the driver if I was on the right bus for the fortress, and he nodded and sat me directly behind himself. He then proceeded to give me a tour of the city, despite the other passengers on the bus, and despite the other vehicles on the road. You can’t believe it, it was so funny. He would stop the bus in the middle of the road, and we’re talking, bumper to bumper, eight-lane, holiday weekend traffic, here. He would gesture and talk, and point out the window, and I kept thinking he was telling me that this was my stop. I would stand, and he would push me back down and keep talking. I “oohed” and “ahhed” appropriately, and tried as hard as I could to understand him, but I had absolutely no idea what he was telling me. Finally we did get to my stop, and he spent a long time telling me which way to go. I thanked him very much, got off the bus, and went the wrong way. He jerked the bus to a stop in the middle of the street again, opened the doors, and loudly set me straight. Once again, I couldn’t stop smiling.

The palace part of the fortress was about to close. 

Between you and I, it wasn’t as impressive as the one I’d seen in Seoul with Shelley, and I didn't really spend much time in there. However, there was an ancient wall that went up the mountain, and all along the wall were watchtowers and gates, built so many hundreds of years ago! With the light fading, I ran to catch some good shots.

I ran up all those steps, starting from the street! 

I need to find out exactly how far that was. I know if I guess at a number it will be silly. All I can tell you for sure is that I may have come close to dying, but I got to the top in time to take a few shots of the buildings, the city below, and the wall. It was breathtaking. It was also very windy and cold. I stood for a long time, just staring out over the panorama, trying to understand where I am and what I've done. It's so very, very strange to do something you've wanted to do for so long. It hits me, occasionally.

I asked a couple to take my picture for me, and we ended up conversing for quite some time. 

Behind me, if you know what to look for, is the World Cup Stadium.

My  new friends.

The lady had been to school in Ohio, in the states, and spoke wonderful English. Her husband was very knowledgeable about the history of the area, and I was fascinated. We talked together for a long time while their kids played. They are excited about my opportunity to be a student here, and want to help me. We exchanged information, and I now have a lovely family contact in Suwon, South Korea. I can’t stand how beautiful everyone has been to me. I’m a bit overwhelmed with the kindness and generosity I’ve been shown. What an experience!

The lookout station for this portion of the wall.

When I was through taking pictures, and done being cold, I walked down the mountain and got myself a taxi. I was able to direct him to the station and pay him the correct amount of money, which still thrills me no end J It was a long taxi ride, and I think we both wished so much that we could talk to each other. The air was electric with wishing, and finally he couldn’t stand it, and turned on his tv. It made me more determined than ever to learn to express myself, and to be able to listen and understand.

I had some time to kill at the station before my train was due to leave, so I splurged a little on dinner, and ate grilled duck. I also tasted my first bad kimchi, an experience I’m proud to say I recognized. There was a time, not too long ago, when I thought it was all bad.

I made it home and took a taxi to my dorm with a young couple who are here for a year to teach English together. These small Asian countries are up-and-coming economic power players, who must rely on business relations with other countries for their national resources. Learning English, and also Western customs, are vitally important to them, and they are willing to spend lots of money to bring people to tutor their students in these subjects. You can hear the wheels in my head turning, I’m sure ;)

When I arrived back at my dorm, my Korean roommate had arrived. She is a lovely soul, and I can’t wait to tell you about her and her friends, the bath house, and my first day of classes.

TTFN

Grace

Self-portrait ;)