"Hey! Look, Mister!"

Young boy and traditional craftsman.
Namsangol Hanok Village, Seoul.

N Seoul Tower from Seoul Plaza

Distant N Seoul Tower as viewed
from Seoul Plaza.

Red, White, and Blue

I've met many Koreans in my short time in Seoul who regard America as the Promised Land.  I assure them that, for many people, it is a great place to live, but try to convince them that the life South Koreans have carved out for themselves here on the peninsula is pretty darn good also.  I think most Koreans realize that, yet the allure of America is strong.  I've met teens whose lofty ambition is to one day set foot on America's hallowed shores.

I've heard America referred to as the "Beautiful Nation".  I've had Korean parents beam with pride as they tell me of their son's or daughter's daily life in Seattle or New York or Texas.  Every day, I see Korean students working diligently hoping to earn placement in America's universities.  I had a young Korean man on the subway relate to me the virtues and vision of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison.

It's enough to give an American in Korea an inflated sense of self-worth.  On a daily basis, I view the New York Times "Lens" blog which features current newsworthy photos shot around the world.  Hardly a week passes that there isn't a picture of an American flag being torched somewhere in the world and, I would guess, there's probably been a few set ablaze in Seoul occasionally by one advocacy group or another.  But, by and large, as an American in Seoul, there's no need to skulk through back alleys.  I am free to walk the streets with my head held high and have been greeted and embraced solely due to my nationality.

Although I've done little or nothing personally in my lifetime to earn such praise and admiration, I do know some folks in America who paid the price for the respect I'm given today.  I try to represent them well.

I am a living symbol.  To many Koreans whose paths I cross daily, I am the worldly embodiment of things and ideals that are good.  I'm a metaphor of a distant land called America, a land they hold in high esteem.  A land that, on its better days, still embraces freedom and a progressive pursuit of happiness, and continues to make strides in the right direction to allow more and more people to partake freely in that pursuit.

So, in this highly charged and emotional political season, I crossed Wolgye-ro into Dream Forest (how fitting) last Friday with a tribute to America in mind.  I searched for the red, white, and blue.

Here's what I found.

Red leaves...

...white dogs...

...and a blue truck.
It's not a Chevy, but the Kia nameplate has become part
of the American landscape,
which only serves to strengthen ties that bind.

The Other Side of Seongbuk

This past weekend we took an amble on the other side of Seongbuk.  Seoul is divided into numerous administrative districts.  A "gu" is the Korean term for an administrative district.  We reside on the east side of the district known as Seongbuk-gu.

It's a bit of a hike to the west side of Seongbuk so we rode a bus so we could take a hike when we got there.  It's a human being thing.  No animal would think so irrationally.


Persimmon tree in west Seongbuk

It was a nice day for an amble which is really just a heady term for a walk.  An amble seems to imply leisure time in the lap of luxury.  You walk to work.  You amble through fallen leaves beneath a sun drenched, azure, autumn sky.

Seongbuk to the northwest of Hansung University Station is a good place to amble.  It's historic, hilly, and picturesque.  It's also a bit ritzier than our side of Seongbuk.  There, we saw large tour groups out "ambling".

We do get tour buses unloading by us.  People get off, dart into Dream Forest to go up in the observatory, and get back on the bus.  Over on the other side of Seongbuk, there are walking tour loops mapped out.  An entire afternoon or more can be spent ambling.

Walking tour group

Not to digress, but I do get a bit peeved about maps or the lack therof.  It used to be, if there was a trail, there was probably a waterproof box containing paper maps at the trailhead.  I really liked them.  You had to decide whether to roll them or fold them and had to take great care so they wouldn't get all crumpled or torn in your pocket or backpack.

Now, quite often, the paper maps are nowhere to be found.  In lieu is a sign with a hand drawn sketch or painting of a map.  People don't even take the time to study it in an attempt to commit some of it to memory.  They whip out their always present device of some sort and snap a picture of it.  How handy.  A portable, microscopic map.  Although if I knew how to use my device that Stacey insists I carry, I could probably enlarge the tiny, electronic map.  I'd rather just go on longing for the good old days of paper maps worn ragged after a long day's hard use.

No paper maps here

Getting back to the ambling, we put in a few enjoyable hours.  We funneled down alleyways, entered temples, and peered into windows of fine restaurants.  We passed on the fancy food because nuts and mandarin oranges from the backpack always taste better than haute cuisine when out on the trail.

We marveled at the old fortress wall of Seoul.  Originally constructed in the 1390's during the Joseon Dynasty, it surrounded the old city of Hanyang.  When viewing such wonders, I always feel remorseful for the conscripted laborers who toiled to build such a monument to man's inability to coexist.

The fortress wall

Trail marker

The wall contained eight gates, one of which is the Hyehwamun Gate.  We lingered a while at the Hyehwamun Gate because that's what tourists do.  Although, in the definitive sense of the term, we're not really tourists.  We just felt like tourists as the residents of west Seongbuk scurried past us going about their daily routine.

We saw well-dressed people carrying designer bags and wearing expensive shoes.  How is it bags and footwear have become status symbols?  When you think of it, both are of a very utilitarian nature.  There again, attribute it to the foibles and vanity of man.

We stumbled upon a small public park called "Seongbuk Friendship Place" which celebrates Seongbuk's domestic sister cities and the many countries that have ambassador residences in Seongbuk.  That was refreshing.  It was uplifting to see a simple virtue so lacking in much of the world being acknowledged and praised here in our new backyard.

Friendship Place marker

The flags of countries with ambassador
residences in Seongbuk

Friends lawn surfing on sheets of cardboard
at Friendship Place

Happy Days

Smiling faces of international educators
on a day off work.
Watch out for the cat!

Hancheon-ro

Along Hancheon-ro at dusk.
Gangbuk-gu, Seoul.

Baduk

Men playing baduk, a Korean board game,
along a Seoul waterway
on a pleasant, autumn afternoon.