Getting to know The Locals

The day starts with a visit to my host in the Language Education Centre, Hyunjeong Kim. Ryan, the Program Assistant for the International Summer Session is to take me to her. He shows up at 9:30 for our 9:45 appointment, so it's a good thing that we've learned to always be ready earlier than the set time. During our walk to the LEC, I can't help but think of the already very interesting life this handsome 25 year old has had. Ryan speaks English fluently for he did a two year stint in the U.S. military, stationed in Korea. He's pursuing his civil engineering degree, and will soon attend a couple of semesters as an exchange student at the University of Missouri. He also has a keen interest in international affairs.

I ask Ryan about the Bonsai style trees. He tells me that his father told him they were originally from Japan, but were transplanted here during the Japanese colonial period in the early 1900s in an attempt to "neutralize Korean culture." While these are known as Korean pines, he says the true native pines have longer limbs, are more curved, not as structured, and are far more beautiful.

Ryan also tells me about the tremendous insight he has gained into his family and Korean culture through reading the letters and journals of his grandparents. In a culture in which respect for elders is paramount, it's clear that Ryan has great appreciation for his own.

Once we reach the LEC, I am handed over to Hyunjeong Kim. Since Kim, Park, and Li are the three major family names in Korea, it's easier to think of people according to their given names, though Rob and I refer to "your Miss Kim" when speaking of our mutual contacts. Hyunjeong is an absolutely beautiful slip of a thing whose youthful appearance belies the depth and breadth of her education. Likely less than 30 year old, she speaks three languages: Korean, Chinese, and English.

Hyunjeong takes me on a tour and grandly introduces me to many people, who all bow and offer warm smiles. I figure out my second Korean phrase, "Anyang," which technically means "peace" but is used sort of like hello. I remember this from my days of watching the much mourned ex-TV comedy Arrested Development, in which a young boy from Korea says "Anyang" upon meeting his host family, and they, thinking it's his name, refer to him in this way ever after. (By the way, "Anyang haseo" means "Are you at peace?" This is also used as a greeting. I think it really speaks to the sensiblity of a culture in which balance and peace is much sought, and references to it are everywhere.)

After the tour, Hyunjeong and I hook up with Rob at the Angel coffee shop, a Starbucks style place, complete with Starbucks pricing structure. (Can I please have a $17 latte?) We fall to talking about her young family. Hyunjeong's husband works for a big electronics firm and is currently taking an English language training program. The Korean government is strongly pushing English training, and this has filtered down to the youngest segment of society. Hyunjeong's twin five year year old sons already are receiving intensive tutoring.

Like many North Americans, Hyunjeong is living the dream of the modern woman. She sleeps in until 7 a.m. (because she says she's "lazy") and takes her boys to school. By the time she picks them up, it's 8 p.m. Somehow, she still looks fresh as a daisy, or in her case, some exquisite, rare, orchid.

In the afternoon, Rob and I head off to Home Plus, a division of Tesco. This is the big go-to one-stop shop department store we've been hearing about. Our escort is Ji San, or, "wise mountain." Ji San is graduate student in philosophy, and he's Rob's TA. He's a slim man of about 30, with a funky loose pony tail and wire rimmed glasses. We pile into his mid-sized car, which Rob later worries will suffer suspension problems due to our bulk on the passenger side. En route to the store we query regarding all the neon crosses atop church steeples. To our surprise, we learn that Korea is one-third Buddhist, one-third Agnostic, and one-third Christian.

Home Plus is bustling. We jostle for position in the aisles, and note with alarm the price of meat and vegetables. Rob is vegetarian and I'm pretty close, so 20 dollars for a couple of tofu brick sized pieces of beef isn't an issue. However, the 15 dollar medium sized watermelon and 1 dollar apples are something else. No wonder this is a street vendor town. It's cheaper to get your bibimbap from the corner stall than to make it. Still, we manage to drop 113,000 won (just over a hundred bucks) on perishables and non-perishables, including individually stamped eggs. Apparently I'm not packing quickly enough for another customer efficiently jumps in and starts stuffing our produce into bags. Then we make our way over to the electronics area.

We're in the market for a camera, thinking repair of our broken model might take too long. We find a $160 Canon (with battery pack) that will do the job, but then realize we wouldn't be able to charge it back in Canada. Ji San kindly offers to make a call for us; he has a connection at a repair shop.

Once we get home, sensing that five hours of sleep probably isn't enough, we decide to nap. Four hours later we awaken, disoriented beyond belief. We gulp down some vittles, and then wander over to the courtyard near the Red Library where a small crowd of about 5,000 has gathered for the South Korea - Argentina FIFA match. Vendors jockey for position, small children kick football/soccer balls, and thousands flash red devil horns on the heads. Drummers sit on the back of motorcycles and race through the area, darting through traffic that barely acknowledges pedestrians scooting to and fro. Spectators munch on super thin slices of fish that are cut to retain their original form, so they look like fish lollipops. The light casts a reflection of a gigantic white statue onto a pond. Every so often, the entire crowd swings to face the gigantic screens before the Red Library and, in unison, gasps, or cheers. And before we know it, it's over. Diego Maradona's beaming 20 foot high face appears as Argentina celebrates its victory, and the crowd rapidly disperses.

Rob and I decide to follow the crowd past the statue with the rotating phoenix, and out the main Chonnam University gates into the streets. We wander in and out of little shops. Rob is astonished at my capacity for remembering pricing details. While I am functionally illiterate in math, when it comes to money, I'm a regular Sir Isaac Newton. It turns out the meticulously arranged individual leaves of red lettuce at the shop down the street are about half the price as those at Home Plus. We decide to do our grocery shopping around here from now on. (Take that, you multinational corporate bastards!)

We somehow manage to turn ourselves around, and like rats in a maze, scurry through alleyways for the next 2 1/2 hours trying to find our apartment. En route, we are teased by the slightest tinkle of rain which has prompted some to break out their umbrellas. At night, the grounds are surreal. The sculptures and trees cultivated to within an inch of their very existence create an atmosphere not unlike the Jetsons. Midnight finds us stumbling in the door, and then preparing water for use the next day.

Rather than contribute to the local landfills, we're choosing to purify our water with this handy dandy little purification device. It's a plastic handle with a thin two inch UV bulb that, when immersed in water, will cleanse it in 30 seconds. The future is now.

A quick nosh, ablutions, and to bed by 1:30 a.m.