Korea
SOUTH KOREA | Sunday, 25 November 2007 | Views [364] | Comments [11]
Day 2: Arrive in Korea
I couldn't help noticing, as I walked through the ship that would take me from the place I'd called home for 3 and a half years to the first stop on a trip that would take me half way across the world, that I was the only Westerner on board. In fact, I seemed to be the only one who wasn't Korean. The fact that this was a ferry catering to Asians was made more obvious by the Karaoke rooms that vibrated with badly sung Korean songs from the moment we left port. In my room were 2 young Korean guys. One of them, Win, had been studying in Japan and was retuning to Korea to begin his compulsory military service. He wasn't very happy about that. The other, Kwon, had just finished a one month trip in Japan. We took the train to Seoul together then said goodbye to Win. Kwon helped me find my youth hostel before taking me to a little korean retaurant he knew which served very cheap (under $5), very authentic, korean dishes. I have never tasted so much flavour in one serving. Kwon told me that in Korea when you order a dish it always comes with about half a dozen other side dishes. I was a little surprised by the chopstix. They were metal, not the usual wooden style; thin, flat and quite heavy. After 3 and a half years in Japan I've become fairly adept at using chopstix but I found these difficult to use. After exchanging emails I said goodbye to Kwon and went back to the hostel. Later that night I returned to the streets to get some more food. I love the Asian street food culture. No better way to eat then by pointing at delicious looking foods in the many stalls lining the roads; foods you've neither eaten or seen before, then walking along the street while you eat. I like Korean chijimi, it's a kind of savory pancake, I wanted to try some in korea so I ordered one from the foodstall and was handed the biggest chijimi I have ever seen. And I was handed it wrapped in a plastic bag. I also came across without a doubt the strangest food combination I have ever witnessed in my life. peanut butter flavored squid tentacles. I had to try it, and it tasted... just as bad as it sounds. Coming down the street toward me I saw what I knew would be the first of many beggars. Lying on a trolley, his useless legs dragging along behind him, he pushed himself along with one hand in a sandle while his other, outstretched in front, pushed an old radio, playing a slow, sorrowful Korean song.
It's a strange feeling to think that this is the first day of a 6 month trip. Before starting out I just thought of it as a trip, done in one block. But here I am on day one and suddenly it's not one block but a sequence of individual days which stretch out over the horizon, over the Himilaya Mountains, and out of eyesight.
Day 3: Palaces, guards and grumpy old men
Ater a breakfast which included the Korean staple, kimchi, I headed to the TIC to book a spot on the boat to China. It only sails twice a week, luckily the day I want is one of those days. On the way there I dodged crazy motorbike riders who sped along footpaths and across pedestrian crossings, weaving through car and human traffic alike. The lady at the front desk of the building where the TIC was located was a little too helpful. She didn't just tell me the floor of the TIC (B1) but also lead me to the elevators, pushed the button, ushered me inside, pushed B1, pushed the close door button then stepped back and smiled. I smiled back, until the doors closed and I realised the elevator was going up instead of down, all the way to the top floor where we picked up another passenger before heading back down. At the TIC was some elderly caligraphy artists who were writing names in Korean for free. I got my name and Hiromi's name written in the Korean alphabet which looks a little binary.
The rest of the day was spent looking around a couple of palaces where I saw the changing of the guard. They wore colouful, traditional outfits, beat drums, and generally looked very serious and fearful. That impression was dashed somewhat when I stood beside one of the motionless guards to have a photo taken only to find that their beards were fake and falling off. A Tiawanese guy who introduced himself as Richard, explaining that he had named himself after a famous pianist, took the photo for me, then asked if he could get one with me too. I didn't want to insult him so I also got one of us together.
In front of the palace was a large group of old men. Some of them played some kind of Asian checkers, while the others stood around them watching and sounding there appreciation. In front of the other temple another group of old men were involved in a more heated form of entertainment, hotly debating in a language I couldn't understand. At first I thought it was just an augument, but when I saw they were still at it when I exited the palace half an hour later I knew that they, like the other men playing board games, were engaged in a game of minds.
Currency is a funny thing. The Korean Won and the Japanese Yen use the same denominations; hundreds, thousands and tens of thousands, they even look the same. So it seems like the same money but 100 Won is only 10 Yen so although the 6000 Won meal I ate for dinner tonight seemed expensive, it was actually only about $6, give or take a handful of change. Change... a pet hate of mine. In Japan they still have 1 Yen coins; these stupid, paper-light, little things that end up laying around everywhere. Everything is 198 yen or some such stupid price. In Australia it's not much better only it's 5's instead of 1's. But in Korea I never saw a price that didn't end in a zero. My 6000 Won meal tonight really was 6000 Won. The banana milk I bought, 1000 Won. I know the Korean Won goes down to atleast 10 because I saw it on the phone, 10 Won (about 1 cent) for 2 minutes, but the smallest coin I've seen is the 100 Won coin. After 2 days I've got 3 coins sitting in my pocket, 3 big coins. Back in Japan I would have enough shrapnel to sink a ship by now. Every time I open my wallet I'm breaking a note. My consumerist life is a constant battle between getting coins, and trying to get rid of them.
Tags: Adventures
Comments
Add your comments
