the invasion of Korea
Episode 1
I got Seoul... and I'm super bad
The luxury that was Japan has passed into memory and the discomfort that is Korea has hit me up side the head, pretty hard. I didn't want Korea to be this way but from the moment we land, we are no longer relaxed. This place is just America with more Koreans. The traffic and the steering wheels have returned to the right side, the cars are American sized and they use miles not kilometers. There is a blood red, neon cross on every building that seems to be displayed the same way any occupied nation would do if they were trying to appease their occupiers. Everyone here speaks fluent English with no accent and most of the people we have met were born here, raised in America, then deported back here for a drug related charge. This is just another part of America.
On my flight over, I tried to learn as much Korean as I could to aide in my time here, but the entire three hours I dedicated to learning the language were worthless. I haven't used one lick of it and instead I feel compelled to use Spanish everywhere I go. It could be hanging out with Sancho Ponchi too long, but it makes me feel better to ask questions in Spanish and not to even try taking a swing at the multi-syllable "hello" or the long drawn out "goodbye". (both of which I have forgotten)
Seoul is a city divided by a large river and there are two dozens bridges that stretch across it to connect the two major parts of the metropolis. Each bridge is at least half a mile long and each is decorated and designed to be original in every way. Some of them are beautifully decorated wih lights or streamers and every one of them resembles a famous bridge from America or Europe. The beauty of the downtown pales in comparison to that of Tokyo's, but it does look a lot like Sacramento, or St. Louis, or Sioux Falls, or Seattle, or any other city in the world that begins with an "S". Our hotel is in the Itaewon district of Seoul. Itaewon is known for shopping, live seafood restaurants and hookers that cost 25 dollars. Mostly Russian and Thai. Hookers, not restaurants.
To maintain his consistent way, Sancho Ponchi is eating Burger King and drinking Korean coke, which he tells me tastes like Pepsi. I have long given up trying to get him to try any of the food here. The night we arrive, the temperature was rapidly lowering to below freezing and we are wearing every piece of clothing we own as we walk down the street looking at Koko Chanel and Prata bags. The prices here are ridiculously cheap and I think that has everything to do with them being factory fresh (the glue is still hot). It's fun to window shop here but it's hard to fight off the locals that want to drag you down into small basements to get you to go to their shop for business, or to show you where to watch a woman pleasure a horse. If the aggressive shop owners aren't grabbing you, then the "door hookers" are. These women hang out just inside the door of every bar on "hooker hill" and they pop out of the door as you pass by and grab you as you walk by. (When I say grab you, I don't mean by the arm. Some parts of Korea are alllll right) It's very unsettling at first, and my normally foul mouthed, big talkin' Latino companion is noticeably silent and reserved. If you have a social disorder or a social anxiety then this isn't the town to for you. Or, at least, not the hill for you.
Unless you're George Bush.
This tour is going to be a lot of staying in my room because there have been arrests in Australia, protests against Americans in Seoul and Mr. Bush will be visiting Busan during my visit to Busan. I guess he's a big fan of mine. Anyway, the orders came back and we are stuck on base for this leg of the trip due to high levels of security. I will admit, I am tired, and that might be okay.
The only draw back to being grounded for a week is that my room is pretty small and it smells of death. I'm sure many a horse has contracted AIDS and died in this room from fucking to many door gals. It's either that or the amazing smell coming up from the sex club in the basement below me. Well, actually no, everything here just smells of death.
Before I went in, I ate something from a street vendor and I can only assume it was cat (there are very few here). It moved through me pretty quickly and I am not sure I want to try much of the local cuisine again. I am saddened by the prospect of a whole week in Korea without getting to see any of the city's palaces or the countryside. There are some great temples here to see and I really wanted to see the DMZ. Of course, after the state department party and Russian embassy protest, I don't think I would be able to get the chaperone that a tour to the DMZ requires. I think my status as a questionable American is rising quite a bit.
So, for the next few days, I might be a little shy on the posts but I shall attempt to keep you abreast of my trip should anything change. 6 days to departure, then I go to the Korea of North America, Tacoma.
I got Seoul... and I'm super bad
The luxury that was Japan has passed into memory and the discomfort that is Korea has hit me up side the head, pretty hard. I didn't want Korea to be this way but from the moment we land, we are no longer relaxed. This place is just America with more Koreans. The traffic and the steering wheels have returned to the right side, the cars are American sized and they use miles not kilometers. There is a blood red, neon cross on every building that seems to be displayed the same way any occupied nation would do if they were trying to appease their occupiers. Everyone here speaks fluent English with no accent and most of the people we have met were born here, raised in America, then deported back here for a drug related charge. This is just another part of America.
On my flight over, I tried to learn as much Korean as I could to aide in my time here, but the entire three hours I dedicated to learning the language were worthless. I haven't used one lick of it and instead I feel compelled to use Spanish everywhere I go. It could be hanging out with Sancho Ponchi too long, but it makes me feel better to ask questions in Spanish and not to even try taking a swing at the multi-syllable "hello" or the long drawn out "goodbye". (both of which I have forgotten)
Seoul is a city divided by a large river and there are two dozens bridges that stretch across it to connect the two major parts of the metropolis. Each bridge is at least half a mile long and each is decorated and designed to be original in every way. Some of them are beautifully decorated wih lights or streamers and every one of them resembles a famous bridge from America or Europe. The beauty of the downtown pales in comparison to that of Tokyo's, but it does look a lot like Sacramento, or St. Louis, or Sioux Falls, or Seattle, or any other city in the world that begins with an "S". Our hotel is in the Itaewon district of Seoul. Itaewon is known for shopping, live seafood restaurants and hookers that cost 25 dollars. Mostly Russian and Thai. Hookers, not restaurants.
To maintain his consistent way, Sancho Ponchi is eating Burger King and drinking Korean coke, which he tells me tastes like Pepsi. I have long given up trying to get him to try any of the food here. The night we arrive, the temperature was rapidly lowering to below freezing and we are wearing every piece of clothing we own as we walk down the street looking at Koko Chanel and Prata bags. The prices here are ridiculously cheap and I think that has everything to do with them being factory fresh (the glue is still hot). It's fun to window shop here but it's hard to fight off the locals that want to drag you down into small basements to get you to go to their shop for business, or to show you where to watch a woman pleasure a horse. If the aggressive shop owners aren't grabbing you, then the "door hookers" are. These women hang out just inside the door of every bar on "hooker hill" and they pop out of the door as you pass by and grab you as you walk by. (When I say grab you, I don't mean by the arm. Some parts of Korea are alllll right) It's very unsettling at first, and my normally foul mouthed, big talkin' Latino companion is noticeably silent and reserved. If you have a social disorder or a social anxiety then this isn't the town to for you. Or, at least, not the hill for you.
Unless you're George Bush.
This tour is going to be a lot of staying in my room because there have been arrests in Australia, protests against Americans in Seoul and Mr. Bush will be visiting Busan during my visit to Busan. I guess he's a big fan of mine. Anyway, the orders came back and we are stuck on base for this leg of the trip due to high levels of security. I will admit, I am tired, and that might be okay.
The only draw back to being grounded for a week is that my room is pretty small and it smells of death. I'm sure many a horse has contracted AIDS and died in this room from fucking to many door gals. It's either that or the amazing smell coming up from the sex club in the basement below me. Well, actually no, everything here just smells of death.
Before I went in, I ate something from a street vendor and I can only assume it was cat (there are very few here). It moved through me pretty quickly and I am not sure I want to try much of the local cuisine again. I am saddened by the prospect of a whole week in Korea without getting to see any of the city's palaces or the countryside. There are some great temples here to see and I really wanted to see the DMZ. Of course, after the state department party and Russian embassy protest, I don't think I would be able to get the chaperone that a tour to the DMZ requires. I think my status as a questionable American is rising quite a bit.
So, for the next few days, I might be a little shy on the posts but I shall attempt to keep you abreast of my trip should anything change. 6 days to departure, then I go to the Korea of North America, Tacoma.
posted by Daniel Loomis | 7:58 PM
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