Mamma Mia!

Miasamgoeri.  The word flows so trippingly off the tongue that it's a delight to say.  "Mia" is a particular neighborhood in Seoul.  "Sam" is the Sino-Korean equivalent of "three".  Literally, Miasamgoeri is "three-way junction in Mia".  The Korean pronunciation somewhat matches the English spelling which isn't always the case.  Try "Cheonggyecheon".  See what I mean?  Miasamgoeri.  It's melodious.

So, superficially judging a place by its name, I may well have been predisposed to like the neighborhood above and around the Miasamgoeri subway station.  It's about a twenty minute stroll down Wolgye-ro to the southwest of our humble abode.  Mia is indeed a junction at the confluence of three main arteries.  Busy is the key word.  Be prepared to age a bit while waiting for the traffic light's little green man to flash on allowing you to cross.

My first visit to Mia was not all that remarkable but for a near death experience.  That was back in early August.  It was hot and humid times ten.  It's not good to sit in air conditioning all day, I told myself.  Gotta get out. Explore.

I had yet to discover the abundance of small, Korean food markets and quaint eateries right outside my door and the allure of a mega Emart drew me down Wolgye-ro.  I hadn't quite figured out the bus routes yet so walking was my best option.  All that stood between me and a plenitude of familiar foods were waves of heat shimmering off blistering, hot pavement and a mini mountain of sorts.

I knew Seoul is not flat before arriving here.  That's a bit of an understatement.  Wolgye-ro cuts through a rather substantial ridge on the way to Mia; that is, the road cuts through the ridge.  The sidewalks do not.  They go up, up, up, and over.  Climbing inclines that steep during a tropical heat wave can induce heat exhaustion.  I'm happy to say I was aware of that.  I took my time, stopped frequently, and begged gulps of water off total strangers.  The downhill side went much better despite a lingering faintness and blurry vision.  The best Mia had to offer me that day was getting there and back.

After that rigorous day, Stacey and I began to discover that Miasamgoeri was our "go to" subway station.  It's about equidistant from our home with a couple other stations, but, in the case of Mia, the city buses pick us up and deposit us right at our door.  Once you've accessed the Seoul subway system, you're in a magical underground world where you can zip around, transferring freely, ending up anywhere you desire in the city.

After several recent subway outings to far reaches of the city, Stacey and I found ourselves usually transferring to the Miasamgoeri line so we could catch an easy bus ride back to our apartment building.  Mia is a happening place after dark.  There's electricity in the air.  Neon lights glow.  Horns honk.  Street vendors peddle their wares.  Swarms of smartly dressed people scurry about.

Down side alleys, sidewalk tables are full of diners.  Tempting, delicious food smells are pervasive.  Men sit and talk over Cass beer spiked with Soju (a clear, rather flavorless, cheap, distilled spirit which I guess is nothing more than a buzz enabler).  They pour a glass of beer, a shot of soju, and empty the shot glass into the beer.  Cheers!

We found Mia likeable.  Mia was beginning to take on the feel of home.  And then I discovered that, thanks to the accommodating bus routes, Mia provides the quickest run to pick up imported beers.  Labels like Guinness, Smithwick's, and Duvel await.  There's scarcely need to don outdoor shoes.  Catch the #9 bus down, dash into ground floor of Emart (nice of my Emart friends to display beer on the first floor instead of  fourth or fifth), hurry up the friendly clerk, and back on the bus, treasure in tow.  I can do it all and be back home stocking the fridge in under twenty-three minutes.

Last weekend, Stacey and I were enhancing our home decor and decided we needed new bedroom curtains.  It was a gorgeous evening and we also wanted to get in a walk.  I suggested a hike to Mia and a bus ride back home.  Instead of heading down Wolgye-ro, I turned into the park across from us, intending to catch a different southerly route that borders the far side of the park.  I'd never taken it, but had heard of it.

Stacey questioned me.  She thought we were walking down Wolgye-ro.  It was one of those husband-wife moments when opinions diverge.  I told her I thought we could take an unfamiliar route, and, since it was something new and special and out of the ordinary, we could count it as a date night.  I'm not sure she fell for that, but she did agree to my route.

It was early evening, but darkness was closing in (no daylight savings time in Korea).  Soon, music filled the air and lights danced.  Darned if there wasn't live music in the park.  Jazzy Korean you could call it.  Trombone, percussion, the whole nine yards.  It was intoxicating without the soju.  What a sublime way to pass a beautiful, early autumn evening.  I was right.  It was date night.  And all this just on the way to Mia.

Had we known of music in the park, we would have brought along a lawn blanket and spent the entire evening there.  But, of course, we had other plans.  We found the alternate southerly track to Mia and ventured forth.

Now, burdened with our North American background, we are of the mindset that being in unknown areas of big cities after dark can be cause for concern.  So, at this stage of such adventures, Stacey usually has a minor panic attack as to our whereabouts.  I can sometimes calm her nerves by pretending to know where I am.  Tonight was no exception, but the siren call of Mia was enticing and, intrepidly, we pressed on.  Fortune smiled on us.  Our new route landed us smack dab amid the glories of Mia.

Genuinely bedazzling is an apt description of Mia.  It's showtime every night and all you have to do is pry your way on in to become part of the act.  I had read a description of Seoul's public places as "move or be moved".  That's somewhat true along Mia's thoroughfares, but there is a maze of sidestreets and alleyways to explore that provide ample elbow room.

Koreans do merchandising on a grand scale.  A side alley vendor in Mia sells only bags and purses.  There appears to be enough bags for all ten million people in Seoul to buy two.  And, moving on, you'll see more shoes than there are feet in the world, and all those shoes are displayed in a big, jumbled heap.  But the action is on the street and that's the place to be.

It all awaits.  The lights, the motion, the noise, the shops, the foods, the people.  Mia surely is a spicy meatball.