Yeouido

Yeouido Island is a business park located on an island in the middle of the Han River. I had heard of the place many months before I ever came here, so I knew I would want to see the Korean version of a skyscraper at some point. With little to do before classes started, I took a subway into the heart of Yeouido (yoh-wei-doh) on Sunday morning.

The Seoul Metro is a polished and airy way to get around the city in no time. I am reluctant to delay so many posts for later on, but like Hongdae and foreigners, I want to wait until I know a bit more. In short, the trip was startling quiet and clean, even by Washington, D.C. Metro standards.

What I found on the island was a bit dissapointing, there was none of the grandeur or immense size of Midtown Manhattan, but it was very spacious. The center of the island is a large public park, where dozens of families took advantage of the Sunday afternoon to rent rollerblades and make their awkward way around the bike paths.
On one side of the park is the headquarters of the Korean Broadcasting System, kind of like NBC in America. The building was unremarkable, but stretched out along the sidewalk was a long banner carrying anti-President Lee Myung-Bak slogans. Nearby were some caricatures of the Presidents and even an angry-looking cow, (i.e. a "mad cow").

Coming out of Yeouido I took some pictures of the local oilbank (gas station, gas here is about $8 a gallon) and some of the more impressive sights from the bridge.
...and the largest church I've ever seen.

Beginnings of Hongdae

Hongdae is the name for a dense area of shops, bars, and dance clubs outside of Hongik Univeristy, ("Hongdae" can be translated as "Hongik University"). Say the name to any cabdriver, student, or expat and they know exactly what you are talking about.

I'll have to post an update later with more pictures from the area at night, when it turns from quiet dinner district into a thoroughfare filled with fashionably dressed young Korean couples looking for a drink. The best picture I have so far is below, you can tell that a lot of the clubs and events here are given an American name. Almost all of the music in the larger bars sounds likes it comes from American artists, but Korea has its own big pop and hip-hop scene, hopefully I'll have more to talk about concerning it later on.

(edit: I added a few more pictures of the nightlife in Hongdae, the amount of neon makes up for the lack of streetlights)Living in the dormitories at Yonsei University has its upsides and its irritations. Rent for this month is cheap, but every students has to adhere to a curfew that is conservative by any American standard. Come midnight, every door to the building is locked, and the night watchmen just watch you passively when you plead at the door. At 5:30 am the doors are unlocked, the result being a lot of exhausted Americans stumble in early in the morning rather than cut short their night. My first night in Hongdae I ended up sleeping on a bench outside of my building, bitten by mosquitoes and cursing the administration.

The streets of Hongdae have plenty of foreigners, many of them Americans here to teach English. After meeting with a few former teachers on the street, we were introduced to one of the expat bars. Called the "Rocky Mountain Tavern," I saw more white faces there than I have in the rest of Korea combined. While the mood was familiar, I found myself uncomfortable being around a large group of Americans after getting used to Korea. Most of the people we met described the bar as a regular hangout, but I guess if I was alone in the country without a program I might be more inclined to keep myself isolated from native Koreans.

I haven't had enough experience with Americans here yet, so I want to hold off until later to give my opinion. From what I have seen so far, the average American I see here is quite different from people of the same age group that I know back home.

trip to the South

My program for the next five weeks, the Yonsei Korean Language Institute Summer Special Program, (to be exact), is largely a way for Korean-Americans to return to the motherland and learn the language. While language instruction may be the reason why some students joined, many more have no problem saying their parents compelled them to come and they are far more interested in learning about the effects of soju, (cheap Korean rice liquor) on their system than they are about learning a new language. As one of three white people, (I would tiptoe around and call myself Caucasian, but as my nickname is most often "whitey" among the other members of the trip, it seems appropriate) I stuck out quite a bit.

The first stop was at the Korean Folk Village (Hangook Minsokchon), kind of like a Colonial Williamsburg for Korea. I learned that every Korean high school student goes on the same trip as mine, and I saw very few tourists that were not attached to a whole bus load of similar people. Our guide for the trip actually took us aside when we first arrived at the Village and explained that despite our being Americans and loving "individuality," we had to move as a unit.
The village itself was interesting, built just thirty years ago. Everyone we spoke to seemed quite proud of the ability of the government to hold onto this chunk of land and keep traditions alive. Despite this introduction, all of the buildings were erected in the 1970s, surprisingly recent for a country that had a long history of advanced culture and cultural achievement. For all the fuss about America being a new country, we still preserve a great deal.

From the Village we shot across Korea to the province of Gyeongju. Our hotel for the next three days was immense, I know it sounds strange, but I felt like it was North Korean in terms of scale and dated architecture. Our one hundred and twenty students were swallowed up in the 8-story building, which was at odds with the small rural town surrounding it. What the place might have lacked in charm, it made up in location, the view was great.
You can just see in the distance some vibrant green fields, those are just a few of the millions of rice fields we saw in those few days. I don't exaggerate here, there didn't seem to be a single acre of lowland Korea not filled with orderly rows of rice stalks. The mountains hidden in the mist are another fixture in the country; it is completely filled with mountains. Home in Connecticut has a few ridges and hills, they are put to shame by the Korean countryside.

The mist has also followed me since I arrived in Korea, July apparently sees a lot of rain and sweltering temperatures. I will be here for the bitter cold of midwinter as well, at this point some freezing weather doesn't sound too bad.

The best part of the hurried tour of traditional Korean spots in the next few days was Seokguram and Bulguk-sa. The former is a buddhist shrine, the most famous in the country, set into the side of a mountain and holding an immense granite Buddha. Bulguk-sa is a restored Buddhist temple complex nearby, equally beautiful. Both of these sites are also functioning religious ground, I saw a handful of bowed older women praying at Seokguram and we were told that one hundred grey-robed monks still live at Bulguk-sa. I can only imagine what they think about the parade of camera-wielding tourists that passes by some of the holiest sites in the country. None of my shots feature the inside of the temples, white-gloved attendants instructed that there was a "no photo prohibition," which makes sense, I can only imagine how difficult it would be finding inner peace while bombarded with camera flashes.
After returning to Yonsei's campus at the end of the trip to the south, I was ready to see more of the modern, non-touristy Korea.

Korea up to now

I'll save the events of Saturday night for the next post, the week I've already spent here deserves a short story of its own.

After overcoming a wicked case of jet lag, I spent my first night/day walking around the main street in the district of Mapo-gu, close to Yonsei University, where I will be spending the next five weeks. Mapo-gu holds an incredible variety of life, from towering office blocks to crooked brickwalled back streets, and of course the famous Hongdae. Hongdae deserves a post of its own in the future, once I have a grasp on a bar district that tops any I've seen in the states.

I had heard a few disparaging remarks about the architecture of Korea, described as little more than utilitarian concrete towers and copies of western architecture. What I found was a raucous combination of brightly colored walls, homes peeking out at the street from under traditional ceramic roofs, as well as gleaming car dealerships. The combination itself, merging the old with the new, is new and wonderful.

I'll try to get some better shots that capture the feeling of the little alleyways.

After two days in the city, I took off for southeastern Korea on a trip with my language program, pictures will come later.