Ko-RoRo-rea Visit (Man about town)

RoRo's visit just happened to coincide with Chuseok, a major harvest festival and a 3-day holiday celebrated much like the American Thanksgiving. That is, people all over Korea travel to their hometowns to visit with family and share a feast of traditional foods. This movement en masse, within a country the size of the state of Maine can present extreme travel challenges, unless you do what we did, and travel on the one day that is the actual holiday when everyone is at home honoring their ancestors and scarfing down songpyeon (a crescent-shaped rice cake steamed on pine needles).


On Chuseok morning we entered a nearly silent Seoul Station and boarded the KTX (Korea's high-speed train) for a 50-minute ride south to Daejeon, the city I call my "hometown", where we were graciously invited to share in a Chuseok celebration with my landlord and his family. As is customary in both cultures, I took a gift to the hosts -- home-baked cookies -- and we joined in a colorful celebration of food, friends and fun. With only 2 people at the gathering who spoke even a bit of English, the occasion was a rather quiet one, which is common for Koreans at meal time, but always a bit uncomfortable for me -- a generally gregarious guest. Yet, with some properly placed, "mmmmm's" and the final "mah-she-tah!" (delicious!), we managed to convey our appreciation and expected to make an early exit. However, after the tables had been cleared away, and with all of us still sitting on the floor, Mr. Kim broke out a giant board game and the formal feast was now replaced with a fun and festive game of yut-nori. This deeply traditional game is played in teams and often treated as a social spectacle with onlookers and team members shouting loudly, encouraging each other and shooting for a certain score. Four wooden sticks that serve as a kind of dice are thrown in turn, then each team member moves their token around the board according to the scored achieved. While I've never known it to be associated with gambling, our little family game wound up costing us 500 won! That's when I wondered if Mr. Kim was a landlord or a landshark :>).



Day dawned in Daejeon under a bright blue dome of the sky and a big yellow ball of sunshine. It was definitely a day to go out and play, especially since it was my last vacation day from school. Here was my chance to say "welcome to my world". Daejeon (pronounced: day-john) is the 5th largest city in Korea with a population of 1.5 million people. Located almost dead center and surrounded by mountains, Daejeon translates in English to "large field", but this big city is far from dead, and is the perfect playground for a day's jaunt about town.


Taking his first city bus ride was the perfect place to start. The public transportation system in Korea is amazing. It is clean and safe and cheap and efficient and extremely popular, but buses can be a treacherous way to travel for unsuspecting tourists. While waiting for the bus on an enclosed bench of seats, watching the computerized schedule monitor scroll through the various ETAs, one is deceived into thinking that a slick and smooth ride is to about to arrive. However, this civilized urban scene suddenly shifts into a scramble to squeeze through the small forward door, swipe your pass and immediately secure your standing position before the driver lunges into a lane of traffic leaving you laying in an aisle of Asians. Because this was my first lesson after arriving in Daejeon, and my job here is to teach, I thought I should share this important information and experience with RoRo in the hopes that he could learn from it. What I learned is that some students are just more experiential learners than others...as I caught his fall many times.

Later, with a foothold on solid ground, we took a walk through the park -- Expo Park, that is. Commemorating the 1993 International Exposition held in Daejeon, this theme park of sorts has its focus on science and the future. Among its many pavillions centered around such subjects as electric energy, Earth scapes, and technopia, and with features like the IMAX theater, Turbo Ride, and Hanbit Tower & Observatory, it aims to enhance the young mind about the importance of science, and encourages cultural exchanges by upholding the points discussed and agreed upon at the '93 Expo. So, in keeping with the theme, we enhanced our not-so-young minds by 'upholding' a bottle of Korean beer and engaging in culturally incorrigible behavior :>). This was a play day, after all.


However, playing it down a little, we went up into Hanbit Tower for a look around, crossed over the Gapcheon (river) under the crossed arches of Expo Bridge, and simply strolled straight through the Government Complex to finish our game of 'trek in field'.

With the major events of the day behind us and needing some food in front of us, we went uptown to chow down on some Dak galbi, my personal favorite Korean food. This dish is generally made by stir-frying marinated diced chicken, sliced cabbage, sweet potato, and onion together in a chili pepper paste sauce. It is spicy, delicious and inexpensive, which afforded us some spare change to spend in our spare time amidst the bright lights of the big city -- the Time World area. This hub of happening is like a miniature Times Square in that it marks a major intersection surrounded by bustling blocks of urban ammenities. While it is not considered a theater district per se, I have seen many a 'show' there, as it is the place to see and be seen.

Ko-RoRo-rea Visit (Seoul Man)

Planes, trains and automobiles was not just a movie, it was the means by which RoRo (and I) moved into and around the city of Seoul. Taking a late bus into the city, I had to call the hotel to guarantee our reservations and to get directions from wherever the bus would drop us off. I was given the name, Mia-4-dong bus stop, and told that the hotel would be just a short walk from there. After confirming with a fellow passenger that we were approaching the right area for our disembarkment, we began looking for the Hotel Victoria. Our heads bobbed and weaved, scanning the cityscape for an English sign or stature of a building that would yield that "aha" moment. With a heavy hydraulic sigh, the bus came to our stop, belched open the doors and spit us onto the soggy sidewalk, supposedly somewhere in the vicinity of the "Victoria". With our suitcases slam-dancing behind us as we tried to dodge raindrops and other pedestrians, we quickly opted for the convenience of a taxi. Relieved to be out of the rain and ready to relax, I relayed the hotel address to the driver whose response was reluctant, if not resistent. In his rapid-fire Korean, he ranted at us while remaining stationary. So, in my own way of Korean communication, I waved a wad of won in front of him, and away we went! No sooner had we pulled out of the queue and into the heavy traffic did we come to a halt in the far lane of the divided street where the driver fired off more shots at communication while pointing to a tall building on the same side of the street where the bus had delivered us less than a half-hour before. Leaning low in the back seat to see what the driver was so riled about, we saw the light -- the lighted sign reading Hotel Victoria! That "aha" moment had finally arrived, but immediately and amusingly gave way to its less emotional mate, the "oh well" mindset. So, 1 U-turn, 20 minutes in rush hour traffic, 3 kilometers out of our way, and almost $5 later, we arrived two blocks from our original point of disembarkment at Mia-4-dong. At this point I felt like: mia-more-a-ding-dong :~/.





A rare day of sunshine illuminated our way through this city of contrast where one can stroll the sprawling grounds of an ancient royal palace, sit high atop a skyscraper sipping on cool drinks, promanade the regentrified river area, and steep in traditional arts & crafts in the cultural district. On our Seoul-full day we started with ancient history. Our visit to Gyeongbokgung Palace was perfectly timed with the changing of the guard ceremony and the weather afforded so many warm and bright photo ops. The grandest of the 5 royal palaces in Seoul, Gyeongbokgung was first constructed in 1394 by the Joseon Dynasty and contains several halls and pavilions. The name, Gyeongbokgung, translates in English to "Palace of Shining Happiness". Clearly, we picked an apt day for a visit there.

For me, the best way to be a sightseer is to "rise" to the occasion. So, rise we did -- all the way to the 33rd floor of Jongno Tower where we got out of the sun and into the Top Cloud restaurant for a birds-eye view of the ground we had yet to cover. I am a self-proclaimed "heightophile". That is, I do not have a fear of heights. Rather, I have a love of them. I guess you could say, I love to be high :>), and everything about this place was high. In this high-class, high-priced, high-rise establishment, where with an initial high-5 clap, and a total of 4 high-quality cocktails, my high spirits descended rapidly when I realized the check came to almost 80 U.S. dollars! Needless to say, we high-tailed it out of there right away.

Back down to earth, and wanting a taste of tradition, we trekked down Insadong-gil. Gil means "street" in Korean and this one street is one of Seoul's most famous and most visited. This narrow road with its line-up of Korean curios spilling from every doorway feels like a pedestrian mall of antique furniture and handicraft boutiques, calligraphy and mask studios, art galleries and traditional Korean restaurants and tearooms. Following in the footsteps of the crowd, we took a gander at a few goodies, but I only gave in to a gift for a friend back home and a bag of roasted chestnuts (which are sold by street vendors all over Korea). Needing a rest from the pedestrian mall and lifestyle, we took a rest in a second-floor tearoom where RoRo could put his feet up. Being a pedestrian in a big city takes a bit of adjustment for most Americans. While good shoes and thick socks usually pad a pedestrian's paws, for RoRo, they served to strangle and suffocate his dogs. So, he shed his shoes and scuffed along in his socks. God rest his soles!



As the sun was begining to set we were begining to starve, so we pounded the pavement looking for the perfect place for dinner. Crossing the bridge over the Cheonggye stream, which is an 8.4 km long modern public recreation space in downtown Seoul, we stumbled on a sensational sam gyap sal restaurant. In an open-air dining room overlooking the stream, we pigged out on this grilled pork dish, shared shots of soju (a Korean liquor) and vowed not to do so much "Seoul searching" tomorrow.

Ko-RoRo-rea Visit (Military Man)

In September, a loved one from the U.S., who I affectionately call "RoRo", came to Korea for a visit. I was so excited to have a guest to host and a companion to accompany on new adventures here in my new 'home away from home'. As a veteran of the Korean war, he was able to say that he had actually been to Korea before, but under such tragic conditions and such a long time ago, I felt certain he would experience a place unbeknownst to him ever before. The famous author, Henry Miller once said, "One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things". This was my sincerest hope for my first visitor from home.

After taking a rather contorted tranportation route from the airport, we started with the sight where it all began, Incheon Harbor and the Memorial Hall for the Incheon Landing Operation. This beautifully maintained war memorial was built in 1984 to honor those in the UN Forces who sacrificed their lives to preserve the democracy and freedom of South Korea that was being threatened by the invasion of communist forces. Immediately upon entering the main museum, we were greeted warmly and offered an English speaking guide who did his best to explain many of the photographic panels, exhibits of uniforms and weaponry, and an illuminated diorama of the events of the Incheon Landing Operation. Upon learning that RoRo was a U.S. Marine who served during the war, our gracious guide honored him with many bows and thanks, which is typical of most of the Korean people who experienced or have an understanding of the war. Outside the air-conditioned museum, we climbed countless stairs for a close-up look at the Tower of Liberty Protection (Freedom Tower), and with an "about face", we were able to take in a panoramic view of the sea and the setting sun reflecting off the waters of the Seohaean coast.

Continuing with the military theme, we boarded a bus bound for as far North as any American is allowed to go -- the DMZ. On a damp and dreary morning, reading the clearly stated tour rules such as: No jeans, short pants, short skirts, sleeveless shirts, sandals or military-looks, we prepared ourselves accordingly, presented our required passports and proceeded with a very wet, whirlwind tour of the Demilitarized Zone. Seven kilometers from the demarcation line, we made our first stop at Imijingak Park. Built to console those from both sides who are unable to return to their hometowns, friends and families because of the division of Korea, this is where the Bridge of Freedom lies. It is said that 13,000 war captives crossed this bridge crying "hurrah for freedom", which gave it this apt name. Covering the railings of the small landing on which we stood, as well as the footbridge that crawled out to connect with the larger span were thousands of colorful ribbons with messages of hope for unification.

Our small shuttle van swirled farther north until we reached the 3rd Infilteration Tunnel site, which is actually inside the DMZ area. After a brief, albeit obligatory educational film about the war and location of the 4 tunnels, we were advised to unencumber ourselves and instructed to store our bags in the lockers provided before we would be allowed to descend into the tunnel. At the opening of this skinny, black pipeline that snakes its way 1.1 miles through bedrock buried some 73 meters (240 ft.) under Korean soil were walls lined with bright yellow hard hats and a sign stating that they must be worn in the tunnel. As a natural response for RoRo, whose career was in construction, he dutifully obliged while I wondered if this was really necessary for a short, fit, woman adventurer like myself. Leaning backwards and holding the hand rail we began our descent down the approximately 15 degree ramp into the 6.6 ft. high and 6.6ft. wide darkness known as the Tunnel of Agression.

Designed for a surprise attack on Seoul from North Korea, we were told that this tunnel could easily accommodate 30,000 soldiers per hour along with light weaponry. It was supposedly discovered and revealed by a North Korean defector. Initially, and as usual, North Korea denied building it, but later claimed that it was part of a coal mine, and painted the walls black to help confirm their statement. However, with a little scientific research, South Korea determined it to be geologically impossible to find coal in the granite walls through which the tunnel was dug. Also, with a bit of first hand experience, these two Americans determined this little trek was not for a claustrophobic, and hard hats were definitely necessary. After going half-way down, we laughed at the idea of stooping and squinting our way through another half-mile just to look at a wall (the 3rd blockade), so we did another "about face" and headed back up the ramp.

Conveniently located adjacent to the tunnel entrance/exit was a small souvenir shop where I bought some chocolate-covered soybeans and a bottle of North Korean beer while RoRo rested and chatted up our pretty, young tour guide. Overhearing him tell her that he had indeed been to Korea before -- during the war -- I turned around to find another Korean bowing and giving thanks to this military man for his service. Only this time, instead of the mild mannered "don't mention it" attitude he gave the older gentleman at Memorial Hall, RoRo was all aglow with the color and pride of a performing peacock :>).

During the drive to the next tour destinations -- Dora Observatory and Dorasan Station -- the weather worsened and rendered any far away views or photo ops unfeasible for us. Despite the downpour, arriving at the observatory, everyone piled off the bus and headed straight for the line up of binocular view finders to search in vain for a glimpse of the North Korean city, Kijongdong. Also known as Propaganda Village, this town is actually a facade constructed of brightly colored concrete shells of buildings without any window glass or interior rooms, and a giant flag pole on which an enormous North Korean flag hangs. Building lights are turned off and on at set intervals and loud speakers regularly blare anti-western propaganda speeches and patriotic marching music. This fake city was built in the 50s in an effort to convince South Koreans that the citizens of the north were living a life of luxury and prosperity, and encouraging defection from the south. We declined our turn at the outdoor observation binoculars and darted into the dry auditorium adjacent to the drenched deck. Inside was a detailed diorama of the DMZ area and a red horizontal line painted on the picture window to show where the far side of the 4-mile wide zone is.

The last stop on our tour is actually the last train stop in South Korea as well. Dorasan station is pretty much your average train station except that it is devoid of any passengers. All that can be seen in this sterile station are soldiers and tourists and symbols of hope for unification. Once a week a train leaves Dorasan station headed north to Pyongyang to take supplies there, but several times a week, incoming trains from Seoul arrive at Dorasan station with those supplies. We learned that if the North and South are ever unified, it would be possible to take the train from Seoul to anywhere in Europe via the Trans Siberian Railway. Talk about an intercontinental excursion!

Having flown halfway around the world and engaging in non-stop action on a two-day mission of military museums, monuments, maintaining a Marine mindset, and magical moments of glory and honor, RoRo was a real trooper to jettison his jetlag and journey forward from this "place" of his past into what I hope was a starting point for a new way of seeing this "destination".