Capital City

(View of downtown Seoul from Namsan tower on a day of particularly bad hwangsa)

After too many consecutive weekends spent in Ulsan, I finally made a long overdue return journey to Seoul this weekend to see my Chicago-era friend, Ja-young. For those that know her, Ja-young is in excellent spirits and currently working towards getting a position at the United Nations in Korea. Thankfully, she wasn't opposed to me tearing her away from her preparation for a couple of days, and thus I was able to renew my love affair with Korea's capital city. Before I go any further, I should note that Ulsan does have its charm, as hard as that may be to believe, and that my affection for Seoul probably has a lot to do with the fact that I don't actually live there. But I can assure anyone in Seoul who may be reading this that there is a lot more to do in your city than there is in mine, so it's a nice place for a Ulsaner to visit.

I took the "red-eye" bus out of Ulsan, leaving Samsandong at 1:00 in the morning on Saturday and getting into the express bus terminal in Gangnam four hours later, having slept all the way there. I headed up to Apgujeongdong for a breakfast of blueberry pancakes at Butterfinger's, which seemed ludicrously expensive but worth it considering I haven't had pancakes since I left the States. From there, I made my way up to the palace district near Insadong to check out what was on display in the many art galleries there. First, I basked in the beautiful simplicity of Ryoo Byung-yup's pastoral paintings at the Hyundai Gallery, which were truly some of the most magnificent pieces I've ever seen in person, let alone my favorite modern Korean paintings.

Something in his style, which apparently has remained virtually unchanged since the early 1990s, reminded me of the Fauvist and Cubist movements, but done in an entirely Korean way. Then it was on to the Kumho Gallery for an entirely forgettable exhibition, and then to the ArtSonje Center, which is currently displaying the BMW Art Cars. I was unaware that these existed; basically, some of the most famous and important pop artists of the 20th century, including Andy Warhol, Frank Stella, Roy Lichtenstein and Ken Done, whose cars are on display, were commissioned to paint BMW race cars that were raced at the LeMans 24 hour race in France. In addition to the full-size cars, there were also some scaled down models designed by, among others, the likes of Robert Rauschenberg and Alexander Calder.

After a morning of art, I met Ja-young for lunch, an arrangement of different jjigae. From Insadong, we took the subway over to Myeongdong and rode the cable car up to Namsan Tower. Although the hwangsa obscured most of what would otherwise be an almost perfect view of Seoul, the remaining beotkkot were visible, which provided me with some nice juxtaposition in this picture:

We descended from Namsan and spent some time at the han-ok village in Myeongdong, an example of traditional Joseon-era architecture. Although it was a bit too touristy for my tastes, it allowed me to see for myself the features of the han-ok that I had recently read in my collection of Korean anthropology articles.

Dinner time found us in Hongdae eating sushi and drinking soju before reclining in Gr8, which we discovered when I visited over New Year's, with a hookah and some cocktails. To my great fortune, this past weekend just happened to be the third anniversary of "Sound Day," a monthly (?) event in Hongdae where the jazz, rock, and hip-hop clubs band together to showcase the local musical talent under one, affordable 15,000 won cover charge. We started out at Club Evans listening to a jazz trio under the direction of Lee Yeong-gyeong, considered by some to be the premier jazz pianist in Korea (coincidentally, I had actually seen his trio perform before in Itaewon). In addition to Lee there was an electric bassist and a drummer, both much younger. The drummer's solos in particular seemed strange to me; I wished that my musically-inclined brother had been there to tell me whether what he was doing was genius by playing outside the beat or just really awful. The highlight came on the last song of the set, an energetic and entrancing retooling of an old Django Reinhardt song (sans guitar, of course) where Lee really showed off his chops. Afterwards, we popped next door to FF to catch the end of the rockabilly-punk group "The Moonshiners," a supergroup of sorts assembling some of the biggest names from Seoul's underground punk scene. Their brand of punk was more up-tempo than some, which I enjoyed because it meant the crowd was really having fun. The lead singer/guitarist, Cha Seung-woo, formerly of "No Brain," was definitely the coolest Korean guy I've ever seen. He was dressed like a cross between Buddy Holly and Colonel Sanders, but he had the stage antics of Pete Townshend. I was glad to have caught the end of the set as FF is a relatively small venue and was quite literally a "sweatbox." To cap off the evening, we made our way to Hole for a hip-hop set by a local DJ. The set was an interesting mix of the biggest hits of the summer of 2004 ("Lean Back," "Where The Hood At," etc.) and a surprising amount of trap and crunk music. He also played two tracks off of Nas's latest album ("Carry On Tradition" and "Hip-Hop Is Dead"), so I guess the Koreans appreciated the album even if no one else did (I was one of the minority that thought it was good, I gather). I danced myself to the brink of pain, at which point it was time to go back to the hostel.

On Sunday, Ja-young and I lazed about in Gangnam, visiting an extensive English language bookstore where I purchased a copy of Mikhail Bulgakov's "The Master and Margarita." I left Seoul at 5:00, hoping to return again soon. As long as I keep having positive experiences like the last two visits, Seoul has the potential to crack my top five favorite cities worldwide.

Pop Anthropology

I just recently finished a book about Korean culture, titled Korea Unmasked: In Search of the Country, The Society and the People, that I found interesting enough to post about here. It is a popular look at Korean history, people, and culture in cartoon form by Rhie Won-bok, a professor and one of Korea's most famous cartoonists. Pop anthropology can always be fun, and in this case I was surprised at how serious some of the observations were. Although Korean culture is now the focus of my research, I am still quite a novice and therefore I can't sufficiently measure the validity of the author's statements, and I am reluctant to take him at face value since he seems to have a clear agenda and there are moments of outright nationalistic blindness. Nonetheless, it is filled with useful information that anyone living in Korea will immediately recognize and anyone who is interested in Korea and Korean culture would benefit from reading. Originally published in Korea in 2002, the book was immensely popular in Korea and has now been translated into English. The book is divided into four chapters: the first offers comparisons between Korea and the other East Asian giants, China and Japan (as well as comparisons to the United States, the de facto global benchmark for many Koreans), part two describes some of the socio-cultural peculiarities of the Korean people, part three is a brief but dense overview of Korean history, and part four deals (quite even-handedly, actually) with the issue of reunification with North Korea. I'll just mention two aspects of Korean culture that I found particularly interesting here. First, the concept of choong, which comes from the Chinese character that represents the middle. In the Korean context, it stands for orthodoxy and pride in Korean originality. Choong in part explains what outsiders sometimes see as obstinacy and blind adherence to an "outdated" way of doing things, as well as preferences for all things Korean and mild disdain for non-Korean cultural goods. The other is jeong, the concept of "affection" that is at the center of the egalitarian and communal spirit of Koreans. According to Professor Rhie, this social attitude has always existed in an uneasy relationship with Confucian ideals of social hierarchy, and now lives in a strange harmony with rabid capitalist competition. Also included are the Korean penchant for taking everything to the extreme, a look at the Korean education system and at chaebols, the importance of age, family, and place in social relations, cultural psychology and the "peninsular mentality," and explanations of the competitive spirit and the notion of "keeping up with Joneses." Although I think Professor Rhie comes off as a bit too much of a nationalist at times, and he doesn't deal as critically with Park Chung-hee's regime as I would have liked to see, the book is definitely a fun and worthwhile read and I urge anyone who hasn't read it to check it out.

R.I.P. Kurt Vonnegut

Once again it is time to eulogize one of the greatest figures of modern literature. I am a bit embarrassed to admit that I am not as familiar with Vonnegut's work as I wish I was. The only one of his works I've read in its entirety is "Slaughterhouse Five," which I thoroughly enjoyed, but my knowledge of Vonnegut does not go much further beyond that. It is unfortunate because I am aware that he is widely considered one of the geniuses of American literature and I have always meant to read more; perhaps his death will be a wake call for me. Salman Rushdie once wrote of Vonnegut, "He is the only important and original writer in the world whose entire oeuvre can be summed up in three words: 'So it goes.'" Here is a link to a BBC obituary that I enjoyed, especially the final quote.

Gyeongju

Yesterday, as the culmination to a weekend dedicated to celebrating my birthday (a bit overly self-indulgent, aren't I?) several friends and I headed up the coast to Gyeongju for the annual cherry blossom festival. This past weekend is when the blossoms are at their most picturesque. The festival is well-known throughout Korea and consequently virtually the entire country makes its way to the (relatively) small city to flower-peep, turning the roads into a mess (as they are during any Korean holiday). In order to avoid what I had been warned would be little more than a giant parking lot on the highways, we decided to take the train, which only takes forty minutes. Once there, we rented some bikes and rode around the city taking in the breathtaking pastoral beauty that is Gyeonju during beotkkot season. We had lunch at a ssam bap restaurant, which Gyeonju is famous for, and then took another bike ride into the countryside before taking the train back home. Although I tend to detest touristy things and this was certainly one of the most touristy activities I've engaged in recently, it was well worth the trip and a perfect ending to what was a great weekend. Here are some more pictures of the flowers:

China Wind

In stark contrast to the beauty of the spring flowers I posted about earlier, last Sunday brought with it the hwangsa ("yellow dust") wind and was probably the most disgusting bits of weather I've ever experienced, enough to bring Al Gore to tears. I seem to remember hearing about this weather pattern before moving here, but it's something else entirely to actually see it; it was like being in some sort of apocalyptic post-nuclear sci-fi movie. Essentially, it was a dust storm that originated in the Gobi desert and its environs (China/Mongolia), where increased farming has hastened desertification. However, according to the Korean Meteorological Association, the dust also carries with it dioxin particles, a by-product of China's industrial growth that just happens to cause cancer when inhaled. People were urged to stay inside and if they did go out, most wore the cloth masks that are so prevalent in this part of Asia. I took a taxi to Seongnamdong and was mesmerized by the bizarre yellow haze that blanketed Ulsan. Apparently, the problem is worsening. In the the past, Korea used to experience about four "yellow dust" days a year. 2006 had eleven, and 2007 has already seen five. Sunday was the worst that many had seen in their lifetimes. China has begun a reforestation project in the Gobi region in an effort to ameliorate the phenomenon, but one has to wonder if it's too little too late.

Sa Weol Kkot (April Flowers)

Although it wasn't a particularly nice day on Saturday, I thought I'd share some of the photos I took of the spring flowers that have started to bloom at the University of Ulsan (they fall far short of the quality of photos of flowers and fauna that my friend Jamie takes, but here they are anyway):

These are known as gaenarikkot (I'm not sure what the name is in English), and they are everywhere, a brilliant burst of yellow that creeps all over the sides of buildings and out of cracks and crevices here and there.

Here is the mogryeon flower (again, no idea what the English name is). The petals are gigantic and look a bit like a drinking goblet to me.

Finally the beotkkot, better known as cherry blossoms. At the end of March and the beginning of April, the south of the peninsula is awash in these small white flowers and many cities and towns have festivals in its honor. Last night, I went with my co-workers to Gyeongju (about an hour north of Ulsan, former capital of Korea during the Silla period and one of the most important cities to Korean history) to see the famous cherry blossoms there, and they were certainly magnificent, even at night illuminated by a full, clear moon. I will be returning to Gyeongju on Sunday for the start of the festival, so expect some more pictures from that excursion.