It's very easy to make fun of another country simply because of a few cultural/linguistic differences.
So here we go.
The manicurist shop called Hand Job.
The Korean award clearly displayed in that tiny coffee shop in Gangnam. It reads: Master of Cupping.
The burger shop in Itaewon called Piz Burger. Wait. That's not the funny part. The funny part is the sign on the wall inside that proclaims, “A fairly enjoyable meal at a reasonable price!” And you know what? It was. Fairly enjoyable.
Similarly, the very helpful web page about film times in Seoul. When I hit the 'English' button for opening times for a Megabox near our hotel, it proudly announced 'Closed All Year'. Another translator who is either taking the piss, really shit at his/her job or was perhaps dumped by the owner of Megabox. By text.
It is these same translators who, I presume, are responsible for the names of many of the coffee shops. First of all, let's establish that there's hundreds and hundreds of the buggers. Many of them belong to franchises. There's Starbucks, of course, but also a wide selection of local brands. The Coffee Bean. (Sure.) The Caffé Bene. (I see what you did there.) And then there's places with slightly less standard names. Like Standard Coffee. (Translator being brutally honest?) Daily Motion. (Translator being brutally honest?) Angel-in-Us. (I'm sorry? What? There's an angel in you? As in...in you? What the...? IN you? I can't...even begin...just...no.) W Cafe. (Well that's fine. Pretty cool actually. Let's have a closer look at the sign...We Make Price...okay you can fuck off.) And my out-and-out favourite, Adjective Coffee. My fellow actor Richard is convinced it was a miscommunication. “Well...of course the name of the shop has to include coffee. So you have Something Coffee.” “Something Coffee?” “No. Not literally the word 'something'. But an adjective. You know. Adjective Coffee.” “Ahhh!!!” Lots of head-nodding and smiles and one stupidly named coffee shop later...
What else?
Gag Story. This is a little shop within the theatre complex selling chocolate and canned drinks and instant noodles. Gag. Story. It's like I'm standing outside a room without a door. Or shipwrecked on a small island with Colin Farrell and Hugh Jackman and they've both broken all their fingers and need help with absolutely everything. I just don't know where to start.
And then there's Meat Packing Restaurant. (No The to lull you in.) Sits near the top of a hill. A block of a building. Dark and square. The words of its name shoved into the top left corner. It forces you to crane your neck to look at it. I imagine this is what a restaurant would be if The Texas Chainsaw Massacre had been turned into a restaurant franchise. In fact, I've imagined it all too vividly. I see patrons stripped and tied to revolving crucifixes. Bursts of red light breaking the blackness in slow, staccato beats. Sex Pistols demo tapes are jack-hammered out of the speakers while you could swear they were playing a Puccini opera in another room. A room you will n e v e r see. Naked Korean chefs wearing only black Tae Kwon Do belts around their heads and aprons of pig's blood throw the food at their customers' spinning, screaming faces. If the Bulgogi you ordered lands in your mouth, you eat. Not exactly Jamie's Italian.
Absolutely. Everything.
The sporty hiking active clothing shop called Kolon Sport. I need add nothing to this.
The other sporty hiking active clothing shop called The Red Face. Even the font and logo are similar to The North Face. But whereas The North Face is crisp and cool and makes you think of people dying heroically and somewhat pointlessly on mountains, The Red Face makes me think of people falling over on ice rinks. Or just farting in public. Not so sporty.
Oh. And yesterday I passed a gym called Painstorm. The font was angry and jagged. People who just love Meat Packing Restaurant go there. I mean, I think it was a gym. Was it a gym? I was sure at the time. The stairs did go down...
But let's move away from the streets and into my apartment. (It's called an apartment but it's really an hotel room with a kitchenette hiding behind some folding doors. A bit like calling Australian politics “politics”.) Within my bathroom is a typical Korean toilet. What does this mean exactly? Well, it's like comparing your washing machine to a T1000 Terminator robot from the future. There's a gap in the technology. Firstly, the seat is heated. So it feels like somebody else has just had a long session just before you wandered in. We all found that a bit hard to get used to. Now? We love it. If you ever happen to sit on a loo here that isn't heated, it's a shock to the system, and, quite frankly, an insult to the buttock. Secondly, there is a modern panel of buttons at seat level, immediately to your right when in sitting mode. It controls sprays and jets and air drying for both the anus and the vagine. (Yes. Vajeeen.) There are controls for temperature, pressure, and direction. I have, after much research, set mine to Best Friends Forever. The world needs to catch up. This isn't a toilet. It's a Day Spa for sphincters.
As for the social aspect of Seoul? Well, there are stories to tell. I've been to Homo Hill. It's a hill full of homos. Was not a total surprise. Occasionally I'm acting half my age. So nothing new there. But not four times a week as I did on the last tour. So something new there. In fact I've kept myself (relatively) nice, as we/they say in England. But those stories can wait until next time. One of those stories began with a Corona-rita. If you guessed that that's a margarita being stabbed with a bottle of Corona, you're bang on. This did not instigate a night of meditation and stillness. Not even the T1000 Best Friend Bidet can flush those memories away.
Cultural differences? Absolutely. Similarities? Koreans and Brits and Aussies and Americans and heteros and homos and lezzos all like to get really pissed occasionally. Actually, especially the Koreans. And I think we need more Corona-ritas at these world summit thingies. Hugs and real demilitarisation would follow. And lots of hilarious photos on Barack Obama's Facebook page. For example, when he was dared to snog the musical director of the touring production of Jersey Boys. And he did. Hilarious.
Adjective noun until we verb again.
(Every.
Thing.)
