LA...connecting flight...thirteen and a half hours to Seoul...woke me up at
six in the morning for breakfast of yogurt, fresh fruit, juice...croscant
and meat sauce spaghetti...landed in Seoul...picked up by Korean Seoul
contact Sang Yun...drove me through insane traffic to head offices of a
parent corporation that has about five companies under it...marched me
around each floor of two skyskrapers...everybody dressed to a t...me in
hawaiian shirt and red corduroy pants...addidas tennies...introduced me to
many presidents...conference rooms...questions in broken english...stacks of training and phonics manuals...lunch at american style buffet steakhouse, like Ponderosa...packed with graduation day elementary school kids...I'm beginning to get delerious...disoriented...just plain scared about what the fuck I've gotten myself into...back to offices...take a walk...try new Korean candybars...finally to airport (after having been in Seoul for about 7 hours...Seoul is like second largest city in the world...like 12 million...maybe third...from the air it looks like about ten or fifteen
cities next to eachother...flat land by the western sea...(maybe eastern, I
loose track on this side)...they put me on a bus to Kimpo airport, because
the drive takes like an hour and a half...off bus into airport...talk to
German engineer at snack bar...in the middle of a hallucinogenic state of
calm...having recieved second, third and fourth wind...hour flight to
Pusan...most beautiful stewardesses I've ever seen...land in Pusan..flying
in fills me with good vibes...Pusan is on the southern coast...hugging the
ocean...nearby waters from above are a vast grid of sunken fishing nets like perfectly set rectangles...picked up promptly by the president of the school where I'm assigned...Mr. Kim...most common family name in Korea...names go like: Kim (family name) Byong-Moon (given name) - takes me straight to school...up to fourth floor...introduces me to Korean teachers...up to fifth floor...meet vice pres...also Mr. Kim...you must be hungy? No, not really, I just want a shower...Okay, we go to eat...?
...okay...next block, we go into small storefront, like two rooms...traditional Korean restaurant he says...name means 'Brothers'...we take our shoes off and put on sandals and step up into wood floored room with floor cushions and low tables...there is a television set on with WWF wrestling ...s teaming hand towels and small cups of...what is this?...uh, boiled water...I sip and it tastes like what I imagine hot piss would...Uh...Mr. Kim, can I pour you some...no, I don't want...I'm getting paranoid from fatigue...do they really hate americans?...is this he idea of some cruel joke to start me off...aw what the fuck, if it doesn't kill me...so I drink, and then the food comes...you
have to have a traditional Korean meal to understand...the average meal
comes with about fifteen dishes...small communal portions with a main dish
or two in the center...always you get your own bowl of sticky white
rice...the food looks...well, I would say by Western standards,
disgusting...I dig in...Kimche - like spicy marinated
cabbage...yams...seaweed...a pile of tiny anchovies with heads and tails on
that you eat whole...a stack of seaweed paper for making your own rice and
veggie rolls...kimche stew with pork and tofu...so many things that I don't
even know...I did in...thank christ I'm good with chopsticks...and I have to
say that after having been taken out for traditional meals (always new
dishes) about five times...it's some of the greatest fucking food I've ever
had...I look forward every day to the possibility that someone is probably
going to buy me dinner (there's no such thing as dutch in Korean)...
now, I'm not a picky eater at all...there's always stuff that I like more than
others, but I eat it all...and there's always soooo much...I went out the
other day and if you get Galbi - beef, pork or chicken...it's like Barbque
that they cook right there at your table in a sort of hibatchi that's
usually built into the table, and sometimes you sit there and stir it around
for yourself and sometimes the waitress comes and cuts the galbi into
smaller peices with a scissors...and there's no such thing as tipping...so
after I eat (Mr. Kim says he's not eating because he promised someone else he'd go and eat with them...we sit and watch wrestling and he seems so fascinated as Hunter Hearst Helmsley and Razor Ramone beat eachother with lead pipes inside a steel cage...he's thrilled when I explain moves like
'Powerbomb' and 'Leg Drop' - he repeats the words like a mystified child...I
explain to him that it's not real, but like a man's soap opera...but that
people still do get hurt...he laughs and is intrigued...then, finally,
dinner is done and he takes me to a motel that is about ten steps behind the institute - Pusan is huge too - like 4 million people and there are infinite layers of small businesses that filter all the way into the back alleys... dinner costs about 3500 won - 10 won is like 1 US penny, but worth
about 20% less on the international market (very very rough estimate) - we
go to the hotel and he prepays for a couple days, saying that I'll move into
my place on monday...requests a room for me with a bed...we take our shoes off in the entryway and put sandals on and go upstairs...as soon as we step into my small room, I notice that the floor is warm...all dwelling floors here are heated from underneath...he leaves me with my bags...telling me to come up to the school around 11 tomorrow (saturday)...I thow my stuff down, strip and head for the bathroom...there are rubber sandals for the bathroom, and tub is like one half of american tub with spray nozzle, I could care less, I fill up steaming tub and get in and just soak...soak...soak...dunk my head from crouching position...just breathe and let water pour down my face...finally, get out and dress...lay down...mind racing so fast...okay, I can't stand it, despite fatigue, I have to go out and explore...Mr. Kim mentioned area around the univerity with a big night life...maybe I can find it...it's chilly outside, in the middle of winter...maybe 45 or fifty degrees with cold wind...aw fuck it...I go...it's dark but there are neon signs EVERYWHERE...I walk for a while, not bothering to pay attentions to the turns I make and before I know it, I'm in this labrynth of blazing lights and the streets are packed with kids...laughing and cavorting on friday night...bars everywhere...stores open at 11 or twelve...music... street vendors...motor scooters and cars weaving inbetween the people...my head is spinning and I feel like I'm inside a giant slot
machine...and I'm grinning wide...unable to close my mouth...I wander for an hour or two...my head always shifting back and forth, scanning the canyon
walls...EVERYBODY LOOKS AT YOU ALL THE TIME...I'm just starting to get used to it...the feeling ocillates between flattery and self conciousness... feel like an animal in a zoo...I pick a bar from the hundreds...and this isn't
even the real downtown...JazzFusion...sounds relaxing...go up...live jazz
band...as soon as I walk in the staff begins to buzz and hover around me...I
have water, a beer and a shot of wiskey and a basket full of different sorts
of snacks in front of me in minutes...just one drink...maybe two...then
three...switch from beer to highballs of scotch...after a couple hours I can
barely stay up at the bar...I have to go...I'm wasted and now the maze of
loud lights and colors and the cold wind aren't so intersting...I'm
staggering around...there aren't so many people on the streets and those who are out look at me like I'm Frankenstien and Dracula...rolled into one and staggering around looking for children to slaughter...I'm so lost...I'm
saying out loud..oh, fuck...I'm sooooo lost...I'm out of the youth district
and I'm freezing and on the edge of blacking out and nothing looks
familiar...where am I?...I sit on a bench and I think I went to sleep for a
while...then wake up from the biting cold and tell myself...christ, I have
to get back to my motel...I stagger up to a cab and immediately hand the
driver a 10,000 won bill - I know that the average cab ride is only supposed
to cost around 1,500 W...but I don't want to take any chance of this drive
misunderstanding that I will pay everything I have to get back to my
room...he looks scared...accepts my bill...I say the only thing I know about
where I'm staying (there are no street names here, only
districts)...Uh...ku-mung...jung...gok...uh...he looks puzzled...I pull out
the business card that Mr. Kim gave me and just hope that he can get me to the school...he still looks puzzled...but he starts driving...we are
going...going...we go through a toll booth and over a bridge...now I know
we're going waaaaaay far in the wrong direction...and then he pulls up to
the police station...we both walk in...I can barely remember what it looked
like...I am so drunk...using every ounce of energy and control just trying
to stand up straight and keep my eyes open and not look drunk...the driver
and the cops exchange words at lightning rate...maybe some laughter...I show them the business card...ahhh...they say somthing to him and make hand gesture directions...it feels right...we get back in the cab and go back in the opposite direction...he pulls up to a curb, and I can't even tell if
we're anywhere close, but I've given this guy enough trouble tonight, so I
pass him another 10,000 bill and get out...sweet jesus...I see the school
sign across the street...stagger back to the motel...up to my room, smiling
like I'm marching down victory road or to the gates of valhalla...lock door
and fall into bed with shoes on...and I'm.........out.
So that's the first day.
In the morning I woke up, around 6:30 - after about an hour and a half of
sleep...sober, but feeling like shiiiiiiiiiiiit. I change...soft sweatshirt
feels like mother's womb...sunglasses for sure...out onto street...black
coffee one of the omnipresent vending machines...200
won...water...gatorade...400 w...ahhhh...I don't think I've ever felt
better. I crank a jazz comp tape brian made for me on the walkman and start walking...city street...city street...mountains...but that's another
story...
M.R. Bradie