Korean Honeymoon

Seoul,

I wasn't sure when I first saw you. There can be a sexiness to skyscrapers, but yours are too often tired blasts of Soviet-style concrete that choke the streets and cut out the sun. Look again and down at street level you are the most colourful, crowded place I have ever seen.

Street-sellers stir pans of red stew under sticky tarpaulin, bright-lit shops fire music into the streets. The businessmen in sparkly ties hurry along, but the cutesy sounds of Korean pop will tinkle into their dreams.

Groups of young women link arms down the avenues, covering their mouths as they giggle together. Calling cards cover tarmac like confetti, the girls' smiles smeared by a thousand footsteps. Down on the subway, rows of doughy aunties sit silently, their eyebrows ready-painted into glimmering arches that signal 'I do not approve'. One smiles, I wave, she laughs.

Living in artsy Hongdae, I feel at home. The coffee shops are strung with fairy lights, with blankets for huddling against the bitter nights. Tea dresses and pastel coats hang simply from white walls in vintage stores, sanctuary from the outdoor hustle of Korea's hippest kids. Street artists splash colour over concrete, live bands and tap dancers make music in the park, while beat boxers take over the subway station. I am privileged to see you at your most alive, your most neon, where every sign shouts Karaoke! Internet! Booze! Burger King!

You deserve your fun, because you lifted yourself out of the Korean War's ashes. Just forty years ago yours was one of the poorest countries in the world. Now it is a member of the trillion dollar club, a world economy elite. You work to keep your membership more than anyone. Your drive should mean you are a hard-edged swirl of 24 million people but your Confucian roots soften you.

Sometimes I forget the rules, forget to nod at my elders, or look messy with holes in my tights. I am trying to be respectful in the ways you expect, but it is hard to remember when I barely get to see you. For while you are at work, I look after your children, teaching them English.

To be honest, I have never stayed anywhere for long. I guess I'm too addicted to the honeymoon period. Being committed to you for a year, I feel scared. Scared to discover the real you. Seoul, without a doubt you are my big adventure.