Soccer and Seoul: ECUADOR VS. KOREA

This weekend I went to Seoul with some friends. We booked rooms in the Seoul Motel, a classy establishment in the foreign-frequented Itaewon district. In Itaewon you can find a wide selection of international restaurants and stores, clothing in sizes larger than a 2 (advertised as "big size") and you can hear English - a lot.

When I walk around in Korea I can tune out people's conversations. The small amount that I understand is not sufficient to eavesdrop. A foriegner here can breeze down a street while chalking up all Korean speech to white noise. But not in Itaweon. A group of women in front of us were dicussing why their group of friends did the right thing by not rushing into marriage like Sue. A couple behind us was talking about a restuarant. A Nigerian woman was asking Delaine who braids her hair, and offering a card for her salon. This actually felt a little overwhelming after being so used to simply ignoring the conversations happening around me.

We went to eat some Greek food, then headed to a bar on the aptly named "Hooker Hill". As we walked up the hill, we saw scantily clad women sitting on stools, the doors of various venues left open just enough to give people a peek of what they could pay for. At the top of the hill, we arrived at our destination, a country western bar that was full of real American cowboys. After a couple vodka-cranberries, I decided to ask one of the cowboys to two-step. He had a good sense of rythym, and soon enough I was two-stepping around the center of the room as my friend filmed my first western dance experience. Surprisingly, the same cowboy had followed my guy friend into the bathoom and asked him, "What's the deal with your lady friends?" and commented that I was a "mighty fine lady."

The next stop was Caliente, a Latino-frequented latin club (as opposed to a Korean salsero venue). We danced until they kicked us out and the lights went on. Then we went to Hongdae and hit up a place called Gorilla before crashing into bed in Itaewon.

On Sunday we went to Myungdong for some shopping. A youth-culture haven, this shopping district has a ton of international stores ilke Zara and Forever 21, Korean beauty product stores with hawkers out front who drag you in by the arm and give you a basket with free samples in exchange for browsing, as well as the typical Korean street vendors selling everything from belts to shoes to faux acid washed denim leggings to couple cell phone charms and earrings.

But the real reason for going up to Seoul this weekend was to see the World Cup warm up friendly between Ecuador and Korea. I was horrified to discover that I had forgotten to pack my Ecuadorian flag, but luckily I remembered my 2006 jersey and collection of red blue and yellow accessories. As huge crowds of people spilled out of the subway at the Seoul World Cup Stadium, I saw a Korean guy wearing the same jersey as me. Ecuador! I yelled to him... and then he bowed at me. We were wondering if he just randomly likes Ecuador. There are lots of Ecuadorian Koreans, but I still wouldn't have expected someone from Ecuador to bow so automatically - however I bow all the time in Korean contexts so I shouldn't judge! But everyone else we saw was wearing red and white, the Korean colours.

Korean fans are crazy! Their energy was infectuous. The crowd had a band with drums that led cheers. They shot flares in the air, they raised a flag up AND down over themselves. And their cries of "dae han min guk" (Korea's official name) almost never let up for the entire game. When we arrived at our awesome front and center seats, there were large pieces of red or white cardstock, and a Park Ji Sung mask to wear on the back of your head.

But for the size of our small group, we did a pretty good job of cheering. We attracted the attention of a small group that started yelling Ecuador back at us. And that was how I met two Ecuadorian guys from Toronto who are teaching English in Seoul. There were also a few pockets of Ecuadorian fans on the other side of the stadium, visible with their yellow jerseys and balloons, and one lone flag.

The Mind

I was having dinner with my friend Sunny on Monday when she brought up the concept of the mind. "Ask any Korean person where the mind is, and they will point here," she said, placing her hand on her heart. "If you ask any western person, they always point to their head." I decided to test this theory last night over dinner at an Italian place with Alexander (Chan Hui). When I asked him where the mind is, he gestured to his chest.

Sunny is a cultural interpreter. She is Korean, but also lived in California, and has many friends in the international community here in Daegu. She knows Korean and North American culture intimately and is fully bilingual. These cultural interpreters can provide incredible insights into a culture. Sometimes you need to ask someone to explain something to you. Why does my friend think I want to meet up with him when I say, "I am bored"? How much money should I bring as a wedding gift? Why are some people so shy and embarassed to talk to foreigners? Is it just me, or are Korean gender roles strikingly similar to Latin American ones? Through friends like her, I have learned a lot about Korea, and become much more in tune with and sensitive to cultural differences. Having friends like Sunny has allowed me to function more smoothly in Korean society.

the onset of summer

HOT.

The steamy Daegu weather has arrived. Unlike in Canada, where weather changes slowly creep up on you, Korea basically has summer and winter, where spring and fall are like a joke. At best, a few days of glorious weather around 20 degrees. This is also the time when middle aged folk bust out the best of their hiking gear: black polyester pants, and bright coloured sweat-wicking long-sleeved shirts, and .... hiking polls.... to hike up pathed pathways that are more like sidewalks than challenging mountainous terrain.

For me, this means bursting open my wardrobe to expose brightly coloured skirts and dresses, lightweight fabrics, and my impressive shoe collection... and extra walking and biking. Asha has a habit of setting up her throne in one of two places to catch some vitamin D during our rigidly enforced "Fresh Air Time" aka break, which lasts from 11:31-11:44 and 4:31-4:44 daily. We see a lot of interesting things from a perch in the sun. One side is the sidewalk, and the other is a shoddy little parking area. Shoddy, because the "chain" that closes off the four-car parking area is neon green, and plastic. Yesterday, a driver pulled up to the chain, got out of the car, and de-linked two segments of the chain. He drove into the lot, parked his car, then re-linked the chain back up.

We have also seen:
-Crazy old men on bikes with cool straw hats, who yell at us and want to practice their English
-Children who run by brushing their hands along a ledge, and then freeze when they see us
-Old women who stare intensely until you look them in the eye and say "annyong haseyo"

And today I bought a strange ice cream called an "ice pine", which sounds more like "AH-ee-su PA-eye-nuh" - but before you gag and think about pine-sol flavour and Christmas trees, rest assured that this baby was shaped like a little pineapple the size of a pine cone.

Last Friday we had a salsa show at Urban club. The owners are a great bunch of people, and they took care of us as we rehearsed all week, providing orange juice, water, and snacks. We did a rueda with five couples, and our "salsa showcase" with two couples. It was a lot of fun and went really well. Our girls were decked out with dramatic smokey makeup, and the dances went well - the only scary moment being when both Christine and I were being flipped in the air upside down and our feet hit each other mid-air.... there is a troupe of Brazilian professional dancers who work at a local amusement park, and bringing them to a party is like opening a can of worms of fun. We had a conga line going, and danced up a storm until close to 4am, where we ended up at Burger King where I had a shrimp burger. Sorry ... See-oo bah-guh.

I don't do this often. My days of partying till 6am are pretty much over. If a crazy friday happens, I am pretty much out of commission on Saturday. So Sharifa and I lounged about in the sunshine on my rooftop, lying on bright fuschia fabric and wearing skimpy clothes. My Korean neighbours consider the roof a place for drying clothing, and storing garbage. Most Korean people do not suntan, as the many whitening products and SPF 100 creams prove. But in a country where summer and beach season are defined by dates, and have nothing to do with the actual weather, a pair of sunbathing foreigners just look plain crazy. My neighbour and her two kids were peering at us from behind a wall. I am talking about obvious spying - their heads would pop out against the wall edge, the rest of their bodies hidden. The positive side side of the rigid ideas of when it is appropriate to go to the beach, is that when beach season is considered over, the normally crowded beaches become a pleasant place to hang out. The weather is exactly the same. No more world records for the most people on beach (Haeundae in Busan a couple of years ago). Just me, smiling up at the sun, as Korean girls teeter through the sand in their stilettos.

Me? I religiously wear my heels in appropriate places like a salsa club. Not while hiking. And salsa is a big part of my life these days. I am taking my on-2 Ladies Styling class and loving it so much. Que viva la salsa. My teacher whose English name is Kitten, and the Caribe owner, whose English (Spanish) name is Gitano also showed up at the fiesta last weekend. Good times in Daegu.

And last but not least, I really appreciate some of the people in my neighbourhood. Like the middle-aged man I bought my bike from last year at his used bike shop. On Sunday I was biking downtown, and as I passed his shop I decided it would be a good time to put in air. I also have been having a loud squealing noise coming from my brakes every time I slow down. This startles many pedestrians (people here bike on the sidewalk and largely without helmets). So I said this to him in Korean: "If stop, "_____" sound loud hear!" He laughed at my ghetto Korean, and proceeded to... fix it. And refused to take any money. He's a hilarious character who usually has a cigarette sticking out of his mouth, but also a jolly smile. These people around the neighbourhood that I see on a frequent basis create a sense of community for me here.