The Seoul of Asia - Blogabond

November 6 Saturday
At 7:30am we left the hotel by bus for the DMZ, traveling out from Seoul into fields. Beside the expressway ran barbed wire which became higher as we drove north. Before we were allowed to enter the Demilitarized Zone, a soldier of the ROK (South Korea) came on the bus to check our passports – tall, young, unsmiling, in camouflage with white helmet and large sunglasses - he was one of what our guide described as "unhappy campers" sent to the front lines for their 24 month compulsory military service.
The milky smog obliterated the sun and any view from the observation point - which, ironically considering the weather, had a yellow line – no photos allowed from beyond it. So the only idea we got of the landscape, including the extensive mountains, was from a film and a relief model. The 2km-wide no man's land on either side of the Demarcation Line has become a refuge for wildlife – including deer and birds, and we saw a photo of fish swimming over old bullets lying in a stream.
Wearing bright yellow helmets, we descended into the Third Infiltration Tunnel, one of 4 underground passages discovered by the ROK and blamed on the North Koreans' attempt to get 30,000 soldiers a hour through the tunnel to attack Seoul, only 56 m away. An 11% grade heads steeply down to some 73 meters below the surface, a tunnel blasted thru granite with yellow splashes of paint marking the dynamite holes. The walls were apparently blackened by North Korea, the DRK claiming to be searching for coal. Cool, wet granite walls continued down to where a concrete barrier and steel blocked off the further reaches of the tunnel. I don't suffer from claustrophobia but began to feel nauseous so I climbed up slowly (the guide had told us the air is bad enough that they no longer station soldiers down there to ensure we tourists obey the rule of no picture-taking)... now cameras watch us.
We visited souvenir shops where people bought North Korean beer and shogu (a Vodka like drink), rice grown in the DMZ, and chocolate made with soybeans, then the bus took us to a government run shop with uniformed Korean women promoting Korean gingeng products. Offered a thimble cup of ginseng powder dissolved in liquid, I drank it and my stomach bean to recover.
An endless drive back thru crowded, gridlocked traffic of Seoul returned us to city center. The guide would not take us to our hotel, probably because of the traffic, but dropped us close to the palace ... we reached it just in time to watch a changing of the guard -traditionally garbed Korean nobility in stunning red and yellow court costumes. After the procession, we lunched in a Vietnamese noodle shop – anise-flavored broth and shaved beef.
Mary and I walked to a canal where there were festive lanterns of all sizes, some so big they occupied a whole float. Descending to the path along the water, we walked past ones illustrating Korean fairy tales, and aspects of countries participating in the current G20 summit, including kangaroos, Maori,and the Big Ben clock of London. Under a bridge kids were making paper lanterns to hang from the ceiling, the bridge protecting them from the elements.
Crossing the canal by big stepping stones, we ascended the stairs again and encountered a hardware district with many lighting shops brilliant with multi-colored lamps as twilight darkened the city. Then we ventured into a covered arcade resplendent with stalls of fabric, beads, traditional Korean attire , lace and bead headdresses worthy of Cher.
My legs ached and once we reached the subway, I wanted only to return to the hotel even if I had to make my way through the intimidating Seoul underground by myself. But, ironically, this turned out to be the very subway station where Jen, Den and Miriam were to meet us, in about an hour, to go to dinner. I sat on the floor, my calves against the cool hard floor of the station, writing in my notebook, while Mary went foraging for a coffee. I suddenly heard a man say “Hello, mama,” and I looked up. The man asked where I was going and where was I from. He left but, after Mary returned, he came back with 3 packages of “lunch” for us, which consisted of glutinous rice cakes and warm soy milk. As a thank you, Mary gave him the Canadian flag decoration from her handbag and he seemed very pleased with that.
Miriam arrived and seemed not to want anything to do with us crazy foreigners sitting on the ground as Koreans would apparently not do. She stayed at a distance except when I introduced her and our benefactor, John, who turned out to be a Baptist minister who could quote the Bible and count in Aramaic. Mary and I settled into enjoying the unexpected adventure of interacting with a local in a friendly way as we waited for Jen and Den to arrive. But Miriam figured people, including John, thought we were begging or homeless.
Upstairs in a Korean barbecue restaurant, the 5 of us sat on cushions on the floor. The waitress started a round barbecue at each end of the long table. We cooked black pork belly meat and ate it with a great array of side dishes, including rice and soup at the end of the meal.

Sunday November7
Mary and I headed for the palace where we walked through the gardens and looked into doorways and windows. Walls were partitions of white paper. In the grounds of the second palace, we walked around one of the ponds, luxuriating in the autumn colors and enjoying the beautiful Chinese mandarin ducks before their winter migration, colorful males with orange and teal, subtle-colored but gentle and elegant females. In the secret garden, amongst pavilions, ponds, and a 400-year-old mulberry tree, autumn colors were intense even with the city's milky haze.
We hiked to the subway, taking it to where we hiked steeply up the road, stairs and path to a Buddhist temple. At the Buddhist temple, a gray clad monk was ringing a somber big bell, striking it with a huge cylindrical log suspended horizontally. Inside the temple, a sacred place with the front wall a row of golden Buddhas above multi-colored petals of illuminated lotus flowers, red and green lanterns hung from the ceiling. A wall was composed of rows of small Buddhas in niches. I knelt to speak my thanks, for being there, silently but fervently. Neither of us made any flash photographs, even though we were alone with the Divine.... the image would have been of a different place.
Across the path, another gray clad monk lit with the red light of an electric heater was working at books.
Climbing higher we approached a shrine where a man appeared to be scrubbing the ground before him, pushin his hands forward and drawing them back ... yet it had the fervency of prayer and we slipped quietly by lest he be embarrassed or at least his intensity interrupted.
Yet further up the mountain we came to a Dali-esque rock above another shrine. The rock was shaped like a huge egg with elongated Swiss cheese holes. A woman was prostrating herself as if in repeated Salutations to the Sun. Offerings of food and drink were on the altar as well as incense and candles. Climbing still higher, we came to a smaller Buddhist shrine, although these places of worship seemed to combine aspects of both Buddhism and Shamanism. Stairs in the rock ascended still higher – in the gloaming we placed our feet carefully, then sat gazing out over the city lights below as darkness fell.
A maze of steep narrow laneways took us down past people's houses of a residential neighborhood until we again reached the plateau of shops, including ones selling pizza and fried chicken, and the subway. Despite my tired, aching legs, I felt a tranquil exhilaration at our experiences of the day, plus my beginning to comprehend Seoul's intimidating subway system.
What luxury, back at our hotel, not to have to go out again but shower and just walk down the hall from our room to the lounge where our temporary membership scores us not only a beer but “appetizers” that more than suffice for supper. When they returned from pizza and garlicky salad at an Italian restaurant nearby, Jennifer and Miriam found us there by the picture window, city night lights spread out below us.

November 8 Monday
Mary, Jennifer, Miriam and I made our way two subway stops to another area of modern urbanity – storeys-high neon signs and tv screens, trendy shops, and ads displaying platinum-blond Korean models. After some hunting, we found the second floor Dr Fish spa, where you pay W2000 for access to sit beside a long rectangular box set in the floor, containing water and small fish, who immediately when you put your feet into the water, rush to nibble on them. Initially the sensation is so intense a tickle that you grimace and twist but eventually you settle down into watching the little pink mouths kiss and pluck at your skin, apparently eating off the dead skin. Ironically the watery coffee, or other drinks you are expected to buy, cost W4800 to 6800 more than twice the price of the unforgettable experience of being food for the fish!.. but the spacious spa with picture windows looking over the street, “self bar” of breads to eat with butter and jam, along with our coffee, gave us a luxurious relaxation before Jenn and Miriam headed for the airport, and Mary and I lugged our suitcases to the subway for a trip on 3 different lines, transferring twice, ending at Suwon, a distinct city from Seoul, although with no break in the urban metropolis.

written by

chertop on November 8, 2010 from Seoul, South Korea

from the travel blog: Japan and South Korea 2010

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