Goodbye Korea

Rob has a serious hankering for sundubujigae, that soybean paste tofu stew he loves so much. Like a good wife, I subjugate my desire for Korean pizza, the authentic, thin pancake variety, and we go next door to Myungin Mandoo. I have a noodle dumpling soup, and it hits the spot.

The motel owners kindly store our luggage for us after we check out. We take a last walk around our neighbourhood, this time looking in at the giant Lotte Duty Free store downtown. It's packed with toney, pricey designer shops, the types where the servers look down their snouts at average folk doing a little window shopping. I've been thinking of getting Kael a little gold pig for his 21st birthday, coming up in a couple of weeks; pigs are his favourite animals. I actually have the temerity to ask a man how much one the size of a chickpea costs. 475 dollars, he sniffs. I walk on, smiling inside for having forced him to do something so distasteful as serve a customer from the wrong end of the social spectrum.

It's back to our motel area to await a call from Diane and Sen who are in town for a concert. We slip into the motel to check email, and we come face to face with the next occupant of room 401. Woojung Rusthoven is a handsome young Dutch fellow of Korean descent who is majoring in communications in Amsterdam. He has stylish boy band hair and a wardrobe to match. He's wearing faded black designer jeans, an elegant black fitted dress shirt, and biker books. He would receive excellent service at the Lotte Duty Free store.

Woojung is in Seoul for a gathering of fellow Korean adoptees who met in Amsterdam last year, and this year are visiting the land of their ancestors. We provide some handy hints regarding how to get around and where to eat, and then we exchange email addresses. I'll be interested to hear how a hometown boy, with a thick Dutch accent and no knowledge of Korean culture, experiences the country.

When Diane and Sen arrive, they treat us to coffee and cake at Bonespe, a popular chain owned by the Lotte Corporation which has a lock on the sales of everything from chewing gum to designer clothes to appliances. They walk us to our bus shuttle stop, and Diane gifts me with a CD of the boy band known as 2PM, which she's seeing tonight. While we're at the stop, Woojung walks by and says hello. It's outrageous to consider how often we've bumped into the same people in different locations on this trip. In a few hours we'll meet up at the airport with some Americans we saw this morning far from our motel. Remember, Seoul has more than six million people.

As we bus to Seoul International Airport, we pass by thousands of people enjoying a day in the sun. In Seoul, this means sitting on rocks under bridge, or setting up red and blue umbrellas, row on row, on wooden peers that jut into the Han River. There's no beach to speak of. God help anyone who loses their group, for everything looks exactly the same. It's just like the millions of skinny highrises everywhere we've been. They are absolutely identical, and when grouped, present a scene like that in a science fiction movie.

We check in at 6pm for a 9pm flight, but are unable to get the bulkhead row to stretch out our legs because the flight is full. We do get a window seat, but at a spot where there is no window. Meals at the airport are fairly reasonably priced, especially considering the high standards and upscale nature of the place. We end up grabbing a shrimp burger and a bulgogi burger at the Lotteria, owned by, you guessed it, the Lotte Corporation. Again, science fiction is ahead of the curve having predicted decades ago a world run by mega corporations.

We arrive at our departure gate and doublecheck to make sure all items we may require on board are within reach. I walk by a beautiful young Sikh fellow in a black turban, dark brown dress shirt, and dark jeans. He smiles and says, "Hello." His ink black eyes and princely features are capped off with a flashy smile featuring a perfect set of the purest white teeth. I notice a sign that promotes Seoul Airport as being Number One in the world for five years in a row, including last year. Yes, I can certainly see why!