Hiking Potential and Preparation

I like hills and mountains.  The Korean word for mountain is "san".  When looking at a map of the Seoul area, the "san" suffix is widespread.  There are mountain names like Dobongsan, Suraksan, and the highest and grandest of them all, Mt. Bukhansan.  Magnificent, panoramic views await and reward the uphill hiker.

With the cool, refreshing air of autumn looming and the constant din of the city grating, the prospect of a good brisk walk on a distant, outlying trail becomes appealing.  But, being a firm believer in the school of thought that true happiness begins just out your backdoor (or at the bottom of the elevator shaft, whatever the case may be), it's probably wise and thrifty to explore potential hikes close to home.

That's not a problem as Seoul has more than thirty mountains largely preserved as parkland within the city proper.  To fellow Wisconsinites, mountains is an apt description.  Some of the summits are bare granite outcroppings with sheer faces.  To Rocky Mountain inhabitants, they would be referred to as molehills.  As I age, the less hill it takes for me to categorize it as a mountain.

There's parkland directly across Wolgye-ro (a busy street directly below us) from our home.  I can see it out our kitchen window.  It doesn't qualify as a mountain even by Seoul standards but it does have a significant rise in elevation from the street and some severely sloped trails that have washed out in places during recent rains.  Walking them is not exactly a stroll in the park.  Some caution is required.  The lower reaches of the park near Wolgye-ro are mowed, manicured, and laced with perfectly safe, smooth walking trails of various surfaces.

Stacey's principal at school, who's been here a couple years, relocated to our apartment building this year.  Shortly after our arrival, we were dining together and I told him of the wonderful park across the street.  Having lived elsewhere in Seoul last year, he was aware of it but had never set foot in it.  Fast forward a couple days and we're out to eat again with assorted faculty members and I notice he's limping.  Strange I hadn't noticed this limp the other day but I didn't mention it thinking perhaps it was a permanent disability I had failed to observe.

During supper, we're seated at the same table and he says he went up in the park last evening.  So proud of having informed him of my park discovery, I piped up cheerfully, "Oh great!  Really nice, isn't it?"  Turns out, his stroll was more like an adventure (which is really a pleasant euphemism for an accident in which no one is maimed or killed).

He had hiked up into the higher reaches of the park.  Some trails even have stairways and handrails easing the ascent.  As he reversed direction to descend, he noticed a path less taken but obviously more direct.  A shortcut.  So down he went and I mean that literally.  He reached a treacherous part of the path and took a tumble.  He maybe has a couple years agewise on me and mountain tumbling at our advanced stage is not good sport.  So, thanks to my recommendation, Stacey's principal ended up with a sprained ankle and a twisted knee.  He maybe tore his pants too.  I don't know.  I tried hard to change the subject before hearing all the gritty, excruciating details.  Off to a good start with Stacey's boss.

To avoid such calamity, I was in need of a sturdy, long walking stick with which to brace myself when headed downhill.  Unfortunately, my trusty old L.L. Bean walnut model was too cumbersome to make the trip overseas.  Time to gear up.  Thank goodness I brought my favorite Keen hikers along as I've been told there's not a size 12 to be found in all of this great land.

We were down in Yongsan on the weekend and, after visiting friends, Stacey and I popped into Emart which is the Korean equivalent of Walmart.  To my understanding, Emart somewhat replaced Walmart when Walmart pulled out some years ago.  I've read that Koreans were displeased with Walmart's level of customer service.  At the time, I thought, "What customer service?  And who needs it anyway?"  You grab a bag of chips and a tube of toothpaste, grumble a bit about having to stand three deep in line, and out the door you go.

I've since discovered what good customer service entails.  At Emart the ratio of employees to customers is roughly 1:1.  It's been said, in Washington D.C., if you want a friend, buy a dog.  In Seoul, if you want a friend, go to Emart.  The face of your new friend may change as you wander from department to department, but, rest assured, you will always have constant companionship.

In need of that new walking stick, I spied the sporting goods department a ways off.  As I passed through menswear to get there, I was greeted by a friendly clerk who escorted me through his department just in case I developed a sudden urge to buy a necktie.  Where menswear ended and sporting goods began, we parted ways, exchanging head bows and handshakes and pictures of our first born.  I forget now, was supper at my place or his next weekend?

Since I already had one dinner engagement lined up, I wasn't really in need of more companionship, so I snuck into sporting goods ducking low behind displays and rows of merchandise.  Peeking around the corner of an aisle, I spied a mannequin decked out in hiking boots, cool eyeshades, and a knockoff of a North Face jacket.  A telescopic walking stick was slung from its plastic wrist.

I swivelled my head furtively.  No clerks in sight.  I tiptoed on over to the mannequin and slipped the pole's wrist strap over the fake hand.  I quickly tested the stick for proper fit.  Perfect.  Got it.  Now, for the getaway.  A mad dash to the checkout was my best hope.

Not so fast.  I wonder if when I removed the wrist strap it set off an alarm somewhere.  Here came customer service patrol.  She wasn't all that scary at first, actually quite dainty and cute.  I held out the stick and tried to communicate effectively to her that I had found exactly what I wanted.  She was free to go wait on another customer who, perhaps but highly unlikely, was truly in need of assistance.

Why is it when I attempt to communicate with a non-English speaker, I raise my voice, enunciate more clearly, and tend to omit pronouns and articles of speech.  Continuing to hold my new find out in front of her, I spoke very clearly and loudly, "Stick good...like stick...want stick...kam...sa...ham...nee...da."  (The ending
meaning "thank you" in Korean, but be careful, if you know a little you're suspected of knowing much more).

Much to my chagrin, she grabbed the stick rather brusquely from my clutches.  I was thinking, "I'm in trouble now."  She's speaking Korean and I think she realizes I don't understand one iota of it, but she prattles on anyway, indicating with body and makeshift sign language that I should follow her.  Away she went with my stick with me trailing behind her.

She led me down an aisle where several clones of my walking stick were dangling, unextended, suspended by the wrist straps from a hook.  Suddenly it came to me.  I was amiss in dismantling the mannequin display without seeking assistance which would have been readily available had I not been sneaking stealthily through the aisles.

I apologized profusely although I don't yet know the Korean term for "sorry".  It's confusing.  I think there's several variations depending on formal or informal, who's sorry, what's sorry, where it is that you're being sorry, and the value of the Korean Won versus the U.S. Dollar.  So, in English, I spoke loudly and clearly, enunciating every syllable, "Sor...ry...Sor...ry."  It was truly heartfelt.  She seemed satisfied.  I plucked a fresh walking stick from the hook as she clung tightly to the one I had so callously stolen from the mannequin.

I thanked her again and turned to head for the safety of the checkout line.  Not so fast.  It was important to her that she demonstrate the functionality and features of my new purchase.  Granted, a telescopic walking stick is somewhat more complicated than a plain, old stick what with three sections and all, but it's not exactly comparable to buying a new Hyundai sedan.  You'd have thought it was as she broke into her sales presentation of an already sold product. 

It was all in Korean so I understood little or none of her spiel but her gesticulating and demonstrating were as plain as English to this foreign language addled American.  Did you know that a walking stick is used when walking?  The tip end is down and the grip end is up?  The wrist strap slips over your wrist.  Here's the tricky part.  To extend the segments, twist counterclockwise to loosen, then extend no further than the bright red "stop" mark, then twist clockwise to tighten.  After a thorough presentation, I was instructed in the use of accompanying accessories.  There's a little plastic sleeve to slip over the all carbide tip when not in use and a baffle to secure at the stick's tip when using in snow.  Marvelous invention, the walking stick.

Thorough preparation is time consuming.  I could use a better backpack but if I head back to Emart to buy one, I may not make it out to Mt. Bukhansan in time for autumn hiking. 

The Fury of the Storm

All of Korea was braced for the worst today as Typhoon Bolaven, which had hit Okinawa hard, approached from the south.  It was billed as one of the strongest typhoons to pass through these parts in the past fifty years.  Today's school closures were announced yesterday pretty much nationwide in anticipation of the big blow.  Stacey and I scurried into a small grocery market last evening to purchase some food staples just in case we couldn't or didn't want to venture out today.  The place was packed with shoppers.  We bumped into one of Stacey's colleagues who has lived here four years and she said, up until now, she had never seen so much as a line at the checkout. 

Reports coming out indicate substantial wind and water damage and widespread power outages on the southern tip of the Korean peninsula and Jeju Island.  Morning hours here in Seoul brought moderate rainfall and light to moderate winds.  The wind speeds have picked up during the afternoon.  I would estimate gusts up to 50 mph but I don't see any evidence of  damage in our neighborhood although, I must add, I haven't been out and about.  Buses are running and there is light traffic.  Delivery vans from local markets have stopped by our apartment complex today so it takes much more than a typhoon to bring an absolute halt to commerce in Korea.

Stacey and I were entertained earlier watching misplaced, open umbrellas  and assorted pieces of trash go airborn over the courtyard area out our living room window.  The wind would gust scooping the items up and away they would sail toward the heavens.  A small styrofoam cooler rose nearly to the rooftop twenty stories up before catching a downdraft and plummeting to earth.  It doesn't take much to amuse once people reach and exceed the half century mark.

So, today here has the feel of a winter blizzard back in Wisconsin minus the snow and bitter cold.  We could head outdoors if necessary but it's just more comfortable staying in.  And, here, a body would run the slight risk of being struck by a flying object.  The storm pushes northward as I write and the fury of the wind seems to be abating.  We seem to have dodged the proverbial bullet.     

Getting By With A Little Help From Our Friends...or...The Kindness of Strangers

Stacey and I had never in our lives experienced anything like the combination of heat and humidity that greeted us upon our arrival in Seoul.  Record high temps were set for six days in a row.  Is it possible for relative humidity to exceed 100%?  Even Koreans slowed down their hectic pace a wee bit.  How is it a human body can drink four gallons of water in a day and not urinate.  It's called sweat.

Our walk to school is a relatively pleasant amble of less than a mile up Wolgye-ro.  Pleasant on a pleasant day, the stroll can become rather gruelling during a heat wave.  As good as Koreans are at lining their streets and boulevards with succulent vegetation, heat still gets trapped at street level on hot summer days.  The smells of hordes of people living in close proximity are also at their finest.  Whiffs of petrol, kimchi, and excrement or a mixture thereof hang heavy in the humid air.  It makes a person yearn for a cleansing rain or a stiff northerly breeze.

We could catch a bus or taxi but where's the fun in that?  Real men walk or drive a Harley up the sidewalk but we'll get into that another day.  So, in the heat, the walk to school can be overtaxing.  Several days into the heat wave, Stacey and I were working up the courage and conviction to set out for school.  It was morning and it was sticky hot.  We knew well the walk would be more like a swim through sauna-like air, perspiration dripping from our foreheads and our lightweight clothing pretty much drenched.  We knew we could do it.  We're hardy, aren't we?  To get to ground floor on the elevator we go down "4-3-2-1-L" with "L" being street level.  We love Seoul and our new life but we were dreading stepping outdoors.

The elevator stopped at "1", the doors slid open, and little did I know just then, we had come face to face with an angel of mercy.  What turned out to be a Japanese woman pulling a small wheeled cart loaded with two crates of the loveliest, most fragrant peaches ever entered the elevator.  She had a couple kids in tow.  Not much English is spoken in our very Korean part of Korea.  Thus, lots of smiling and nodding on our behalf.  The Japanese woman began to speak Asian English..."You teachers at A-P-I-S?"  "She is," I acknowledged, pointing at a soon to be sweaty Stacey, adding "I'm just along for the ride."

More Asian English issued forth, "I A-P-I-S parent."  We didn't quite comprehend "parent".  Stacey and I eyed each other quizzically thinking "she's an APIS what?"  She could sense we were perplexed so she spelled it out, "parent...P-A-R-E-N-T."  Light bulbs clicked on over our heads.  We got it.  We were in the company of the mother of APIS students.

"You want ride to school in car with us?" she asked in a lovely, lilting Asian dialect.  Have you ever had an overwhelming urge to kiss a perfect stranger.  I mean to plant a big, wet, sloppy buss right on someone's cheek as an expression of undying gratitude.  I'm happy to say I restrained myself so as not to be reported to building security.  The elevator doors closed.  Instead of stopping at "L" and Stacey and Rod hitting the hot bricks, the elevator continued on down, "B1...B2".  The doors opened and there before us was a rather normal underground parking area.  To us, it was the most beautiful array of vehicles ever assembled.  An oasis of relief.

We got our ride to school and were given peaches as were many other grateful peach recipients at school that day.  We worked several hours.  When it was time to head home, we set out across the steamy, hot APIS parking lot.  Now we would get to sweat.  Hark!  A distant voice!  "You want ride home?"  It was the lovely, diminutive Japanese woman... the Heavens had assigned us a guardian angel.  Must be doing something right.

So, anyway, to wrap up, our APIS provided mattress in our apartment is really hard.  How hard?  Think twice as hard as a hardwood floor.  Granite maybe.  No problem.  Simply buy a new, thick mattress pad and haul it home on the bus or try to arrange delivery in Korean.  Easier said than done at this stage.  In a conversation with our new angel of mercy, I offhandedly remarked on the firmness of the bed.  She piped up, "I shop for pad for you.  I bring home.  You not like, I can return it to store.  How much you want spend?"  So I threw out a number.  "I think I can get for less," she added.  I've since discovered she's a savvy shopper.

So this past Saturday, Stacey and I were down at Yongsan in the heart of the city visiting friends from the States all afternoon.  We got home in the evening plumb tuckered out.  The in-building intercom chimed on the wall.  One new mattress pad coming right up.  Stacey and I enjoyed our best night's sleep since we set foot on Korean soil.  Life is good. 

First Impressions

Four weeks into life in the Republic of Korea and we feel well settled in.  Stacey hit the ground running as she had only one day between landing at Incheon and reporting for duties at Asia Pacific International School in northeast Seoul.  It was a rather remarkable flight over here on Asiana Airlines.  Left Spooner one day, spent that night in Menomonie connecting with Tyler and then onto the Twin Cities where we caught an early flight from Minneapolis to Chicago the following morning.  We proceeded to fly right back over Spooner as we embarked on a direct flight to Seoul (many flights into and out of Seoul use Incheon International to the west of Seoul on the Yellow Sea).  So we had about two days into our travels and had gone absolutely nowhere excluding straight up.

From there, things got interesting from a geography buff's point of view, thanks to the in flight progress monitor.  We headed northwest over the westernmost tip of Lake Superior bound for the skies over Canada's Northwest Territories.  Passed directly over Great Slave Lake and Great Bear Lake and aiming west flew along the entire length of Alaska's Brooks Range.  We lost a day crossing the International Dateline before heading out over Siberia.  Giving North Korea wide berth, we flew well into Siberia before swinging south into China's airspace over Manchuria.  Hundreds of places en route, I thought how fascinating it would be to be able to yoyo down, look around a bit, and then rebound back onboard.  Leaving Manchuria, we headed out over the Yellow Sea and approached Incheon headed east on a fourteen hour westbound flight.  We arrived safe and sound, a bit weary and well fed.  We were greeted in the terminal by school staff and escorted to our new Seoul home.

So, one month in, we do of course have first impressions which I'll divide into categories of people, place, and things.  Addressing place first, the small slice of Korea we've seen is a beautiful land well taken care of by its inhabitants.  Most people love home but we get the feeling Koreans especially love their home.  They work hard to keep things clean and inviting.  Seoul is a well-kept, bustling, energetic city.  You can't help but feel alive here -- the buzz of the city is intoxicating (or is that the soju?).

The native Koreans outside of the school setting come off as somewhat indifferent to our presence.  Why shouldn't they be?  Two more people in an area of twenty-four million inhabitants.  Big deal.  Two weeks in, a young Korean mother and her maybe five year old daughter pass me on the street.  The girl's eyes light up and she beams a brilliant smile, very proud to blare out in her best English, "Hellll--ooo."  Let me just say, Koreans have a way of growing on you.  

Things are abundant.  Gadgets abound.   Lots of packaging but recycling takes on a religious fervor.  Korean consumerism is every bit as rabid as in the USA.

We're feeling very much at home in our new environs.  The only thing we're lacking is the native tongue but we'll continue to work on that.