I'm Out!

Today is my last day of work, and my second-to-last in Korea. Tomorrow will be spent packing up, showing the POTGOS around Seoul a little more, and making general arrangements for departure. Shortly after lunch on Sunday, I depart for Tokyo. So I guess it's time to wrap this baby up.

I know when I get back to the U.S. I'm going to be besieged with questions along the lines of "How was Korea?" Obviously, there is no simple answer. I don't even really know where to begin trying to sum this up. I will say that I got exactly what I wanted out of this summer. I wanted to go somewhere totally different, somewhere that I'd never been and would in all liklihood never go to again (at least for a long time). I wanted to experience what it's like to find myself in a completely foreign culture and have to figure my way through it. I wanted both the challenge and the excitement of doing that, and my two months in Korea have more than provided it.

In hindsight, I'm extremely glad that I wound up coming here. Unlike a lot of other countries to which I sent resumes, I didn't really have much of an impression of Korea before I came here--it was very much a last-minute decision, something that I never really contemplated until the end of January. Because I hadn't formed a whole slew of preconceived expectations, I think I was really able to see Korea with a fresh set of eyes that made the experience more exciting and more enjoyable.

A few other thoughts, and then I'll wrap up:

--As I said above, I wanted not just the exhilaration but also the challenge of travellin to someplace completely different. Boy did I get it. I hadn't realized just how great the language barrier would be, and just how isolating that could make it from time to time. After a while, the novelty of struggling through an elaborate pantomime or looking up words in a phrasebook just to order a meal or buy mouthwash wears off, and you start to really miss the familiar. I definitely felt that, even though I had friends here and worked at a firm where everyone spoke at least some English and most people spoke quite well or fluently. It gave me tremendous respect for those immigrants who pick themselves up and just flat-out move to another country and build a whole new life. This felt sort of like summer camp to me, in the sense that there was always an end date set. But what a challenge to try and make a new life out of it.
--I gained, I think, a greater appreciation for the nuances of the North Korea/South Korea situation. It's far more complex than we see in the States, and certainly more complex than the Bush administration portrays. It's instructive that everyone here--liberals and conservatives--thinks that Bush is screwing this whole thing up because he simply doesn't understand it. Maybe the Bush administration will take that to heart. Yeah, right.
--While the "touristy" things that I did (visiting Gyongbokung palace, the DMZ, the beach at Busan and the beautifully bizzare baseball game) were memorable and lots of fun, the thing that was great about this summer was that by spending a full two months here, and because I got to meet people through the firm and through other friends, I was able to get additional points of entry into Korean culture that I wouldn't have gotten otherwise, and this in turn meant I was able to break out of the "typical" tourist life. I've eaten mostly at restaurants that don't cater to westerners, and I've gotten to experience aspects of Korean life--visits to norebang, booking, room salons, my trip to Ganghwa island--that tourists can't really access. This was perhaps the most exciting and interesting part of my time here.

So that's my take. I would have thought that I'd understand Korea better after two months here than when I first arrived, but in some ways the opposite is true. Each time I thought I'd dug a little bit into Korean culture, for the step forward I took I discovered far greater layers of complexity lying beneath the surface. I suppose I have a greater knowledge of Korean culture than I did in May, but that little bit of knowledge also makes me aware of just how little I know.

One last thing--several people have asked if I'm going to continue the blog either for my trip to Japan and China or when I return to the States. My friend Norm Ham even suggested a satirical GFOS back in Boston (with entries like "I went to Dunkin' Donuts again today. Apparently Bostonians can't pronounce the letter "R" and are legally required to wear one item of Citysports clothing each day). Not gonna happen. This blog was a good method for sharing my experiences and misadventures, but once I leave here I first become just another tourist and then just a schmuck law student who occupied with the contents of his navel. You don't want to read about it any more than you want to see your aunt and uncle's vacation videos, and I'm not going to pretend you do. So it ends here.

Thanks for reading this summer and following along. If you commented from time-to-time, thanks for adding you two cents. As Chris Russo would put it, that's a nice job by you guys there. Good work outta the readers. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing.

The Godfather has left the building.

Saying Anyo

Quick correction to earlier post. One astute reader took umbridge with my less-than-generous characterization of "The Wizard" last week. While I stand by my Walton-esque description of it as "just terrrrrrible," I completely forgot that the movie previewed "Super Mario Brothers 3," the defining video game of my adolesncence. You could turn Mario into a flying beaver, for crying out loud! Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

Anyway, "anyo" means "so long," and since I'm leaving Korea in a few days, I've begun saying "anyo" to the places I've been frequenting for the past few months. I've developed an elaborate and, I think, rather effective pantomime indicating that I'm leaving Korea (it involves pointing to myself, making a series of "birds flying away" gestures with my hands, and then pointing to a calendar), so I've been able to convey the imminency of my departure to local merchants, restauranteurs and others with whom I've developed something of a rapport. When I told the people at my bulgogi restaurant the other night, they gave me a small bottle of some sort of warm yogurt drink. I'm not going to touch it ("warm yogurt drink" seems like the perfect way to get food poisoning before I go to Japan), but I appreciate the sentiment. I also got a parting gift from my Starbucks friends (which seems appropriate, given that I spent about $15,000 there this summer), and a very enthusiastic goodbye when I got my hair cut a second time.

My parents (whom we'll call POTGOS--"Parents of the Godfather of Seoul"--I know, it's a mouthful. I'm open to suggestions for alternatives to POTGOS) arrived in Seoul last night, so I get to show them around for a few days before we take off. It will be nice to get to be a little bit of an expert for a change. I only have a limited number of meals with them before we leave, so I'm trying to figure out exactly which Korean foods to showcase. Be assured that any type of yogurt drink will not make the list. Soju, however, will, and pictures of my father singing kareoke will open at $59.99 on ebay.

Why does the Village Voice have a Korea fetish?

I don't know, but here's the second article in the past week on Korea-meets-New-York. I get to be so hip and in the know when I get back.

Go You Spurs!

I have never been to a pro soccer game. To be completely honest, I think it's kind of a dumb sport with not nearly enough scoring (although who does't love tie games?) and I fail to understand the rest of the world's obsession with it when baseball and basketball and curling are far more exciting. Reports that my antipathy towards soccer can be directly linked to the day in first grade when Chris Hegarty kicked me in the shins could not be confirmed.

Soccer is really popular in Korea, however, since they co-hosted the World Cup in 2002. And so when I learned that a soccer tournament called the Peace Cup was to be held here during my stay, I figured I should go. The Peace Cup is an eight-team tournament contested by clubs from a bunch of different countries. They've been playing some sort of elimination tournament for the past week or so, and yesterday was the final match, between the Tottenham Hotspur of England (motto: "Go You Spurs!") and Olympique Lyonnias of France (motto: "Ow! Not in the face!").

The game was sold out, but because the Korean team failed to make the final, tickets were readily available from scalpers. In fact, we were able to get our seats at a discount, paying a little more than half price for two seats up in the stratosphere. Undaunted, and motivated by a desire to promote cross-cultural understanding, we introduced the American custom of "sneaking downstairs into the good seats" to Korean society. I await the call of the Nobel Peace Prize committee.

Not knowing anything about either of the two teams, my friend and I decided to root for Tottenham. Our reasoning was twofold. First, how can you not root for a team called the "Hotspur?" And second, we couldn't possibly support a team from a country that hates freedom.

Turns out we made the right call. The Brits absolutely dominated the first half, scoring two goals about 5 minutes apart and then a third one with about ten minutes remaining in the half. The second goal came on a chip shot over the French goalie who did not even try to stop it and seemed only vaguely aware that a soccer game was taking place. This stood in marked contrast to the English goalie who may have supplanted Takeru Kobayashi as the greatest athlete of my lifetime. This guy was an absolute beast. He was jumping, diving, and putting on an absolute show, making magnificent save after magnificent save. Bear in mind that the French players were kickinig the the ball very hard. And yet instead of doing what any sensible person would have done and getting the hell out of the way, this guy actually moved towards the ball. Inspiring.

Down 3-0 to begin the second half, Olympique Lyonnais found itself in the most dire straits faced by a Frenchman since Jean Valjean. I assumed they would simply play out the half and go home. But to the surprise of all, the French refused to surrender (raise your hand if you think I didn't make that joke 50 times throughout the half). They kept up the attack, and even secured a penalty kick at one point, which they converted to make it 3-1. They kept up the effort for the rest of the half, but the Brits held them off to take the title. Still, a valliant effort. I almost felt bad about trying to teach the Korean kids sitting in my section to call them "cheese-eating surrender monkeys."

A few final notes and observations:

--I've decided that, as a whole, I don't like soccer players. Way too many of them fake like they're hurt and then "gamely" continue on. On three separate occassions, a player went down and called for a stretcher to take him off. Once on the sideline, he stood up and then re-entered the game. You should have to have either a broken bone (and a big one, not just one of the little ones in your foot) or have lost a leg completely to warrant a stretcher. Here's the rule I propose: if you leave the field, you can only return and keep playing using the same method you used to leave. So if you walk off under your own power, you can come back on, but if you get stretchered off, the four guys who bore the stretcher need to carry you around for the rest of the game. Once you're off your feet, you're off your feet.
--Like in baseball, nobody boos. So even when the French goalie pulled a Manny Ramirez and ignored the shot going over his head, the French fans (or rather, the Korean contingent rooting for the French) just cheered louder and banged their thunderstix together.
--Oh, that's right. They have thunderstix too. And dried squid.

Anyway, overall it was a very exciting day, made all the more enjoyable by the fact that I did not spontaneously combust, the sweltering heat notwithstanding. The good guys won, freedom prevailled and I gained a slight degree of respect for soccer, even though I think the players are a bunch of (expletive deleted). Well worth the 15,000 won.

World Cup Stadium

Preparing for a corner kick.

The Superfans and their Thunderstix

Hot in Herre

The rainy season in Seoul has ended, and we're now into the hot season. And by hot, I mean stupefyingly hot. Mind-numbing, lifeblood-draining, can't-think-for-even-a-second-about-anything-other-than-how-FREAKING-hot-it-is hot. Apocalyptically hot.

I tried to stay indoors in the air conditioning when I could, spending much of Saturday at the mall where I did some last minute shopping and actually saw the taping of a televised professional video-game battle. I also thought this was a good time to try a traditional Korean drink, a cold rice wine called dongdongju. It comes chilled in a large pitcher with pieces of ice, and you ladle it into a small drinking bowl. Sounds refreshing. Unfortunately, dongdongju is Korean for "thing that tastes like too-thin runny yogurt that's been left in the sun for three days." Yuck. The stuff was absolutely wretched. On the whole, Korean alcohol has been disappointing, if unforgettable.

Game Boys

Do you remember "The Wizard?" It was a terrible movie from the late '80's starring Fred Savage as a boy who's parents are splitting and who's mentally disturbed younger brother turns out to be a video game savant. They travel cross-country together so that little mute brother can compete in the world video game championships. Hillarity, hijinks, and heartwarming moments ensue.

Turns out they could have come to Korea. Every now and then when I'm watching television, I see what appears to be video games on the screen, usually some sort of space ship game. I didn't really know what to make of it--figured it was some commercial or something. Nope. Turns out that competative video game playing is a BIG deal in Korea. The top players--in the ultimate WATFO, almost always guys between 15 and 23--compete on television for valuable prizes. According to the lawyer who explained this to me, the game is a role-playing game (see previous sentence about top players) and if you understand what's going on, can actually make for pretty compelling television.

Now where's Winnie Cooper?

You've got to be kidding me

The Next Big Thing, according to the Village Voice...

Bookworm

I've read all of the books I brought with me, about a dozen, so yesterday evening, I wandered into the Kyobo bookstore, which I've been told is one of the largest bookstores in Seoul and certainly has the largest selection of English-language books in the city. I was pretty impressed, as they had a wide array of both recent, popular works and "classic" literature in English, as well as a good-sized nonfiction collection. I settled on "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand. I've never read it and want to see what the hype is about. Plus, the 1000 pages should hold me for a while.

One thing of note--I was amazed at how many textbooks were for sale. There were shelves and shelves of American economics, chemistry and phsyics textbooks. There were even two shelves of law casebooks (attention Section 6-ers: without too much effort I found both Dukminier and Kadish--they were just as expensive as at the Coop). I don't know if these were for local university classes or to help students prepare for study in the U.S. I have heard many people here both support and lament the Korean "obsession" with brand-name education in American Universities and the study of English. A friend of mine who teaches at a hagwon (private language schools--think Kaplan on steroids--which abound in Seoul) says that she receives tremendous deference because she went to Yale, and that after Ivy-League schools, the most prestigious institutions are U.S. State universities, because they have names people recognize. Thus, a degree from the University of Iowa, for example, is more prestigious than one from Amherst college.

On a lighter note, when I walked home from the bookstore I passed a new wine shop that opened recently. The shop's full name is Story of Wine, although it goes by this name for short (look in the lower right hand corner after you click the link). I guess the owners didn't go to one of the hagwons.

T-Shirts

Two t-shirts I have seen all over town:

1) Shirts that have the words "Ask? Enquired." somewhere on them. Sometimes "Ask" is on the front and "Enquired" on the back, sometimes the two are next to each other. Often there is an image of a British flag on the shirt as well. I see this shirt at least twice a day. Is this a trend I'm not aware of ? Comments appreciated on this front.
2) The Paris Hilton oversized "That's Hot" t-shirt is very popular here. Good to see we're exporting the very best of our culture. I will keep a lookout for Tonya Harding celebrity boxing t-shirts as well.