Filed under: economics, Korea, Travel | Tags: artificial islands, Incheon, Incheon free economic zone, Korea, New Songdo City, Songdo City, urban geography
I woke up too late today to venture out on my original plan which would have included a two hour subway ride each way. By the time I had gotten to my destination to take the pictures, I’m sure the sun would be on its way out. So I decided to take my local subway line, the Incheon line to the end. I knew the area was under heavy construction, and has been for several years, but I was not aware of the fact that it literally doesn’t really exist yet.
I was the only person to get off the last stop. There wasn’t a soul in the terminal, except for a young sleeping security guard. My shoes even squeaked on the floor it was so new, shiny, and unused. When I got to the top of the stairs of the subway terminal this is what I saw.
No sidewalk. No ubiquitous Paris Baguettes. Actually not a store, or, for that matter, a fully constructed building in site. It was a wondrous construction zone that lasts for miles. The only place I’ve been in Korea where I was the only one around. A few construction trucks flew by, and although I know I shouldn’t have been there, I couldn’t help wondering around and trying to get a few good shots. The Free Economic Zone of Incheon is going to be the world’s largest constructed community. A 10 year, estimated $40 Billion dollar project, it is a completely planned, completely wired, and eventually the hopeful center of some serious international commerce. I’ve heard that starting prices for apartments, that haven’t even been built yet, is $500,000. Even if I never come back to Korea to teach, seeing what happens to this area in ten years would be worth taking a trip.
This part of Incheon, as in literally the piles of dirt under my feet, didn’t exist a few years ago. Well, actually it existed as a landfill. Korea has been undergoing massive artificial island projects to expand. It is quite plain on the subway maps which parts of the city are artificial, and where the natural coast line is. The faint dotted lines are where future development is planned. Although Japan, Korea, Hong Kong, Dubai and other places have been using this as a form of land reclamation for years, it still makes me wonder at the stability of it all, if say a major earthquake or tsunami were to hit the area. I’m also curious as to why artificial islands fall under the geographic term of reclamation, how can you REclaim something that never existed?
New Songdo city is not all that large. I managed to walk from the barely existent International Business subway stop to the Incheon University subway in probably a little over a half hour, and that was with meandering around construction zones and taking pictures. I was hoping there would be a little life around the University stop, but it was literally a subway stop poking out of a field of dirt. There was a shuttle bus to take students to the school, which I couldn’t see on the horizon and a student pointed vaguely in the distance to where it must be. I’m quite confused as to why the stop is named for the University, except that from the subway line, I guess it is the closest access point to the school. A shuttle stop and subway marker jutting up out of nothing.
In between is the Central Park subway stop. A completely planned, and what is clearly going to be quite lovely park in the middle of this constructed city. Complete with public art pieces already installed. The impression I get both from some brief research reading, and from walking around the area, is that this city is meant to be an entity in and of itself. It has plans for international schools (with tuitions of upwards of $25,000/year), tax incentives for international business, a banking industry with low interest loans (presumably to very large investors), and the makings of town that plans to exclude, and possibly outright dismiss the existence of people of lower economic class. It makes me wonder what kind of actual life or vibrancy this fabricated city is going to have. Can you plunk down a city where one never existed, move in a bunch of folks, and call it home? I guess I should ask someone from a gated community in Arizona. (jab.)
Here is a photo of a poster on a construction barrier that shows what the city is supposed to look like when it is finished. Very modern, very urban, and quite nice. Of course, this doesn’t show the trash, the cars, the exhaust, or an Ajashee clearing his throat and spitting it next to someone’s shoe.
On a whim I got off a couple stops later at Campus Town. Again, I was having faint dreams of college towns, but alas, I think it meant “campus of highrise apartments.” Again, although this area is much further along in development and people clearly live here, there was nothing in the way of restaurants, shops, or stores within close walking distance of the subway stop. Even the map inside the subway was barren except to show the location of three housing developments. It makes me wonder if with the popularity of the car, there isn’t a move toward separating residential and commercial space, which, in this city, would be an incredible shame.
A brief and interesting article.
An article on the “wired” aspect of New Songdo City.
Filed under: Korea, Travel | Tags: Contemporary art in Korea, Seoul Grand Park
I was supposed to go to Busan today, but the person I was going to meet said they were leaving early. So after a meal of Kimchi Jiggea with Japanese noodles, I decided to cancel my ticket, and just wonder within the subway system. I love that the light blue lines have pictures of places that might be of interest. I hopped on line 4, and went to Seoul Grand Park. Obviously somewhere that is meant to be enjoyed in the summer, as all the gardens were wrapped up, I found it hugely relaxing and calm though compared to the last couple of weeks. There were a few families milling around, and I headed up to the National Museum of Contemporary Art.
This guys jaw moves up and down and he is singing something rather somber and pleasant.
The special exhibit right now is called Peppermint Candy. Artists that grew up and were formed by the 1980s social and political change. The exhibit was taken to Chilie as part of a cross-cultural exchange, and was popular due to Chile going through similar changes at similar times. I got a lot more out of the exhibit because of the wonderful English-speaking docent who gave me a great and informative tour of the exhibit.
True to art everywhere, this exhibit featured artists that live on the fringe of Korean society. There were large collections done by two openly gay artists. One of my favorite pieces was a giant floor mat sculpted from incense with English and Korean words spelling out famous gay bars. It burns for two months, and then is created again.
Another one of the artists prominently featured is a Korean woman in her mid-thirties married to a German man. She took several photographs of Korean/foreign relationships where none of the couples looked particularly happy. Although looking at the viability of cross-national relationships, she said some of the couples argued that it wasn’t necessarily about culture, but the nature of marriage and their own inner problems that were keeping them disconnected.
This artist also had pictures of older, nude, Korean women in their houses. The docent told me that originally the director of the museum wasn’t going to let the pieces be shown, not because the women were naked, but because they weren’t showing women as classically beautiful. When the artist argued that that was preciously the point, I guess he relented. An interesting side note, is that when I said to the docent, “Oh, I see, she’s trying to show regular woman,” she got a distasteful look on her face and said, “No, not regular, old.” The difference in cultural norms about women glaring through once again.
The main, permanent exhibit of the museum is a wild, spiralling installation of thousands of tiny tiles surrounding a column of TVs. It was entertaining, and, luckily, they allowed pictures.
The best part of the day was riding the skylift back to the subway station. I’m not convinced that net below would do much if one were to fall of out the flimsy lap bar across the chair though.
The Canadian radio show The Current, hosted on CBC Radio, has posted a story on anti-foreigner sentiment in Korea that I thought some folks might find interesting. In light of the Anti-English Spectrum, a site that has spent lots of time trying to discredit foreign teachers who teach English, and a group that calls itself KEK (Kill English Teachers in Korea) sending death threats to a couple of teachers, I think it is important for international teachers who are considering moving here to weigh this kind of activity into their decision making process. Not saying they shouldn’t come here, it’s just a part of the puzzle.
The show can be streamed here, it’s the second story on the page.
There seemed to be a lot of other interesting stories on here too, I might start frequenting this site more often.
Blogs that have been reporting substantially reporting on many things in Korea, particularly the anti-foreigner sentiment: Brian in Jeollanamdo, The Marmot’s Hole, Gusts of Popular Feelings
Some of the things that bother me about some of these stories are how much they don’t go both ways. Foreign women have dealt with being groped on Asian subways for decades. I’ve had penises waved at me, my figure outlined by drunk men who then give a thumbs up sign, my cleavage (which I try to keep hidden, buy hey, sometimes the girls like to get out) stared at with no attempt to hide it. But one time a white husband absently touches his Korean wife’s ass and a full on subway riot ensues? Give me a break.
I’m also bothered by the AIDS tests since they are not administered equally, but to be honest the US does the same thing. Anyone wanting to emigrate to the country has to take an HIV test, whereas I wouldn’t have to as a teacher in a school in my home state. The thing that bothered me most was how little hygiene there was at the hospital. A nurse wiped blood off a person’s arm with her bare hand for god’s sake. (Kimchi Icecream has written a lot about hospitals in Korea.)
There’s just something that’s not quite right…..
There are some folks back home who don’t seem to believe me that Korea is probably the most technologically advanced country I’ve ever been in. High rises, subway cards, and just about anything you could ever want is available here. Hell, they have heated toilet seats, how could you get more civilized than that?
Some cityscape shots from near the Namdeamun market in Seoul:
Zafar, a friend from Pakistan flashing a peace sign.
Seoul Tower
Yongsan Station
Home again, home again. My street.
I didn’t make it to the gym until 11:30 tonight. Although the sauna is open 24 hours, the excercise room, for no discernable reason, closes at midnight. I can read enough of the signage to know this, but as the man wearing red rubber gloves came into wipe everything down, I was pretending I didn’t, hoping he was uneasy enough with his English skills to just let me finish my workout. It seemed to be working, but I started to feel bad for him, so I compromised. The song I had been waiting for all night finally came on my MP3 player. (I figured out how to include this song for your listening enjoyment above.) I decided when the song was over, I would push the stop button and leave. It was a good decision; he gave me a very relieved nod that I wasn’t going to force him to confront me as I smiled on my way out.
Jimjilbangs seem to be either a person’s favorite thing in Korea, or something that they would never even consider doing even with the promise that they will come out fifty pounds lighter in the end. For me, they are heaven. Due to the fact that I’m actively trying to loose weight, that I love to swim, and that saunas are pure bliss to me, the naked 60-year-women are of little consequence.
For the folks who read this who have never been to Korea, Jimjilbangs are a ubiquitous part of the culture that I am going to have a hard time giving up when I go elsewhere. They are elaborate saunas, workout rooms, bathing pool/hot-tub/awesomeness with the add-on of any number of other things like sleeping quarters, restaurants, massage parlors, and the part that people talk about the most: for less than $20 you can have an old lady scrub every dead skin cell off your body with a rag that feels like a cat’s tongue, which will not only make your skin beautiful, but erase any shred of modesty you may have had left.
Actually, that’s not that part that people talk about most. The part that foreigners talk about most, is that in the actual sauna part, it is an absolute requirement that you go naked. The saunas are separated by gender, obviously, and it is a parade that takes all kinds. My kind sticking out like a sore thumb for reasons I probably don’t even want to know about.
In the common areas everyone, male and female, are given the exact same uniform to wear. Long baggy gym shorts, and a t-shirt. One good thing is that you are not confronted by the latest in cheek-flossing LA style workout-wear. One bad thing is that the ladies at the front desk seem to think I am an Amazon woman and always hand me a ridiculously large outfit to wear that makes me look like a walking sack of potatoes. I have to tie the drawstring tight so that my shorts don’t run off while I’m jogging on the treadmill. I’ve made a point of hiking them up and retying the strings in front of the desk Ajammas, but they still seem to think that I require a men’s extra large in the drawers department.
My rear is probably not what any of the ladies in the sauna are concerned with though. I would imagine, there is another part of me that is quite noticeable. The “cool pool,” as I like to call it is the perfect temperature and is deep enough to actually swim laps. It also has jets that are strong enough to send you shooting across the pool, or mar your back with bruises if you stand too close when you turn them on as I found out the morning after my first visit. The second time I was there I had a little toddler of a guy use my chest to hoist himself up over the final step. He was just climbing his way up, and I happened to be standing there, and high enough to be the next rung in the ladder. Then today, there was a lovely old lady who couldn’t stop looking. They do float a little in the pool, being made of what they are made of, but she was looking at me as if she suddenly forgot how to swim and was considering me as an option for a personal flotation device.
That wasn’t nearly as bad as the women at the Seoul Women’s Bookclub who told us a story of a middle-aged Korean woman sitting next to her in the hot tub, who leaned over and squeezed her breast firmly, and then turned back to her companion and declared, “Yep, they’re real!”
Which reminded me, yesterday a boy who looked to be about seven was doing some serious scientific analysis on my body compared to his adult companions. At one point during his data collection, I really thought he was going to flat-out grab my chest. He had both hands up, fingers splayed, one eye closed – but he stopped short of actually touching me, moved his hands over to his mother and compared. Like you would measure something on a map by using your knuckle. Just a rough estimate for future reference.
So by 1am this morning, I was worked-out, hot-tubbed, and bubble-jet happy. But there was a little snaffoo in trying to pull on the skirt that I love, and can finally fit into for the first time since I’ve been in Korea. You know how it’s harder to wiggle into stuff when your skin is damp and the steam makes you swell. The stupid thing is that I had thought of that before I left. I actually thought to myself, “it is going to be hard to get this skirt back on after getting out of the sauna.” But did I bring a different change of clothes. No. So there I was wiggling around trying to coerce the skirt up over my rear, when I hear some tittering behind me. I knew I couldn’t get away with this unnoticed. The display, I’m sure, guaranteed the fact that the next time I go, the shorts that are handed to me will be a men’s extra, extra large.
The song is Down in Mexico by The Coasters
The original Adventures of a D Cup
Now, when you move to a new country, it is to be expected that strange things, things outside of your norm, and the just plain unexpected will happen. The apartment building that I live in with all but two of the other teachers at our school has left the realm of cultural relativity and entered the realm of slum.
I have stooped to airing my grievances on my blog because I think it’s pretty clear that neither my boss (because he’s getting a great deal and doesn’t have to pay the “key” deposit over and over since he’s been keeping folks here so long), the landlord, or anyone else for that matter seems to care what happens here.
Here’s the shortlist of bullshit that has happened in the four months I’ve been in this particular location:
- Someone walked into my apartment and stole my purse while my friend stepped out to have a smoke and left the door unlocked. Not even being in the building (or the room) is enough protection in this shithole.
- Jim’s bike was purposefully knocked over when someone didn’t like where he parked.
- Someone left a turd on the fifth floor landing. One teacher really thinks it was human, but there has been some speculation. Either way, the landlord didn’t have it cleaned up for several days.
- Someone broke the hallway light, seemingly on purpose.
- I woke up at 12:30 tonight to the sound of my downstairs neighboor yelling and throwing dishes.
- The man who lives across from one of the other teachers is heard repeatidly beating his girlfriend.
- A random drunk woman walked into one of the teacher’s apartments, started making herself noodles, and then climbed in his bed.
- Jim’s mechanic thinks someone purposefully put dirt in the engine of his motercycle.
- One of the teacher’s had his scooter stolen from our garage a couple of months ago.
- The putrid smell that comes out of the sewer right in front of our front door that frequently fills the entire building with the smell of a frat-house, morning-after-beer-shit.
The piece de resistance was this afternoon, in broad daylight, as I was walking to work, a man comes out of the shadows, cock in hand, wanking off and staring directly at yours truly. Fortunately or unfortunately, this isn’t the first country, or the first place such a thing has happened. Actually, I believe the subway in D.C. was the biggest offender, where I had to make sure I never got too engrossed in the book I was reading on an hour-long subway commute, each way, to work in Congress, or I would end up with a pervy sitting too close.
The long and the short of it is that dick does not embarrass me. I find it simultaneously to be one of the most desirable and laughable parts of a man.
I don’t think older Korean men expect you to stand up to them. As a younger woman, I’m supposed to cower away in shame while his age and status protects him. Instead, I looked him square in the face, punched him, albeit not very hard as I’ve never really punched anyone before, spat on him, and gave him a glorious flying bird as I stormed away and he was left the one cowering in surprise.
So I’m left none worse off than before, and possibly with a chance to actually use my unlady-like biceps, but the issue that still stands is that our boss has us living in the worst part of town, and clearly doesn’t give a shit. This on top of the fact that some of his dinner conversation at the company party included a discussion about whether it is better to go to prostitutes or just find “wild” girls (his stand was that wild girls have more muscles “down there”). I missed this part, but apparently he had the new Korean female staff in tears harassing them.
Men jerking off in broad daylight is only one tiny part of a huge problem that women here are still viewed as toys. I did see the part where the boss forced all the new staff (myself included) to drink two giant mec-so bombs in a row (soju, the local vodka type drink and meckchu which is beer). Say what you will, but through years of practice and possibly luck of some genes, I can drink a lot of men under the table. One new Korean staff was not so lucky and ended up leaving hurling and in tears. He forced her to drink more and called her weak. I’ll gladly throw back a few, but I was appalled at how he forced someone who clearly didn’t want to be there to do the same.
And how am I supposed to have a professional working relationship and make demands of someone who acts like this? Get through the year and find a different place to work? But where does that leave the people who come to this branch after me? And will they have to live in this shithole, slum apartment?
Who else out there is having similar experiences in Korea, or are we at a particularly troublesome school/location?
I was trying to find a Festivus clip, but this was way funnier:
Actually it was what felt like most of Saturday and Sunday. One of my absolute favorite things about Korea is the subway system that connects the entire northwest quad of the country. But, I feel like I am on the thing all of the time.
Just riding along.
So this is how I looked all weekend. Frazzled hair, huge bag full of books, and standing holding a subway loop. Actually I got to sit, a wonderous luxury, on a large part of the ride to go see Bybee, who lives near Asan. We had a great weekend chatting it up about books, boys…. and riding the subway.
A lot of people read on the subway. I love living in a place where reading is not just for the academics and dorks. They read on the subway so much, there are vending machines for books on the subway platforms.
I actually had enough time to read an entire book on the subway ride down to see her. In the Name of Honor
Bybee’s house was my first experience being inside the ever-present, high-rise, apartment clusters. They are like ant colonies. Dozens of buildings all in one place, exactly the same, 20+ stories high, with hundreds of people living in them. They are very functional, very unattractive, and dominate the Korean landscape.
We ended the day with another, very long subway ride back to Itaewon for the bookswap at The Wolfhound. Plus some only semi-successful cheese shopping at the Foreign Food Mart. It was a good solid weekend, they go by so quick now…
Unfortunately I forgot to recharge my camera battery before I left the house, so I only got a couple pics of the very modern, very cute, and very well designed Jukjeon area. You can tell this area is a little newer, because even with the huge highrises and standard set of stores, an eye for aesthetics is being taken into consideration while it is being built. We went to a great little walking street lined with restaurants and local coffee shops. No Leaf and Bean and TomandToms here, each store was individual inside and out, and the place we went for the Bookleaves bookclub had a great menu.
Bookleaves Crew - Aren't they nice looking people?
Apples
Typical Korean cityscape.
We read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society 
In what seems like a perfectly normal coffee shop, Dr. Fish has tanks of little fish that will eat the dead skin off of your feet for 2,000 won. It was really creepy and weird at first, but after about a minute I got used to it. Some Australian guys came and sat down next to me, and were squealing like babies. It made me feel tough, and my feet feel great.
Toe nibblers.
My three day weekends are dwindling. I’m fairly certain that the wonderful four day work week was just my prize for being one of the “newbies,” and that in two weeks I’ll be back to a five or six day work week. It has been great to have to have long weekends to explore Korea, and this weekend we took the bike out again and headed to the nearby Ganghwa Island. Ganghwa, and several of its neighboring islands are all part of the Metropolitan City of Incheon, even though like Buypeong, they have their own city offices as well. I’m not clear on how municipalities work here.
Ganghwa and Seokmo Islands make great day trips. There is a lot of cultural stuff to be seen, and true to seaside towns everywhere, there is a certain relaxed air along with the cool breeze.
The north side of Ganghwa island is spotted with dolmens, archaeological features made out of gigantic rocks stacked in various shapes. The most common in this area are table dolmens, two to four large rocks form a foundation, and a huge cap stone is placed on top. These rocks cover underground burials.
Table Dolmen
We took a road around the island, and headed south. The island is dotted with military checkpoints, and at one point we took a wrong turn, the soldiers quickly turned us around, looked at our map like they’d never seen one before, and pointed us in a vaguely different direction.
We ended up at Oepo, which we didn’t realize until the next day. Everytime we showed someone our map, first they acted really confused as to how or why we didn’t know where we were, and then they would flip through the atlas looking for something familiar, but it became pretty clear that map reading is not something many folks are exposed to here. I suppose that’s true just about everywhere, especially in places where people tend to lead fairly localized lives.
Oepo is a sea town famous for it’s raw fish restaurants. Neither Jim or I are really big on that, but I talked Jim into being more adventurous about food and we picked one. After much gesturing and getting nowhere, the waiter finally just dragged us over to the fish tank and motioned for us to pick one. There were conchs, which we tried one, flat brown spotted fish, and then regular looking long chubby fish. We tried on of those, having no idea if it was going to be cooked, prepared, or just served whole on a platter. Here’s what came out first:
Side dishes at the raw fish market
A seaweed salad, the conch – which was really weird, slimy, salty and slightly bitter, some sort of snail that tasted like clams and we had to fish them out of the shell with toothpicks, the ever-present side of peppers, garlic, and chili sauce, fried shrimp (complete with shells and heads), a fillet of small relatively tasteless fish, some cooked whole shrimp, and basket of greens.
The fish we ordered came out raw on a pile of clear “noodles” cut into delicate little pieces with side of slightly different chili sauce.
It was really good, and then a soup with the head and the tail of the fish in it was brought out. The soup was fantastic, but really, really spicy. We managed to avoid the head of the fish, I never knew that fish eyeballs turn completely white when boiled, until the waitress came out and cut up the head with a pair of scissors, releasing the bones, scales and who knows what else into the broth. It was kind of sad.
Unfortunately, I felt like most everything except our large fish tasted vagely of dirty ocean water, but we got out of the culinary adventure relatively unscathed.
The next morning we hopped a ferry to Seokmo Island, where the very famous Bomunsa temple is nestled on a cliff-side of one of the interior mountains. It was a lovely area, with a huge, gorgeous temple. It was the hottest I’ve felt yet this summer, but the place was still teeming with people.
It is a holy site that has several components that have all been combined into one temple. There is a cave temple that was built around the year 635. I didn’t get a good shot of it, but in this shot from above the cave looking down on the buildings you can see the top of the rock that is the temple. Cave temples are one of the things I am really interested in regarding Mongolian archaeology. Buddhism has been persecuted many times as a religion, particularly in North Eastern Asia. In Korea many of the monks took refuge in the mountains and in Mongolia they went into hiding in caves. This part of Korea used to be the capitol of the country, and was invaded by Mongols in the mid 1200s.
Also at this site is a 32 foot carving on a cliff face of Buddha constructed in 1928. It was a difficult and really hot climb up the side of the mountain, but we got to talk with some students whose parents were eager to have the money they spent on English lessons put to use. We talked for a while with a college student who gave us some information on the area and was really friendly, until it became clear his father was upset his son was spending time talking to us instead of praying.
Hot and exhausted we caught the ferry back to Ganghwa and did a tour around the south end of the island, which was a huge mistake. There was an enormous sea of people going to the beach that day, and between people trying to park along the road and all the folks walking, it was impossible to get anywhere. The beach wasn’t a sandy beach like we think of it, it was low tide, and a giant mud flat where people were digging for shellfish, rolling around in the healthy benefits of sea mud, and generally getting sun baked. Who needs mudfest? Folks can come to the beaches and get covered in mud anytime.
We finally made it through and made a pit stop at one more temple before riding home. I was so tired at this point, even I couldn’t find much to be excited about. Jeondeungsa temple seemed very new to me, and in fact several new temple buildings were under construction. People were buying slate roof tiles and writing things on them that I assume where going to be blessed and then used on the roofs of the new buildings.
I did like this temple that had “guards” in the doors. I wasn’t sure if they were there to keep evil spirits out, or to bonk lazy practitioners such as myself on the head as people walk in.
We finally headed back to the Incheon mainland, feeling culturally fulfilled. We got quite lost, and a really generous Korean man in a car saw us scratching our heads and looking at street signs. He was trying to give us directions, but then just decided to go out of his way and drive us to the intersection we needed. It was such a great ending to the day to have someone go so much out of their way.
As we were following him, we noticed he was driving a Ford.
Ruby Ramblings 