Beauty and the Bulgogi

Annyeonghaseyo from Korea!

It is 9:30PM and after 10 hours of traveling, I have finally arrived in Korea--the southern part, not the part where everyone is starving, hates westerners, and is communist. It is difficult to tell though because everyone in Korea yells a lot and is skinny. Therefore, you might think you are in a starving communist country when you are, in fact, in South Korea. The way you can decipher the difference is because everyone here has fun shoes and there is a McDonald's and Starbucks on every street corner just like every other glorious capitalist society.

For those of you, who unlike me, do not have a glamorous job where you travel the world courageously and alone like the Incredible Hulk, you probably take for granted your commute time. Sure, maybe you have to  tackle that horrid HWY 17 and sit in an hour of traffic, or even fly coast to coast bi-weekly, but traveling in Asia is a quest driven by inner strength and wisdom .  Today in order for me to go to work,  first I had to take a Taxi from my house to the airport. (The Taxi driver incidentally hit someone walking across the street, but it was ok because the Taxi was going very slow and after a lot of bowing and gommenisais (sorry) from both parties and the Taxi driver got back in the cab and kept driving).  After I reached the airport by Taxi (1 hour), I went though immigration, and then took a bus around the flight-line and then parked 50 feet away from where we initially boarded the bus next to a plane (5 minutes).  I was then on a plane where I was served a delicious combination of fish-rice-balls and kimchi (2 hours), then I took a sky-shuttle to immigration (10 minutes), then I took the subway to the Seoul train station (1 hour), then I took the KTX to the station I needed to get to (fast train-2 hours), then I took another Taxi to a bus stop (15 minutes), where I then had to walk into a mall, take one elevator to another elevator, walk down a corridor, take another elevator down one level and find the 8th floor which is the hotel reception (30 minutes).  

I always feel a sense of accomplishment when I reach my hotel room when I travel. Abroad, you never know if your reservation has been lost, or randomly cancelled, or if you are even in the right city. Today, I was so excited about getting to the room that I inverted the numbers and tried to enter 1445 instead of 1544.  A very surprised European Man-Beast opened the door wearing his hotel robe, a chest-rug of machismo, and a thick, greasy, come-hither mustache. I looked at him, gasped "Gommenisai" and literally ran down the hall banging my obnoxious light blue polka-dot suitcase and oversized-laptop case against the wall as I fled for my life.  I get confused when I travel out of Japan now, so I speak to everyone who is not instantly identifiable as "American"  in my very limited Japanese.  I can say "hello", "goodbye", "please", "thank you", "sorry", "I am full", "you are pretty", "you are scary", "this one", "I like", "stop it", "beer" and "koala".  Two years in Japan and I can say three more phrases than the first day I landed there....so much for cultural immersion.

When you speak to a Korean in Japanese, they get mad at you for two reasons 1) you are an idiot and speaking to someone in a language that does not come from their country and 2) the Japanese went all "kamikaze"* on the Koreans back in the day and the Koreans are still mad about it because the Japanese haven't really apologized.  It is ironic that a Japanese person who gets hit by a taxi cab will apologize to the taxi cabi for being in the taxi's way (while in a crosswalk), but the nation of Japan will not fully admit to some of the horrible things they did to an entire culture.  Rule number one of being a good colonizer, kick the natives out to nice fenced -off territories of land that they can call "their own" and give them some blankets.  It is time that Korea demands their blankets from the Japanese! This would also help their economy because everyone in Asia knows that the fuzziest, best mink blankets come from Korea, so Japan would have to pay the Koreans to make the blankets to give back to the Koreans---Economy booster and apology all in one. 

And now, all I can think about are those fuzzy blankets. Piles and piles of them in the stores on the streets of Osan.  In fact, I think I will be kind today. I am going to offer the best-gift-ever to a couple of my dedicated readers.  First two comments on my blog** and I will buy you a mink blanket--just choose your color etc. I will notify you of your victory and get your address.Seeing as I only have 17 dedicated readers, the odds are definitely in your favor!

Until the next time-- Goodnight Gangdam Style


*To the annoying reader who likes to find fallacies in everything- yes, I know that the Japanese colonized Korea in the early 20th century, tried to destroy their culture, tortured them in WWII, and made their women "comfort girls" to Japanese soldiers. I used the world kamikaze because it is a fun word. 

** This offer is not valid for psychos, bullies, or my much adored Paul Gillett (you have so many already!)