The Subterraneans

(had a good run anyway)

The weather's getting warmer now. First week of February and Ajosshi (Korean for 'old man') Winter is already crawling under the subway gate and sneaking out of Seoul. I've heard that the last week or so has just been unseasonably warm, and that the bitter chill of those occasional Siberian winds won't have me switching-on the air conditioner this month yet. Still, to see signs of this much warmth this early, clearly this isn't the kind of place where the season's last snowfall comes during a late-May holiday weekend.

Incidentally, though, as soon as the weather gets warm enough so that you can't see your breath, you start to see the smog again. There's something about that crisp winter air that looks and tastes so much cleaner. When I'm not used to it, it looks so much like a foggy day here. But it's not fog; it's yellower, and decidedly more urban and poisonous.

This weekend was good, albeit somewhat sedate. Pleasantly sedate, though. Friday I popped out for a coffee and some non-inebriating drinks with coteachers Bora and Sue. At the (quite nicely adorned) coffee shop in Cheolsan I noticed a number of Koreans had written their names on small white rocks surrounding an ambient light, so I figured I'd follow suit, writing my own name in Hanguel. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for petty vandalism.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but Korea loves coffee - it's everywhere here. Actually, I should say that Korea loves coppee. There's no equivalent of 'f' in the Korean alphabet, so the closest approximation is P (there's no v, f, or z either, by the way). It's quite natural once you get used to it, but it's still impossible to say that I'm leaving the classroom to 'copy' something, 'cause the kids all laugh and say "coppee jussaiyo!" (I want coffee!). I often groan sleepily and mumble "Yeah, I could use one too..."

Back to the weekend, I grabbed a bite to eat with Bora and met one of her well English-endowed friends. Kate was a nice girl who works as a designer for an art magazine in Korea. She gave Bora the world's best Andy Warhol calendar and I envied her job and she gave me travel tips for Japan and offered free admission to an art exhibit here in Korea. We had some drinks at some Elvis-statue-adorned bar in Hongdae.

Past the weekend, the week was relatively standard fare. I was approached by an awkward woman on the subway the other day. After saying 'Hello' in questionable English, she told me she had 'Good News' for me!

I briefly pondered whether she might have been the Korean Ed McMahon, and whether or not I might already be a winner. I hardly had time to remember that I hadn't subscribed to any Korean magazines to qualify for their non-existent version of the Publisher's Clearing House before she whipped out the old 'Awake' magazine. She was a Jehovah's Witness. And she could hardly pronounce "Jehovah's Witness"! (remember, no 'v' makes it Jehobah.)

The magazine wasn't even a Korean translation, it was the same publication that creepy people in suits would leave on my doorstep back in Canada when I looked out the window and refused to answer the doorbell because it was them. The girl pointed to some article about calypso music and I apologized to her that I had that get off at the next stop. That wasn't even a white lie, just a convenient truth.

I've probably driven this point home pretty completely already, but the subway is really Seoul at its Seouliest sometimes. (In fact, I've driven that point well past home, around the block a few times, then straight into the ground.) Still, though, a means of transport that will take you across a very congested city for a little over a dollar and in less time than a taxi or your own car is sure to attract all sorts.

My images here aren't anything spectacular, just generically definitive images of the subway. Identically uniformed people going to school (formative adolescent years spent wearing the same thing as everyone else - no wonder so many want to dress with conspicuously noticeable style when they mature.) Old ladies (ajummas) selling rubber gloves and ginseng and lighters and dead fish and a random assortment of virtually anything that is available for sale anywhere.

And people just standing / sitting there, waiting for their stop, as photographed through the window's reflection. I don't take many pictures inside the train, as it looks quite conspicuous, and I get enough curious looks and approaches by random strangers as it is.

Speaking of curiousness and pictures, I'm depending on my students for comic relief once again this week. First up, I've got a short assignment written on the dangers of drinking. It's reasonably well-written considering it was done by a 12-year-old. What's curious, however, is that the assignment called for him to write about his favourite pop music, or whether he likes to sing at Noraebang (Kareoke rooms, they're popular with young and old here). While I realize that singing and 'dranking' booze go hand in hand, I really don't see quite how I ended up with this. I hope it's not his idea of a subtle hint...



Oh the other side of the subtlety scale (or rather, further to the side on the completely not subtle at all scale) I've got a few pictures from my Kindergarten students. On the left, Edward drew me rocking-out (possibly smoking?) with an alien. Next to that, Thomas drew me drop-kicking a snake. Even if the 'tweens think I have a problem, at least the 5 and 6-year-olds still think I'm pretty cool.