Korean Times

I struggled to swallow the flavorless, dry bread. We were 7 hrs into our flight to Korea, and I couldn't adjust my seat in any way that would ease the burning pain in my lower back. A thought crossed my mind that I whispered to James:

"What if I asked for 5 more things of butter. And then the stewardess comes over and sees us completely coating the bread in butter."

"And then we just start shoving it up our asses," said James.

We both burst out laughing. We had watched three movies already (Cocaine Bear being the best), but it was time for Renfield. We looked around and saw three people watching The Lord of the Rings. 

"We can watch that on the way back," said James. I nodded.

We drifted in and out of sleep until the plane "landed": literally fishtailing until it came to a halt.

"How did no one scream?" I asked. 

"Good question. This pilot's drunk."

We were in Korea. We de-boarded and entered a quiet, carpeted airport. I used the water fountain, expecting it to burst in my face like the squirters in the US. But the water shot in a perfect rainbow arc: a stream without mess. I went to the bathroom, noting the hand holds at the urinals for the handicapped. The stall had a door with no peep hole and was cleaner than the cleanest bathroom in America. 

I'm by baggage claim 17, James texted.

He guided me to the metro, only briefly confused as he got his bearings from memories of previous visits to Korea. I thought the escalator was broken, but when I got close, twin pillars lit up green and the escalator started moving. 

"They actually conserve energy here," said James.  

We made jokes that weren't funny the whole way to the hotel, delirious and hungry. We unloaded our shit, sweating profusely in a hotel with weak AC. 

"Let's get some food while this place cools down," he said. 

The scene that greeted me in some fried chicken restaurant was overwhelming. Loud noise from a table playing a drinking game. Korean waiters, impatiently waiting for us to figure out how to order. James got his bearings quickly and soon we had a basket piled obscenely high with spicy, marinated chicken and sesame seeds. On the side was cabbage with kewpie mayo and a spicy red sauce. 

"You want cider?" he asked. "It's like Sprite but better."

"Sure," I said, anything sounding good at that point. 

And it was better than Sprite. It tasted like Sprite but without the bite and a delicious aftertaste resembling ginger ale. James had a beer.

We got back to the hotel but it wasn't much cooler. But we drifted into oblivion soon enough. Morning came too soon and it was time for the ordination. I was in no mood but forced myself into the guayabera and black pants I'd brought for the occasion. 

The ordination was 2 hrs long, and somehow James and I stayed awake: probably due to the insanely caffeinated lattes we'd had on the way. I'd tried to drink my latte on the bus until the driver yelled "no drinking coffee". 

I caught up with old friends after church and joined the reception where large trays covered in tiny appetizers ranging from steamed squid to kimchi awaited us. I devoured it all.

We went to the LC house after and sang our hearts out, celebrating the day. We ate pizza covered in strange toppings and more fried chicken. I wasn't really there mentally, and the jet lag was catching up. We still stayed out til 2am. 

As a result of sleepless nights, James and I both caught colds that we endured for the next few days, still going out when we had the energy. Between trips for Acetaminophen, James taught me to read Korean, not that I could understand much, but the alphabet was fairly easy to pick up. 

I went for a massage too and the lady gasped when I walked into her store without taking my shoes off. I apologized and got into the flip flops sitting by the door. She wasted no time in dumping hot wax on my back and spreading it around with what felt like a squeegee. She said something in Korean, and I nodded without understanding (as I often do), and she proceeded to put cups on my back that started sucking the life outta me. It hurt, but I felt amazing after; just wishing I'd tried to understand before consenting.

We had some rainy days, and every Korean would use umbrellas. Seriously. I couldn't find one person without one. But James and I walked without umbrellas, relishing the relief from the heat afforded us by the cold showers. And it was HOT. Every fucking day. James would sweat through everything he wore, and if I accidentally got too close, our arms would touch and I'd get greased.

Seoul mesmerized me. Ever street corner smelled like fragrant pork and spicy noodles. There was no litter. Tiny shops, stacked on top of one another at least 4 stories high, lined both sides of every street and the sheer amount of them kept me guessing at how big the city really was. 

Our sessions of relaxation included the same routine: snacks from the "nice 2 c u" store nearby, Korean cooking show or Kpop on TV (acting primarily as white noise), reading or phone scrolling, and sleeping. 

We tried many different Korean dishes as this was my main motivation for the trip. I tried beef stews with floating egg whites and green onion, tteokbokki, magkeolli, gimbap with spam, Korean bbq (of course), Korean-style Mexican food, and so. much. fried. chicken. The sweet potato latte became my staple drink. We'd go out to bars and meet up with friends late at night for karaoke, arcade games, air hockey, Just Dance, and laughter. I've never laughed so hard in my life, and laughing through the streets of Korea is a fun experience juxtaposed against the serious Koreans in suits glancing with the briefest judgmental glares. 

I connected better with James than I ever had at some Gordon Ramsay-approved restaurant. We shared our deepest secrets and planned to return to Korea to visit Busan and Jeju-do. 

I matched with a cute girl on Tinder who invited me to the bar she worked at. She kept ordering $35 shots for every $15 cocktail I ordered, and I kept paying. I respected the hustle though and she gave me my tattoo idea: 개구쟁이("rascal" in English). 

I got the tattoo in my favorite part of Seoul: Hongdae. The tattoo artist's fingers were manicured and had no business being so gentle. 

James and I hit up a hookah lounge with long lost friends and drank our fill of beer. And rum and coke.

By this point I had developed a taste for magkeolli (rice wine), and we ended up at some hole-in-the wall restaurant where the waiter was unimpressed with a couple of white dudes in his restaurant. He still seated us and started us with tiny dehydrated fish along with a sweet red sauce. And the magkeolli kept coming. We met up with some friends for chicken feet that were so spicy the top of my head felt ice cold. The others had no issue eating the feet in droves. I swear I chewed through a chicken's toenail.

We ended the night at some hole-in-the wall cocktail bar where a pal knew the bartender. We cracked jokes and James was so drunk he couldn't figure out how to open a locked bathroom with a key attached to a wooden paddle. I've never had cocktails so complex and detailed in my entire life, and the price did not reflect that, coming in around only $200 for MANY drinks. In the states I would've spent $400 easily.

Speaking of cheap, they had a restaurant called the "No Brand Burger", where I spent only $13 for two entire meals (burgers, fries, drinks). In the states, McDonald's can cost $13 for a single meal. The No Brand Burger ads felt like anti ads: "Why Spend More?", "We're Good Enough". I swear to god those signs were bright and colorful in the restaurant windows.

We cleaned up the airbnb and now we're sitting in the airport where we just realized we'll have a 12 hr layover in Toronto. We plan to hit up downtown and pass the time as best we can. The airport apparently has showers too.

I want to return to Korea. For the food. For the friendship. It doesn't seem like an easy place to make friends randomly, but the friends I have here are worth the trip, and I feel closer to them than ever. I won't miss Seoul's blistering heat or the general feeling of being a foreigner/different in their eyes. But I'll miss their general attitudes. Koreans toe the line between professionalism and hilarity in a graceful, consistent way. Their language is accessible. Strangers will help you with directions if you're respectful. Their streets feel safe. They're gun free. It's affordable. Health, Dental, and Vision insurance combined costing $40 is considered expensive, and there's no deductible bullshit to deal with. They don't need to enforce cleanliness or handicap spaces with huge fines or penalties. Their culture sees cleanliness and respect as a given, and everyone else better simply get with the program. Their culture naturally elevates everyone who comes into contact, and I think I'm better for it.

Korea is constantly improving, and the younger generation is bringing a welcome wave of tolerance and freedom to their somewhat conservative culture. I can't wait to visit again someday. 

I'm having a hard time saying goodbye :)