surfaceofseoul

[surfaceofseoul]

Things you take, and things you leave behind

Every trip nourishes with new experiences, new voices, smells, flavors, new hope. In return it's an opportunity to unburden yourself of at least a little ignorance, anxiety, disappointment, and weariness. This being our second visit to Seoul, we had hoped to scratch a little below the surface-level-look at this magnificent city. Last time we did the big tourist attractions. This time we tried to settle into a routine, to just "live a little", and enjoy the city as if it were home.

It's been such a refreshing reminder that there are places where a healthy social contract and norms persist, even while evolving. Where modernization balances with respect for and preservation of the past, and the natural world. Where critical systems are prioritized, maintained and functional.

And where there are damn good tattoo artists, despite the art being technically illegal.

Kamsahamnida, Seoul. Until next time!

Coffee shops are EVERYWHERE, not just every block, but several on each block. I fell hard for the grapefruit tea with crushed ice from Paik's Coffee. Virtually every food establishment uses ordering kiosks, which brilliantly solve multiple issues: Translation, since there are images; one less person to take orders or manage a cash register; some stores are completely self-serve with no human staff, thanks to the kiosk. Twists on translation on signs come out wonderfully quirky.

Bullet-rail runs with set-your-watch accuracy, to clean, well organized stations. Look up for a reminder that you are firmly in the 21st century. Every night is Friday and the energy is electric on the Jonggnak Street of Youth.

Modern worship in ancient temples of timeless belief.

Hedging against evil with a traditional mask tattoo on my wrist, and a spirtual guardian on a temple.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Seoul forest

Despite being a dense hive of 10 million people, Seoul nurtures a vast array of cultural and recreational gems. In addition to historic temples, castles and other structures, public art sculptures abound. Parks and green spaces of all sizes bring respite from the built environment. Among the largest of all is Seoul Forest, in the Seongsu-dong neighborhood. In preparation for our long trip home, we retreated to the forest for our penultimate day in Korea.

Willows on the water, and a path through the ginkgo forest.

Izzy amongst the tulips, and deer in deer-jail.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Food

It's hard to capture how amazing the food has been. And how inexpensive. It's also just fun. So abundant. Such a variety. Seoul is a food lovers paradise, even on a budget. For less than a McDonald's Happy Meal you can have an exquisite and healthy meal of real food.

The thought of having to cook when we get home, and to leave all this food behind, is a bit distressing.

Crispy pork cutlet and amazing vegetable kimbop from La Bab, a fast food eatery with Subway asthetic. The triangular kimbop is a rice and tuna delight sold at 7-Eleven.

Some stuffed unmentionables, fresh ground soy beans and a cornucopia of kimchi at Gwangjang market.

Tucking into some of our favorite things, and a croffle from a bakery downstairs. I've fallen hard for the croffle. I know they are not of Korean origin, but croffle, if you can hear me, we'll always have Seoul.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Bongeunsa

It's hard not to be attracted to temples. Bongeunsa is a UNESCO World Heritage Site nestled in the middle of Gangnam, a super trendy, expensive part of Seoul (made famous by THAT song).

A sanctuary of calm in a fast-paced city, we lit candles in memory of those lost, and for troubles faced elsewhere.

We visited on our first trip, and will most certainly return on our next.

We were lucky enough to witness a monk performing a ritual involving the drum, bell, fish, and gong. Each represents a natural element, and the ritual helps guide souls towards nirvana.

A peaceful harbor in the storm of the city.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

And then there were two

Having checked off most of our must-dos, we wander over to Gwangjang market JUST TO HAVE A LOOK. We have no intentions of buying anything. It's Sunday, so while food stalls are open, most other vendors are closed. Except for hanbok merchants, as we quickly learn.

An innocent stop to admire the colorful rainbow of traditional dresses brings the elderly store owner over. She unlocks her stall and ushers us in.

As she proceeds to select colors and dress Izzy, Jenny whispers "I really don't think we need a second hanbok." I concur, and start plotting an exit strategy.

Izzy looks beautiful in the outfit, but has a slightly alarmed look, since we had just bought a hanbok and they are, in general, not an inexpensive piece of clothing. Standing in the partially lit shop, an ancient women shuffles past, casts an eye at Izzy and says something to her shop mate (maybe her daughter?).

Our resolve starts to melt. I ask how much. She taps out 150,000 Won on her calculator ($105). That's a really good price. And we are in Seoul. And Izzy looks magnificent. After some negotiating, we pay $75, and our return home luggage, and credit card, take another modest hit.

Worth it. Every Won.

This hanbok has a traditional cut, with shorter jacket than the modern cut.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Happy Birthday Buddha!

Continuing last nights epic parade, streets in Seoul were closed to traffic and dozens of stalls took their place. It was essentially a flea market for buddhist activities, with a few kid-friendly offerings sprinkled throughout. Lessons in prayer, making celebratory lanterns, painting classical images of buddha, demonstrations of cultural elements of Buddhism from Nepal, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Thailand, Cambodia and beyond.

Another small parade made it's way down the cultural and shopping mecca of Insadong street, celebrating Korean Buddhist culture.

What a wonderful surprise, to be in this part of this city at this moment.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Street party for Buddha

Investigating a festive cacophony that we awoke to from an afternoon nap, we were treated to the largest parade of our lives. It was the lantern festival, in celebration of the buddha's birthday.

An annual event, 300,000 people took part this year, we later learned. It took two and a half hours for the parade to pass. The procession was a miles long river of dramatic lantern floats. The buddha, dragons spitting actual fire, a Korean turtle ship "firing" cannons, traditional Korean drummers. International contingents were well represented: Thailand, Myanmar, Nepal, Cambodia, all in the house.

The streets were lined with thousands, cheering on the procession. All ages, all nationalities. Just a massive throng of celebratory humanity.

Pictures or video can't do it justice, but here are some tidbits.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

When in doubt, eat

Recovering from our trip-within-a-trip to Busan, we strive to have a slow day. Essentially that means some shopping. A meal. Then a snack. Maybe another snack before another meal.

Doma, known for serving their beef and soybean paste soup with everything. In our case mackerel, chicken, and pork.

Traditional Korean tea house. Assorted snacks, including bingsu, which is shaved ice with sweet toppings (red bean, mochi, and peanuts). Our tea menu: Jeju marigold tea, mulberry punch, and iced plum tea.

Watching the evening lantern festival parade, Izzy has a potato encrusted corn dog with sweet chili sauce.

Then we waddle "home" for naps.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Coex mall library

Library in a mall? Why not! Coex mall in Gangnan has a functioning library, with coffee and snacks encouraged, and folks to retrieve your volumes from their crazy shelving. These stacks are like nothing I've ever seen.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

What if everything worked?

One thing that has been such a special treat during our time here is how everything just works. Korea has its problems, and you see some head scratchers that make you tilt your head and wonder "huh."  But so many things just work.

Traffic could perhaps best be described as feral. Cars weave, swerve, honk, cut each other off, slam on breaks, drive on the sidewalk. Motorbikes thread their way between cars, lamp posts and pedestrians. Bikes lane split. Cars lane split. Busses lane split. But there's an agreement among drivers that the roads are just going to be a free-for-all. We've put on a lot of road miles, but haven't seen a single accident. No signs of road rage. The only dented vehicle we've seen was, ironically, a giant Mercedes Maybach. And there are no potholes. Roads are important so they are maintained. Pedestrians, meanwhile, obey crossing signs.

Public trash cans are scarce, and so is litter. Roughly 20% of Koreans smoke, but they dont leave their butts on the street. The trains run on time, are clean, and have barriers to prevent passengers from ending up on the tracks. It's safe, with very little police presence (except during mass protests, but even then police rarely carry firearms or stun guns). You could leave you laptop, wallet, phone and passport on the coffee shop table, go to the bathroom, have everything still be there when you return. There are self-service restaurants and stores: help yourself then pay. The necessary services work, and people honor the honor system.

People are polite (except a couple of taxi drivers we pissed off, but that's another story). Your phone gets 5 bars of service EVERYWHERE, including 3 stories underground, and hurtling through tunnels at 200 mph on the bullet train. At home we struggle to bring reliable cell service to our rural, mountainous state. Despite its mountainous geography Korea has solved that problem, because it was an important problem to solve.

Even when faced with a major political crisis that threatened their very constitution, hundreds of thousands protested peacefully, and the rule of law prevailed.

All of which is to say, if the Koreans can do it, why can't every developed nation do the same?

IT that works (and we've found to be indispensable)

The Kakao taxi app let's you hail a taxi and pay for it. You use a map to identify your pickup and drop off location, so the language barrier is not a problem. Taxis arrive in under 5 minutes, and there is no tipping, so no cash exchanges hands.

Naver is like a Google Maps that actually works. Public transport directions remind you when you approach your subway stop. Location services even works underground.

With Klook you can purchase things like tickets to trains, events or tours, hotel stays, car rentals, gift cards and more all at great discount.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Jagalchi fish market

Thirty to fifty percent of all seafood in Korea moves through Busan's Jalgalchi fish market, the largest in Korea. Commercial transactions happen during the wee hours before dawn, but visitors can walk through, select the critter(s) that look delicious, and have them prepared on the 2nd floor. It doesn't get anymore fresher since much of the day's catch is still alive.

We weren't hungry (for once. It's rare, but it happens), but I'm a sucker for the sights of a good fish market, and there's likely non better in the world.

The captivating colors of my fellow creatures of the sea.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Sights in Haeundae

We haven't seen even the tiniest fraction of this portion of Busan where our hotel is. But the small alleys and stalls always steal our hearts.

After Jenny and Izzy stumbled upon this gem while getting lost in the rain, we found our way back to explore.

[surfaceofseoul]

Bargaining in Busan

Wherein I fail massively, completely piss of a merchant and am thrown out of her stall.

Busanjin is a gargantuan textile-focused market in the heart of Busan. Much of it is inside, and despite our Namdaemun market experience in Seoul, we ventured to Busanjin in search of basic pre-made  textiles such as table clothes.

The scale of the market is hard to comprehend. Multiple floors of tightly packed stalls, some well organized, others less so. Everything from fabric, zippers, undergarments, bags, shoes to clothes, clothes, clothes.

While we had no luck locating what we had been searching for, we did identify two items of interest at one stall, so I summoned my haggle-mojo and went to work. No luck. The shop keeper wouldn't budge. The strategy that has worked so well for me met the immovable object of "I don't think so, weirdo" (or it's rough translation in Korean). The more I pushed, the more agitated she got, making it clear there was no room to bargain. But isn't that a bargaining strategy of its own? "No, that's as low as I can go." Bargaining is de rigueur at the market, so what was happening? It all ended with her forcefully knocking her wrists together in an x shape, putting the items away, and shooing me out of her space.

I'm not sure what I learned, but there was a lesson in there somewhere. Maybe it's just that what works in Seoul won't necessarily work in Busan.

From lovely hanboks to paracord, a bounty of textiles at Busanjin market

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Tattoo

Venture out of the metropolitan bowl of Seoul and you find a Korea that is verdant and mountainous. As a result, the bullet train to Busan spends much of the time in tunnels. We rode it like a metaphore across the unfamiliar, and under obstacles of geography enroute to our destination.

There is no place I'd rather be than here in Korea with my adventurous family (we miss you Isaac and Abigail!). And being in Busan, the part of Korea where my mother and grandmother are from, it's nice to have their support. Like time travel, successive trips to Korea --to what increasingly feels like home-- brings me closer to that place in time where it all began for my mother and grandmother, mostly in hardship.

Experiences like war and its aftermath can imprint on DNA. Generations later an unassuming trigger can awaken that animal within. It may only be a vague awareness to pay attention. Or a lump in the throat. Unprompted tears. Memories that are not your own, but that belong to a collective past, gently asking to be released. Maybe this is what "full circle" feels like. We are here now, but I'm not sure if it is part of a shared circle, or just a different one. Maybe one we are formng with our kids? My processing speed is slow, and the significance of these types of events takes a while to blossom. Sometimes they never flower.

Getting a tattoo can be a bit like travel, especially to a place of personal significance. It can be less about seeing an experience than feeling it that leaves an indelible mark.

Seoul to Busan, two and a half hours by bullet train.

The souvenir you never lose. Kou, Busan born and bred, designed this amazing original tattoo for me. A traditional Korean mask on a background of hangul, the Korean alphabet. Can't get more Korean than that.

Tattooing is still illegal in Korea, unless you are an M.D., so tattoo studios tend not to advertise their location. Kou plies his trade 4 floors up a generically frenetic stairway, behind a sketchy looking metal door. To enter you have to be buzzed in.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Buddha of the sea

Haedong Yonggungsa Temple is a Busan icon. We hit it early, midweek to avoid the throngs that assail it during tour-friendly times.

It clings like a limpit to the rocky coast. Painted by the morning sun, polished by ocean winds. Standing like messengers of the profane on these salty sacred grounds, we realize that my people have been of-the-sea for generations.

It is brisk, and we are hungry. So after filling our souls, we retreat to fill our stomachs.

Clam soup with noodles. It tastes like what the ocean would taste like if you could drink it. Looming in the background, banchan that included spicy fishcake and extremely fresh tasting, robust seaweed. Most of my meals so far have been soups, and almost entirely vegetarian. Not necessarily by plan, just following my taste buds.

Hotpot bibimbop.

~Ano

[surfaceofseoul]

Getting Lost in Busan

Today, midway through our Korea journey, we took the bullet train. In just 2.5 hours we were transported by this gloriously speedy transit from shiny modern Seoul straight to bustling oceanside Busan, on what had became a gray and rainy day.

Our trip's itinerary involves lots of space for health, energy and time change crashes - mine was yesterday and Ano's was today. As he rested in our little apartment after check in, Izzy and I ventured out, very underdressed, in the pouring rain, in search of food. A touch of grump may have been in the air. The more we walked the wetter it got. The water squished in our shoes. After a while we stopped bothering to avoid puddles.

We walked longer than the map said we should, and we never did find the place we were looking for. But, an unexpected alleyway of food shops revealed itself - tanks of eels and other creatures of the sea waiting to be someone's dinner.

Standing there surrounded by dozens of vendors and stalls with water dripping down our chilly legs, we were both a little paralyzed by it all.

We ended up selecting - or being selected by - a tiny little udon soup shop. Nobody else was crazy enough to be out in the storm so we had the place to ourselves. Hot soup served with pickled radish warmed us and steamed our glasses as we both decided it was the best udon we had ever tasted. We emptied the large bowls while the owner prepared kimbab and fish cake for us to take back to Ano. As we got ready to leave, she came to check on us, patted Izzy's cheeks, declared them beautiful, chided me for not having an umbrella, and then zipped up Izzy's jacket, smoothed their hair into the hood of their raincoat and admonished us to stay dry and be safe. At least that's what it seemed like she was saying...

When we left that little place, our steps were still soaking wet but felt lighter and everything seemed like an adventure. We stopped at the beach and stood in the rain watching a bulldozer build sculptures for a sand festival. As the rain came down harder and we started to venture back to Ano, we got lost... and ended up finding a sock shop that needed our attention. Izzy mentioned that getting lost was the best part.

We came to Busan with some excitement and maybe also some trepidation. It is the area where Ano's people are from - and where they had to leave. His grandmother first left as a child, moving with her family to Japan where there was work - and just in time to witness the bombing of Hiroshima. She told us that she remembered the American soldiers moving through the country, and that she and her friends called them The Big Noses.

Afterwards, her family returned to this part of Korea, where she had Ano's mother, and was again confronted by war - but now as a mother instead of a child. At the same age that Izzy is now, Ano's mother left this country, leaving behind the wreckage of war, but not all of the damage. Multigenerational survival is one of the family's legacies, with costs that lingered.

Izzy keeps seeing their grandmother in everything here - the clothes, the hair, the ways of standing and talking. Shopping for gifts and souveniers for her is easy because as Izzy notes, we know she would like all of this. The recognition that her grandmother is part of a larger something made richer by context has been a revelation to this 17 year old, and to me.

Meanwhile, we keep observing, and we keep marveling - things here work. We are not used to this kind of functionality laced with beauty. The systems, the subways, the trains, the healthcare, the apps for convenience, the technology, the preservation of the historic architecture and the public spaces alongside the modern conveniences. The monks and nuns chanting in the temples, the stream flowing through Seoul, welcoming office workers with their lunches and wedding parties to its edges where they are photographed under the paper lanterns. The celebrations.

Now and then we read the news from home and wonder at the cycles that life moves through and the ways in which we all move with or against it.

All of these years later, after so many hardships and trials faced by the women in this family, to be dancing in the rain on this land with my daughter - the one of us who has chosen to spend the last two years studying Korean, the one of us who will return here to study soon, the one who thinks of it not as a place of a tragic past but as the now and the future, is a blessing I did not expect.

Getting lost really is the best part.

~Jenny

[surfaceofseoul]

Seconds

Awake at 3 a.m.? Must be time for a second trip to the unstaffed, 24 hour, make-your-own ramen establishment for a $3.50 breakfast.

~Ano