Bonghwa Bound

Instead of Shanghai, we are taking a bus into the countryside to visit my aunt and uncle who live outside of Bonghwa, a town so small it's not on the map in our Lonely Planet. Time to go!

Cute Alert: 600-Year-Old Fire-Breathing Dog

Koreans can make anything cute! Even a 600-year-old fire-eating dog that looks like a lion, carved in stone and standing guard to protect palaces and important places (think gargoyle!). See below, the haetae at Gwanghwamun.

Now meet the updated version, Haechi. I love.

Clothing Explosion

Whenever we do our laundry, Isaac says it looks like our washing machine threw up. We have a washing machine but no dryer, so we hang our clothes on an extra ethernet cable tied to two open cabinets on opposite sides of the room. Just making do!

Tough City Rush Hour

This morning was Day 2 of Shanghai Debacle. We woke up early to head to the Chinese Embassy to try and get same day tourist visas and slip on a flight this evening. We went packed and ready to hit the airport, just in case (ever the optimists!).

We usually avoid rush hour but today couldn't help it. One mental image remains from this morning that depicts the difference between our languorous life in Canada and a city like Seoul, where trains pass you by unless you fight to get on.

The subway platform was packed, with everyone lined up in an orderly fashion. As the train pulled into the station, it was obvious that it was already crammed with more people than you'll ever see on the subway in Toronto, at any hour. The doors opened. Isaac and I just stood there as a wave of people rushed on. They jumped in where there was no room and MADE room.

One older salt-n-pepper gentleman clawed his way in and clung to the doorframe like a spider. A kid in a puffy parka moshed his way onto the train. Everyone ignored an ineffectual, pimply young monitor who politely asked Puffy and Spiderman to step off each time the doors re-opened as it sensed blockage between the doors. The doors opened and closed three times. The monitor had a baton like a short light sabre and wore a sash like a very official pageant-winner. The doors would close then re-open and Monitor would pinch a bit of the thin nylon of Puffy's parka between his thumb and forefinger. "Excuse me," tug, tug, "Please step off and wait for the next train." Puffy pretended not to hear or feel him, steadfastly staring into the sardine can subway car. Doors open, close, open, close. These two held up a lot of people for a very long minute because they could not let the train pass them by.

I was horrified. If getting to work requires athletic feats of genteel yet fierce tenacity, what does it take to get THROUGH a work day here?

We missed two trains this way, getting to the Chinese embassy at the stroke of 9. After visiting the embassy and two travel agencies, it became clear that we weren't going anywhere. At least the second travel agent, a kindly, rumpled older man, was nice. He wore a sweater under a nubbly tweed blazer and reading glasses with just one arm, which wasn't a reflection on how hard he would hustle, calling and faxing around on our behalf. Alas, there was really was no way to salvage our Shanghai itinerary. He suggested we get our money refunded (ha!) and tried to make us feel better about our mistake, saying, "There's no visa requirement between Korea and Canada, so it probably just didn't occur to you," although he did add, "You can't travel to China from anywhere without a visa" (but in a nice way, really).

We schlepped our overnight bag across the street to the Myeong-dong movie theatre and saw Avatar, which took longer than it would have taken to fly to China.

After, I bought some glasses (they took 20 minutes, on the spot) and we stumbled upon the dumpling restaurant I fell in love with three years ago. We devoured a bunch in 5 minutes, tops.

This morning, we were on a high of efficiency and tenacity, trying to make our Shanghai trip work. Then, we were just distracted by James Cameron's flight scenes and accompanying pan flute score. But as the day wore on and I trudged around the city lost and alone, I thought about how tough life is in this city. I've had that thought many times over the past month. But Puffy Parka and Spiderman this morning really clinched it.

Giant Mistake Day

This morning, we got up after a few short hours of sleep and somehow stumbled through our morning routine to get to the airport. The train from Yeomchang to Incheon airport was blissfully easy. We wandered the sprawling, sci-fi cavern of the airport (they have gardens in there! a performance stage! a giant spa!) and found the check-in counter for China Southern Air. We got up to the counter and handed over our passports. The girl asked, "Do you have a visa to travel to China?"

Game over. I knew it right then!

HOW could we not have checked whether we need visas to enter China? What a colossal mistake. We said all the stupid things one might expect in that situation: "You need a visa to travel to China? We're Canadian!"

I turned to Isaac and said, "Oh well, it's just money," because I didn't want him to feel too bad about the flights and hotel. The girl at the counter seemed impatient to get on to the next, properly-documented individual in the long line behind us but it was taking us a second to get our jaws off the floor.

As we silently ascended a long escalator, I thought, "Am I not too old to be making such stupid mistakes?" Is there really no age limit to extremely inconvenient, gigantic oversights? It's so embarrassing.

We went to the food area for some overpriced noodles because we hadn't eaten yet. Isaac said, "This will be our secret shame," but of course now I'm blogging it.

We took the train back to our apartment and crawled back into bed before our flight to Shanghai had even climbed into the sky. So sad.

We didn't wake up until the sun had set. What a gross, vampire day. We went to the closest resto in our neighbourhood for dinner. It's always packed. It's the place where the waiter, in our first week, agreed to give us a patio table for the duration of our stay, so I've always felt fond of it but awkward about going in, like I'd have to make small talk to the effect of, "Oh hi, we're the weirdos who dropped in asking to borrow your patio table for a month."

I had been looking forward to some donkatsu. It turns out that despite the Japanese decor, it is not a Japanese restaurant (strike one), instead, it's a smoky bar (strike two) and we ordered the first thing on the menu which turned out to be crazy-spicy odeng (fish cake) and a giant plate of even spicier blood sausage, the exact thing I've been avoiding this entire trip (BLOOD SAUSAGE - YES, this is strike three!).

Blood sausage - I mean, really. Blood sausage is quite popular here on the streets as a quick grab and as a food to eat while you're drinking. It's rice noodles in an intestine casing with blood. It is black. I don't want to eat that! But somehow I ordered a giant plate of it for the two of us even though the menu has photos and English words. How did I manage that?

Sometimes when you're traveling (or NOT as the case may be for us today), it all just comes down to having a good meal. Today we couldn't catch a break.

Party Time Countdown to Shanghai

Everything we do here is fun and exciting, even the boring stuff. Unfortch, I don't have any time to write about it! Especially right this second as it is 4:30 in the morning and I reek of smoke (people smoke indoors here, including in tiny karaoke rooms where Kevin does amazing renditions - again! - of Mariah Carey). I really hate it when my winter coat and hair smell like smoke. I think the people next to me on my FLIGHT IN THE MORNING will hate it more.

Today we went with Eemo and Eemoboo to Nam Han San Seong (which she herself called Ajummah Mountain, which gave me lots of laughs). Also, to a delicious lunch resto. Also, she helped me by calling the hotel I want to stay at in Jeju and booking for me. Also, that is about it for me right this second. Isaac is drinking water upside down trying to get rid of his hiccups which are exactly like the kind of hiccups cartoons get when they are drunk. He is now leaning back and drinking, now looking at me and laughing. This night has gone on way too long. We will regret it in the morning.

Oh and btw, the reason why we were out? Our new friend Irene's 30th birthday party. Vietnamese food, 90s hip hop, international crowd, lots of fun, house party, then to a cool club in Apgujung named Platoon made of recycled shipping containers, then to insane club where a duo that looks like Extreme after 20 years of meth playing their weird throbbing headbanger techno (with an Israeli flag draped in front), then to a noraebang, ending with renditions of Mariah's Touch My Body (lots of awesome syncopation, did R Kelly do that one? Jermaine Dupri?) -- also I realized that We Built This City really split the crowd into 30+ and the twentysomethings.

Good night! Tomorrow - Shanghai!

Date Night in Seoul

Isaac and I once took Mom to see a doc during Hot Docs on a Korean courtship rituals. It included a scene that showed this amazing array of locks in Seoul, all crowded and bunched up in an area that has taken on some sort of romantic significance. Couples write messages neatly onto the padlocks in cute, boxy Korean letters and then lock them onto the fence...FOREVER. Times a gazillion.

The other day, Isaac suggested we walk up Nam San to the N Seoul Tower. We did (huff, huff, 1200 m into the sky later....), then turned a corner...and saw the sea of locks! This is it!



Too bad we didn't bring a lock!

That's ok, because we had a romantic date in a place that so totally appeals to the squealing, Korean teen in me and Tom Cruise was our (tiny, intense) special guest.

We were wandering, looking for a coffee in Hongdae. I looked up into the sky and saw a sign that said, "Cafe Bang Bang." Isaac likes to make fun of the name but I just knew from the cute quotient of the sign that it would be great. And I was right.

The place was EXTREMELY CUTE. When you walk in, teenage attendants take your shoes and put them in a locker. Then they take you to your private cubbyhole. It has a floor-to-ceiling window and is swathed in rose wallpaper with faux Victorian sconces on the wall and a floor cushioned with the kind of vinyl mat you use in grade school gym class. There's a wee table and a flat-screen TV, on which we watched bits of Mission Impossible 3. You can pay 6000W ($6) for "self-serve" treats (popcorn, juice bar, coffee) or order from the menu, which I did, getting a gigantic frozen yogurt pat bing soo (the main ingredient to the BEST DATE EVER).

I keep talking about Cafe Bang Bang wistfully, like, "Wasn't it the best?" Isaac doesn't entirely agree. I think being shut into a miniscule, frou-frou room with tons of sugar, instant coffee and a giant TV is actually pretty close to being his biggest nightmare. But look at the view! I loved it.

Black Hanbok and White Chrysanthemums - A Funeral

Today was a very sad day. We went to my uncle's funeral this morning. The funeral home was in the basement of the hospital. Cancer is so cruel. It isn't fair to spend your last days in pain.

We bowed to his portrait surrounded by white chrysanthemums. All the women wore black hanbok. They also pinned tiny, white ribbons in their hair. It reminded me that Mom didn't allow me to wear white barrettes when I was younger because she said it meant someone had died.

How do people remain so composed at funerals and not simply crumble into tears? I guess there's nothing but the company of others to hold the grief at bay.

We ate lots of food and the soju started flowing around noon, which helped (although I couldn't bring myself to drink it that early - Isaac let himself be goaded into three shots). All our family was there, including people I've never seen, like two of Dad's cousins. It was a nice thing to see so much of our family again, especially when we're told funny stories, like my father's uncle did (he loves telling stories).

One lasting image from today is from when everyone gathered to say goodbye to me and Isaac, everyone who knew us, anyway - all the women, my cousins and their husbands, my uncles and my father's uncle. We had bowed to everyone individually already. They all gathered and followed us to the brink of the doorway as put our shoes back on, a row of black hanbok, a sea of kind faces. I gave one last wave and the sea waved back.

As soon as I hit the hallway, the tears really started flowing. It's hard to say goodbye when you didn't feel you had the language to know them well enough in life. I'm so afraid of losing the older generation that way, each a locked box of treasures I'll never hear.

I'll remember my uncle as a gentle grandfather with an easy smile, putting on his newsboy cap whenever he headed out to teach his calligraphy class. I count myself lucky when I think back to the times I was able to watch him practicing his brush strokes diligently at home.

Noraebang at the Dollhouse

Friday night we went out with our new friends Kevin and Irene. They're from Toronto but Irene lives here and DJs at this amazing bar that is built like the inside of a fairy tale mushroom (except that it's all made of concrete so don't wipe out, a genuine concern while creeping up and down the narrow, winding stairs).

You take off your shoes before you go in and put them in a bag that you carry around with you. They have hookah pipes there for 10 000 W, too ($10). The place was designed by the owner, whom we met. He must be Seoul's only goth (and he is committed to it!) from his laced tails to his fur stole and top hat.

After a drink at the bar, we went to Luxury noraebang ("karaoke"), which is what it's called (it lives up to the name). It has three levels (plus a lower level, invisible to the street) - the wall facing the street is all glass, which makes it look like a dollhouse. All the adorable decor doesn't hurt, either.

When we were shown to our room, we had a collective OMG fit. The room is so cute, with a depressed seating area covered in frilly cushions, giant screen plus one on each side of the room, and a mirrored wall for checking yourselves out while dancing to Rhythm Nation (which pleased this crowd of four). You know what else is a crowd-pleaser? Kevin doing Mariah. He was also quite good at that Antichrist song by Marilyn Manson which kept Isaac and I giggling all the way home. We just had one thing to do before we left Luxury, shutting the place down - we all took turns lyring down on the see-through floor for a photo shoot - irresistible, right?
Noraebang - too much fun!

"Hi Seoul!"

"Would You Mind Taking A Photo?"

Isaac takes pictures of me and I take pictures of him. When you ask a passerby to take a picture of the both of you, this happens:

Honestly, now. Really? It's merely mildly exasperating now - the humour has kinda worn off although I do remember laughing myself silly at the top of the Eiffel Tower with Mom a few years ago. That was RIDICULOUS. The above photo is merely, "Are you on a boat?"

Then there's asking Dad when there's only room for one flick left on your memory card and the fake wedding procession at Korea Folk Village, at a standstill for photo ops, hasn't noticed you getting reeeally close to the horse and so they've started up their music again, making you go, "WHOA!" because the horse you put your face next to is now snuffling and huffling and it startled you and...*SNAP!*. I wish you guys could zoom in on my face. We laughed about it for a long time ("And Dad, please make sure you get the big guy with the Beta cam in the background, he is a good buddy" - NOT).