Of Bamboo Forests and Slow Cities

I caught a train to Gwangju, the nearest transit hub to the bamboo forest of Damyang. A helpful Korean lady at the Gwangju station drew an accurate rendering of which way I should turn, which stairs I should climb, and which direction I should walk to find the stop for the bus to Damyang. I followed the instructions and arrived just in time to catch the bus. I got off at the entrance to Juknokwon, a carefully cultivated bamboo forest that is the pride of the city. I wandered the gently sloping trails of Jukniwon for a couple of hours, before going to Damyang's main bus depot.

Public transit outside of the major metropolitan areas of Korea is very sporadic, with some bus routes being serviced with very limited frequency. Most Korean travelers either have their own car or go on a packaged tour, so it is not a issue for them. I wanted to go to a nearby "slow city" named Samjicheon. A "slow city" is an euphemism for a quiet town with an aging population that has not seen economic development in the past couple of decades as its youth has moved away to larger, more modern, cities in droves. I was told there was a long wait till the next bus, and introduced to a guy named Gyu who was also heading for Samjicheon.

Gyu turned out to be a unique fellow, with strong English skills, an independent mind, and extensive travel experience. He was in his thirties, self-employed, and unattached. Gyu explained that he travels until he runs low on cash, and then works on a freelance basis until he stockpiles some savings to fund further wanderings. "Korean women do not like poor guys" was his finding.

We reached the bucolic village of five hundred residents, rice fields, and traditional homes after a long and winding bus ride from Damyang. All the stores on the main street seemed to be shuttered even though it was a Saturday. We found a home style sit-on-the-ground-and-eat restaurant open a bit further down the road. A grandmother was sprawled on the floor and watching television. She got up spryly and called her daughter, who prepared a satisfying meal for us.

After lunch, we walked around the village. A couple passed us wearing matching clothes to show their undying love for each other. "When I had girlfriend, she made me do the same thing. I felt much shame." recollected Gyu. We caught a bus heading out in the direction of Gwangju, but had to switch buses midway to get to our next destination - the Joseon era garden of Soswaewon.

A friendly fruit vendor told us that it would be a long wait for the next bus and suggested we would be better off hitch hiking. He suggested using me as bait. "Me?" I asked. "Me!" he replied, poking me in the chest with his finger. We followed through on his idea, as a middle aged couple dropped us off at Soswaewon. Heralded for its unmatched beauty, Soswaewon was an underwhelming collection of pavilions and overgrown shrubs. It took less than five minutes to cover the grounds, followed by a much longer wait for a bus back to Gwangju.

*****

"A garden without bamboo is like a day without sunshine." ~ Korean saying

Inch by Incheon

Quite a few of Seoul's neighboring cites are connected to it via the region's extensive subway and light rail network, making intracity travel easy and affordable. I caught a train to Incheon one morning, Korea's third largest city with a population of 3 million. Famous for its international airport and being Korea's first designated free economic zone, Incheon also has the only official Chinatown in the country.

The familiar red and gold painted structures of Chinatown were located across the street from the train terminus. I explored the colourful bylanes and visited some colonial buildings and art galleries. The Chinese restaurants seem to be very popular with the Seoul weekend crowd, as each restaurant had long queues at lunchtime. Not overly interested in standing in line in the midday heat, I filled my stomach with tasty street food. This was followed up with some refreshing bubble tea, which is exceedingly rare to come across in this nation of coffee lovers.

Jayu Park, the oldest "Western style" park in Korea, is located on a hill near Chinatown. I ascended several flights of stairs to find out what a "Western style" park was. It was a public park like those found in Chinese cities, and not a private garden to be enjoyed exclusively by the royals. Children run through water fountains and couples wearing matching apparel walk hand in hand along the winding paths. Unlike Chinese parks though, elderly folk do not dance in unison to loud music to keep fit and maintain a sense of community.

Jayu Park features a large statue of General Douglas MacArthur and another monument celebrating one hundred years of friendship among the United States and South Korea. During the Korean War, Macarthur famously landed UN forces in Incheon behind North Korean lines. He recaptured Seoul within a few weeks, changing the momentum of a war that was swinging heavily in North Korea's favour until then. My final stop was the boardwalk at Wolmido, a short bus ride away. It is a place where families come to enjoy sunshine and raw fish amidst a carnival atmosphere.

*****

"Could I have but a line a century hence crediting a contribution to the advance of peace, I would yield every honor which has been accorded by war." - General Douglas MacArthur

The Fortress Around Suwon

My first trip to a city in Korea not named Seoul was to the neighboring industrial outpost of Suwon, the last remaining completely walled city in the country. After taking an intracity subway to Suwon, I meandered through the underground shopping mall connected to the train terminus before emerging on the other side of the road. There was a bus stop there but the plethora of routes and directions overwhelmed me.

My eagle eyes spotted a road sign pointing towards Hwaseong Fortress, the World Heritage site whose walls ring the original city limits. I walked a bit in that direction until finding another bus stop. I caught a bus here and hastily disembarked upon spotting the impressive fortifications a handful of stops later.

Suwon is also famous for its public toilets, and as a commode aficionado I  had no choice but to visit a facility right outside the fortress. Similar to Xian, it is possible to circumnavigate the six kilometers worth of fortress walls by foot. Hwaseong Fortress was constructed by paid laborers in the late 18th century, a first in the nation's history. Prior to that, aristocrats had usually forced people of low status to provide unpaid labour.

King Jeongjo had plans to move the nation's capital to Suwon. Jeongjo's grandfather had ordered his son Sado to commit suicide. When Jeongjo's father failed to follow instructions, he was locked alive in a chest until he was no longer. Sado's tomb is located in the "The City of Filial Piety", but Jeongjo's capital plans never came to fruition.

*****

 "Rest not! Life is sweeping by; go and dare before you die. Something mighty and sublime, leave behind to conquer time." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

ARNABabe: Lost in Translation

Several Korean guys had spent a couple of hours coaching me how to say "What is your phone number?" in the local tongue. The phrase was many syllables long so I had a tough time memorizing it. Putting my new found knowledge into practice, I was able to successfully secure the digits of a stunning Seoul beauty despite committing some major blunders.

Me: Jonhabonhogamoeiyo?
Beauty: Do you even know my name?
Me: No. Do you know mine?
Beauty: Arnab.
Me: Oh...

Her voice was so melodious I had failed to capture the meaning behind the sounds she was making when she was first introducing herself. I gave her my phone and she dialed her number. For the follow up a few days later, I used a non verbal and harmless text message to query whether she was free for dinner.

She was grossly offended that I had offered her free dinner as "Korean girls are not so cheap". This time the miscommunication could be attributed to the language barrier. Tragically, the story came to a premature end before we could become Seoul-mates.

*****

"To cement a new friendship, especially between foreigners or persons of a different social world, a spark with which both were secretly charged must fly from person to person, and cut across the accidents of place and time." - Cornelia Otis Skinner

Seoul Metro

The Seoul Metropolitan Subway is the world's fourth largest commuter network, carrying 4 million passengers per day. The stations are bustling hives of activity, with food, toilet, and shopping venues readily available. Excruciatingly long transfers between different lines at the same station are not as convenient, designed as a mechanism to keep the general populace in top top shape. Vibrant ads and thoughtful poetry adorn the platform, and television screens feature entertaining lessons on how to behave at the station and on the train. The metro functions as a petri dish to examine modern day Korean culture, from etiquette to fashion.

Once aboard, a first time rider will notice that there are reserved seats for old people and pregnant women which no able bodied person will sit in. These seats are even empty in a packed train during rush hour or late night when there are no oldsters or baby mamas in sight, as decorum must be maintained at all times in Korea. Looks of scorn are projected at those selfish enough to sit down on these without being infirm or impregnated. If the phone must be used to make a call, then the conversation is carried out in a hushed tone with one hand politely covering the mouth.

Riding the Bombay locals was an exhilarating experience, but the primary excitement was in getting on and off a moving train. The ride itself was not very fun. The Seoul Metro is breathtaking while on board, particularly as spring turns to summer. Beautiful short skirted passengers sitting on the train carefully avoid reenacting Sharon Stone's famous scene from Fatal Attraction. They are absorbed in their own worlds, applying makeup or playing on their smart phones. Only an occasional shy glance is given to the Indo-Canadian Temptation. The women are not the only fashionable commuters in transit. Their stylish male counterparts all dress alike, the combination of their skinny hairless bodies and tight shorts and shirts giving them the appearance of ball boys at a tennis match.