Full of Seoul

Happily, I returned to Seoul, one of my favorite urban sprawls—so modern, clean and fascinating. This time I am pleased to announce that no snow remained from the horrendous downfall I experienced in January. All that remained was the familiar sight of concrete and rainy tracks of human habitation. I cannot say that the weather was fantastic as it rained or threatened to rain for the entire week, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself in spite of the less than perfect climatic conditions.
With an express purpose of visiting my friend from high school, Amy, and of discovering/conquering the surrounding mountains that dot Seoul and create a unique skyline, I landed in Seoul with my mom early in the morning. My mom and I stayed together, lounging at a Dunkin’ Doughnuts, until she had to return to the terminal for her 12-hour flight back to the States. Having communicated at a late date with Amy, I was unsure of what would happen when I reached her town of Uijeongbu on the outskirts of metro Seoul. I had not received a reply to the details that I had given her, so I entered the bus with a serious prayer on my lips: God, please let Amy be there to meet me or give me the directional sense to remember how to get to her apartment.
Amy was not there to meet me, so with my head held high, I disembarked into the semi-familiar urban setting, in which I had passed a full week. Thankfully, the Lord really answered my prayer and gave me the right sense of direction. (Like I said, this was a serious prayer for someone who, when given two directions of right and wrong, will 95 percent of the time choose the wrong direction.) I arrived at Amy’s apartment building in record time; however no one was home. Immediately and probably stupidly I thought that maybe Amy and I had crossed paths and just did not recognize one another. (This was also quite fanciful considering I was the only foreigner to grace the streets of Uijeongbu the entire week I stayed there—at least as far as I could perceive.) With my huge nearly 20-kilo pack on my back and my heavy backpack strapped to my front, I walked back to the bus terminal, carefully roving my eyes through the crowds on both sides of the streets to locate Amy, who never materialized.
Next, I made the decision to go back to her apartment and wait. After all, she had to come back eventually. (It was Sunday night and she had class the next morning. It was a safe bet.) I was a little cold since it was only about 50 degrees and I had just come from 90-degree weather in the Philippines. I settled in to watch a movie when I discovered that there was a wifi signal in the hallway! At least I could amuse myself on the internet and thankfully I had that Internet signal because Amy had logged on to Facebook and discovered my many messages in time to give me her phone number and tell me where she was: on a weekend trip to see the pretty cherry blossoms that were erupting in enchanting beauty all over Korea at this time of the year. So funny! We had completely missed one another.
I left the building and called her from a 7-Eleven phone because the pay phone did not want to accept my money. Koreans are so nice even though very few speak English. With a few hand motions, the girl at the counter dialed the number and smiled at me in encouragement. How nice! After discussing with Amy her arrival time, I decided to find a warm place to finish my movie. Once my movie was done and I had sent some e-mails, I returned the hallway of Amy’s apartment building to make a little campsite for myself because I was quite sleep deprived. I got out my sleeping bag and like a little homeless woman I stepped inside and with my sarong over my head, fell asleep only to be awoken by a little Korean man saying something in Korean. I can only imagine what he was saying, “Why are you here? Do you know the person in 404? Is she there? Why are you sleeping in my hallway? Who are you?” He left me alone and I fell back asleep, but he returned and let me into her apartment! I was kind of confused, but hey, I wasn’t going to pass up the offer of better accommodations. I planned to tell Amy that she would need to discuss security with the manager because that seemed awfully open. I mean he didn’t even know me. How could he be certain I actually knew Amy? Come to find out, he had contacted her and asked if she knew that there was a girl sleeping outside of her apartment, which she explained and he came to the rescue. Hilarious! What a funny lesson in the importance of communication and confirmation of plans!
I just had to record that whole episode because I find it to be so characteristic of the way I travel: never knowing quite how things are going to turn out, even when things seem planned and arranged. I am sure you will be reading many more of my misadventures over the next few months. Like I mentioned before, Seoul is one of my favorite cities. There is everything you could ever want: great and cheap food, a flawless metro, clean streets, interesting people, mountains, a river and stream scenic area, forests, and everything else urban centers offer curious denizens and determined visitors alike.
This visit, however, was much different than my first visit. I wanted to hike the mountains that so gracefully hug this city. They were a curiosity and a tease the last time I visited. Obviously, they were a little impenetrable during the snowstorm, but this time around, nothing was stopping me from exploring as many slopes as time allowed. Amy told me that “san” means mountain, so I could pretty much get off at any metro stop that ended in “san” and find a mountain to hike. In her words, “They’re everywhere!” I concentrated my time in Bukansan National Park, which is extremely rich in beautiful and challenging trails—not for the faint of heart! Then, on my final day, I explored Soyosan, which has a day’s worth of out-and-back trails, meaning less circular and better explored by going up then straight back down.
Hiking and exploring mountainous trails by oneself is exhilarating. Not only did I get lost and almost broke my ankle on several occasions, but also I had time to clear my heart and mind, speak out loud to God the Creator of the natural allure of the fauna that pleasantly affronted all my senses. For the majority of my hikes, there was nothing but nature, God and little ole me. It was glorious. I remember telling my friend, Lisa, that I wanted nothing more than to be lost in a national park and try to survive on my own. When I contemplated that statement again, I laughed to myself and realized that I would probably not make it out alive. But, the idea is still comely.
The first day, I ripped my pants when I fell into a leafy crag because I had somehow deviated from the not-well-marked trail and ended up climbing or rather shuffling down a mild gorge. By the time I figured out 100 percent that the path I was on was certainly not a path, I was too far-gone and had no desire to fight a literal uphill battle to retrace my steps. I battled with the forest nemeses of loose rocks, decaying branches and deep leaf-filled holes, into which I had the unfortunate chance of falling. At least the only injury was a little rip in the pants, which enlarged the next day, completely exposing my pink underwear and “alabaster” skin :) Good thing I was wearing underwear otherwise the well-meaning Koreans would have really had a field day. (On half a dozen occasions, a Korean woman or a group of women alerted me to the fact that my pants were ripped. Yes, I know, I feel the unexpected breeze! It was so nice, though, that they would take the time to tell a foreigner that her pants are damaged, especially since they never actually communicated in English. I s poke in English as if they comprehended and they spoke in Korean as if I understood their language. It is actually quite humorous to pretend as if cross-cultural communication is natural if not a given reality. For casual encounters, I think that smiles and hand gestures go a long way.
In the middle of the week, I made my way into metro Seoul to pay a visit to the Delta office to confirm my around the world pass bookings. (I was almost not given a seat on the Manila to Seoul flight because Delta had failed to send a confirmation to Korean Air regarding my ticket details. I was furious, but thankfully the Lord provided and I got a seat right next to my mom and was fine.) The morning was going splendidly. I had meandered along the Cheonggycheon Stream, which is a manmade stream that cuts through some of the most happening neighborhoods in Seoul. Having read in my guidebook that there was a market right off of the stream that had some of the best street food in Seoul, I made a beeline for the market, and I had just taken a seat to enjoy one of the largest potato pancake I have ever seen when I realized I had forgotten my money, plane tickets and passport at Amy’s. I had left behind every single thing I needed for that day in Seoul! I bolted up from my seat with an apology to the women who had begun to prepare my pancake and made my way to the nearest subway, which was thankfully on my line. It took me two hours to retrieve the documents and to make it back into Seoul. I had wasted so much time, but it could have been worse.
The next problem was trying to locate the Delta office, which was a challenge given the fact that I only had an obscure address and no specific knowledge of the city. They had given me loose directions of which metro to take and which exit to utilize. Of course, with my directionally challenged personality, I managed to take 45 minutes to get there and not without the help of a very kind gentleman at the art museum who printed off a close-up map of the building I was seeking. Once the Delta agent addressed my problem of confirming all my reservations, I felt much better and very happy I had redressed this problem in Korea because people tend to be quite courteous and thorough as opposed to phone operators who lean towards aloof and forlorn. I left with a lightness in my step as I hurried toward Cheonggycheon Stream with one thought on my mind: potato pancakes.
It might seem silly that all I could think of the entire time was how I had missed out on ordering those delicious pancakes in the market. I had decided that I would get them no matter what time it was. Thanks to my long legs and the speed of determination, I made it to the market in no time, sat down and ordered my pancake. (Steve, I thought of you when I saw these pancakes. I relished the eating of this monstrous delicacy and it was so yummy. When I get home, I should try to replicate it. I think there is some cabbage and green onions along with the traditional potatoes. It was fabulous!) So all in all, I had successfully accomplished what I had set out to do and delighted in my market experience.
To conclude, one of the best parts of the week was the evening time when Amy and I met up—she coming home from work and me arriving from the mountaintop—to run in preparation for her 10k on Sunday and to have dinner at a small Korean restaurant near her place. Amy is very fortunate to live close to a stream that has an exquisitely paved running and cycling path on either side. We suited up and I luxuriated in the fact that I was able to wear a sweatshirt! I have not worn a sweatshirt in three months, and it was quite agreeable. After getting cleaned up, Amy would take me to her favorite little Korean restaurant, which quickly became my favorite as well for three reasons: 1) it was cheap; 2) the ladies running the joint were really nice and congenial; 3) all Korean restaurants serve the same thing so when number one and number two apply, in my mind, there is no reason to frequent another establishment. We had some great conversations over traditional foods like ramen, chicken fried steak—Amy’s favorite for some unknown reason, sushi-esque roll-ups, sticky rice cakes in a spicy red sauce and mandu—steamed dumplings with filling like spicy cabbage called kimchi, along with side dishes of pickled radish, kimchi and soybean broth. Delicious! I will miss Korean food although it is not particularly varied in nature. They pretty much pack, roll, fry, dunk and skewer the same ingredients. At least it’s cheap and pretty nutritious. What a great week of contemplation, adventure and good old-fashioned fellowship. I am so glad that I was able to return to such a great place and lap up its remaining treasures.