Archive This is where the archive starts. Entries are listed chronologically, earliest to latest. 2004 June 9-11 - Well, at least the guitar made it. After untold hours in the plane, I landed at Incheon International Airport dazed, confused, and jet-lagged beyond belief. It didn't take long for me to run into my first problem: lost luggage. After wandering around the baggage claim carousels for a while I found the lost and found table and without even trying to speak Korean I explained my predicament. The baggage was delivered the next day, but at the time I feared this would be a sign of further problems to come. Fortunately it wasn't; I met my family friend at the airport with ease, and we drove from the airport to downtown Seoul. I remember thinking during the car ride that everything seemed vaguely familiar but slightly different from America. The road signs were the familiar white text on green, and even the highway symbol was shaped like the American interstate logo. The cars were mostly Hundais and Kias, but I had seen plenty of those on American roads. Billboards touted familiar companies: Samsung, LG, etc., and most sported plenty of English text. But of course, there was the hangeul on all the signs, license plates, and roads. So where was I--in South Korea, or in a very large Koreatown in an American city? My temporary Korean host has been very hostitable and helpful. I honestly don't know how I would be getting by without her. Before I arrived she went hasook (boarding house) shopping and found me the best deal on a place with air conditioning (a must have in the hot Korean summers). We stopped by, looked around, met the ajumma (landlady/cook), and dropped off my guitar (the only piece of checked luggage that made it--go figure). The next day, after sleeping soundly from 10pm-6am, she took me to Hana Unhaeng (Hana Bank) to open a checking account. Would I have been able to do all this--get from the airport to Seoul, find a place to stay, and open a checking account--on my own? Maybe, but surely not without extreme difficulty. So far, the experience has been pleasant, although I haven't been left to my own devices yet. Even when speaking with the family I'm staying with, I feel very self-conscious about my lack of Korean skills and generally stick to English. I do practice with them a bit, but I have yet to encounter a situation where I have no other option but to speak Korean. I'm sure that will change once I move into the hasook. And once I've been unleashed, Seoul will never be the same. 2004 June 13 - Lost in translation? A few interesting cross-cultural moments: The other day I was fortunate to shop at two of Korea's most ancient and traditional marketplaces: Costco and Wal Mart. True to Confucian principals, I shopped with confidence and saved a bundle. Karaoke was, well, you've seen the movies, it was karaoke. Except in Korea it's called "norae bang," which translates literally as "song room." For those of you unfamiliar with Asian-style karaoke, instead of one person singing to the entire bar and subjecting everyone to his/her wailing, a group of friends sings in a small room and thus limits the damage inflicted to a smaller scale. I was pleasantly surprised to find "Wig in a Box" from the musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch. What it was doing in a karaoke machine in a country that still regards homosexuality (to say nothing of transexuality) as taboo is beyond me, but nevertheless, I channeled my inner East German drag queen and belted the tune out. 2004 June 14-15 - Lost in translation, part 2 Wow. First day on my own in Seoul. After dealing with the immigration office, I moved into my hasook and am now on my own. For my first dinner, I had a pleasant albeit ill-communicated conversation with three Korean-Japanese students. The next day I continued in my personal Tower of Babel. Several shops and restaurants had the dubious honor of entertaining my business and see the blank stare that I save for those foolish enough to try to speak Korean to me. Lesson learned? I can barely speak Korean; hell, I'm not even sure if the little Korean I do know is helping me at all right now.
2004 June 14-15 - Family Matters, or Lost in Translation, part 3. So, have you ever wondered what it would be like if you had to meet your uncle and aunt--your father's brother and his wife--for the first time, and they didn't speak English? OK, you probably haven't, but I'd been worrying about how I would deal with that exact situation. Today, I found out what it's like. At around 5:30, after a mostly unsucessful day of shopping (for goods and free wireless Internet), I was sitting in my room when I heard voices outside my door, then a knock. Sure enough, it's my uncle and aunt (chagun aboji and chagun omoni, respectively). I had talked to my uncle briefly on the phone shortly after arriving, but since I could barely understand him, I politely excused myself and handed the phone right back to my Korean host. I hadn't talked to him since, so I was very surprised to find them at my door. I didn't even know exactly what they looked liked, but we made the connection quickly. Of course we were related. I could see a lot of my dad in this middle aged Korean man standing before me. To call the experience surreal would be an understatement. My uncled bowed, my aunt gave me an affectionate hug, and we sat down for the next hour or so in confused, jumbled conversation. I showed them my graduation pictures and my iPod; they tried to connect with their long-lost and thoroughly confused nephew. I'm writing this less than thirty minutes after they've left, and I'm still trying to digest the experience. This man had grown up with my dad, had seen him off to Vietnam, had seen him off to America. I'd never met him until today. Well, at least I know the second meeting won't be as weird. But hey, what can you expect from family? 2004 June 17 - After one week, still alive. Today I've been in Seoul for one week, although I've seen and done so much it feels like it's been two weeks or longer. My spoken Korean has definitely improved some; now, when people stop me on the street and ask for directions, I can with some degree of fluency tell them that I am sorry but I don't speak Korean well. Highlights so far:
Not-so-highlights:
Also, today I met Prof. Choi, head of the Korean Department at Yale, and the other three Light Fellows in Seoul for dinner. Perhaps more beneficial to my spirits than the company (which was delightful--shout out to Jackie, Susan, Greg, and Choi Seunsaengnim) was the fact that I was able to follow most of the Korean conversation and participate a little myself. Granted, we were speaking somewhat slower than native speakers do, but I certainly came out of the dinner a little more confident in my ability to learn this language.
L-R: Susan Kim, Greg Weiner, Jackie Kim, Prof. Choi,
Mark Lee. A motley crew if there e'er was one. 2004 June 19 - Fortunate Son. Seoul's War Memorial Museum--where history comes alive! It's cliche, I know, but that's what happened when I stepped into the Vietnam War exhibit there. I'd written my History senior thesis at Yale on Korean soldiers in Vietnam, and my dad served in the Korean army in Vietnam; I was overwhelmed to see my dad's unit flag, old manuscripts and literature from his unit, and other various wartime memorabilia. Suddenly all these things I'd only read and heard about were present before me, with all their tattered edges and jungle dirt-smudged surfaces. Other highlights included hanging out with a fellow Yalie (holla, Yoon Jee!) who I'd met randomly on the street earlier in the week, dashing in and out of the rain near Hongik University, and browsing through the huge Yongsan electronics store. On a side note, I've noticed the constant presence of at least a few Korean Army soldiers in most public places (in the subway, on the street, etc.). The impact on a society of fifty years of compulsory military service must be astounding. See those fifty year old well-dressed businessmen? They were in the army. See the punked-out college student? He just recently got out of, or soon will go into the army. See the ten year old playing with toys and watching cartoons? In all likelihood, he, too, will go into the army. It's food for thought, and certainly should be motivation for politicians the world over to work towards Korean unification. OK, enough of the weighty political stuff. I now present to you the unofficial mascot of traditional, authentic Korean cuisine:
I think he looks a bit like Kim Jong Il. But I bet Ol' Kim doesn't cook fried chicken as well as "Colonel Sanders Ajosshi." -MSL 2004 June 23 - Just awful. Today, the city awoke to the tragic news that Kim Sun-il, a Korean citizen who had been taken hostage by Iraqi insurgents, was beheaded by his captors. When I rode the subway in the morning, the TV monitors, which usually show commercials, sports, and entertainment, now showed nonstop news coverage of the terrible event. Later in the day, Koreans took to the streets to protest the man's death, the government's percieved failure to save his life, and the deployment of 3,000 troops to Iraq. I shared in the city's grief today; the image of the poor, innocent Korean man blinfolded and surrounded by masked, armed Iraqi terrorists is something I won't forget any time soon. There are no easy answers to difficult questions in this difficult time. The War in Iraq has been a tragedy, a triumph, a victory, and a defeat at the same time and in different ways. Some could say that an innocent Korean died a preventable death today, and there is no doubt that his death marks another tragic chapter in the story of this war. The opinion of this college educated American living in Seoul is that governments, including the South Korean government, should never cede to the demands of terrorists. Of course, it's easy for me to say that; I'm not part of the weeping, hysterically grieving family shown on TV and on the newspapers. "The government killed my son," the father is quoted as saying. Still, newspapers quote experts as predicting that the slaying will actually increase the support for the South Korean dispatch. Read more here. What can I say? The whole damn thing, it's just awful. -MSL 2004 June 24 - Pictures + class + theft
2004 June 26 - "Tell me, what's going on?"
I wasn't planning on being anywhere near tonight's protest; in fact, I had every intention of heeding my embassy's advice and avoiding anything that looked remotely like an Anti-American protest. But dinner and sightseeing with my Korean friends had brought us to central Seoul, where a massive vigil/protest was underway. Curiosity got the best of me, and before I had time to question the direction of our movement I found myself in the middle of the largest demonstration I'd ever witnessed. The embassy estimated a crowd of 10,000 would be in attendance, but the sheer number of people was only a small part of what made this scene so remarkable. First, there was the police. To say they were out in force would be a gross understatement. Not only was this the largest group of demonstrators I had seen in one place, this was also the largest group of policemen I'd seen in one place. In the distance, I could hear them shouting in unison military-style; they were clearly ready to move on the crowd at moments notice. My Korean friends assured me that the demonstration would remain peaceful and that our safety was not in question, but the police seemed less sure of this. Now, when I say "police," I should say "paramilitary security force." These were not the pot-bellied, moustached policemen Americans are familiar with. These "police" were dressed in black uniforms and black jackboots and carried plexiglass shields. They stood at attention in perfect formation, just oozing intimidation. And then there was the demonstration itself. Part religious revival, part political diatribe, and part KISS concert, the proceedings mixed politics with performance art to create something truly unique and truly powerful. Shortly after we arrived, the protesters ran a video that set dramatic music to the shocking footage of Kim Sun-il pleading desparately for his life in the presence of his Iraqi captors. His gasping, desparate plea, delivered in broken English, is something I will never forget. This was followed by an interpretive dance set to mournful traditional Korean music...and the sound of helicopters and machine guns. The male dancer held a boquet of flowers in his hand and intermittently put them to his face to smell them. The rest of his routine was largely occupied with him wrenching in response to the machine gun sound effects as if he were being shot. The message of this was loud and clear: the America, by instigating the war against Iraq, was responsible for Kim Sun-il's death. I tried to ponder this brash accusation, but the massive torches held by the dancer now commanded my attention (this is the KISS concert part). As the flames raged against the night's darkness, the music reached an orgasmic climax of sorrow. Eventually the dance/fire routine came to an end, and a speaker launched into a tirade agains the Korean and American goverments. "Sal go shipoyo," he led the crowd in shouting. "I/we want to live" - a rough Korean translation of Kim's plea. Around this point I decided I had seen enough, and we left the scene. My Korean friends expressed their hope that I wouldn't "get the wrong impression" about Korea from the protest and that it represented a somewhat extreme, or shall I say "less nuanced" view of a complex and controversial situation. I was certainly aware of the complexity of the situation and its accompanying public opinion and that many Koreans supported the troop deployment as a result of Kim's death (for more on the Korean reaction, I suggest this New York Times article). I've spent the rest of the evening digesting these events and trying to put them into words. Perhaps the greatest effect of the demonstration for me was that it made very real the concept of "Anti-Americanism." Reading about "Anti-American sentiments" in the Middle East or Europe is one thing; it is an entirely different thing to see thousands of protesters and a torch-wielding dancer express their disapproval of the War in Iraq, the Bush administration, and South Korea's plan to dispatch troops to Iraq. Hours later, I'm still unable to put my finger on exactly how I feel about the demonstration. Aside from the immediate shock value of the moment, I've felt a mixture of frustration at the United States for its actions in Iraq, frustration at the protesters for misappropriating Kim's statements (clearly made under duress) and unfairly placing the blame for his death almost solely on the United States, and anger at the sick bastards who killed this poor innocent man. I unfortunately don't have any pictures; I left my camera home that day. Still, no pictures, or video, for that matter, could have conveyed the full weight of this experience. These words, too, are probably inadequate, but hey, I have to try. -MSL 2004 June 28 - Random Updates
Read the June 26 post if you haven't yet. -MSL |
