Above: Old and new City Hall, Seoul, South Korea
Sungmi was talking about her oldest sister, "When she was in school, everyone was poor but they encouraged the children to learn how to save money. Each child was required to open a savings account at school and put in as much money as they could every month."
Sungmi
is in her early thirties, but she has two older sisters, one eight years her
senior, the other five. Their
experiences growing up in South Korea were very different than hers. "Then, after a year or two, the
President took all of the school childrens' money everywhere in the
country. He said it was to build a
dam for the people. Years later,
we learned he kept the money for himself."
We
collected money, too, when I was growing up in the shadow of the Korean
War. On Halloween, we carried
small, orange, waxed cardboard UNICEF cubes with a slot on top so that as we
made our candy rounds, we would hold the box out for spare pennies and dimes,
for the starving children in South Korea.
We would turn the boxes in at school.
Less
than a generation later, South Korea's miracle, transitioning from a military
dictatorship that took power in the 1960s in the aftermath of the devastating
war, to a modern, prosperous democracy, is hard to understand, but easy to see. Seoul, a twenty-first century megapolis
of over 25 million people, is clean, modern and efficient, the most wired city
in the world. The subway system is
fast, safe, ubiquitous, and inexpensive.
Street crime barely exists, not even pickpockets.
For
Sungmi, the transition to ultra-modernity and prosperity allowed her to attend
Columbia University and obtain a master's degree in Political Science. This was no small accomplishment as
Korean education is built upon intense competition and endless hard work and
only the very top students make it into the best universities. And only a select few of them get into
graduate schools in the United States, much less at an Ivy League university.
Our
choice of Seoul for our last excursion from Guam before permanently heading
home to Michigan was really one of happenstance. Because of my wife Silvia's tight work schedule, we could
fit in only a long weekend and our original choice, going to Vietnam, involved
at least 13 hours of travel in each direction making it impractical for a short
trip. But then United Airlines,
taking advantage of the renewed, burgeoning South Korean tourist interest in
Guam, began non-stop service between Guam and Incheon Airport outside of Seoul
and that decided it for us.
We
contacted our oldest daughter whose good friend Ben, a fellow graduate student
at Columbia, whom we had met and enjoyed spending time with a few years earlier
in Berlin, had married a South Korean woman, Sungmi. Stars do align, and literally the same day we contacted our
daughter to find out if Ben was in Korea, Ben had reached out to her to find
out how she was doing. It turned
out that Ben and Sungmi, who had been in Korea earlier in the year for their
marriage ceremony, had been living in Seoul where Ben was finishing his PhD
dissertation and Sungmi had taken a job with a prestigious Korean steel
conglomerate. Now we had more than
guidebooks to shepherd our exploration.
We
easily found the KAL downtown hotel bus at Incheon Airport and had a short wait
before settling back in comfort for the one-hour trip. Driving into Seoul gives only glimpses
of its enormity as mountains nestle the city and obscure the sheer scope and
size of the metropolis.
The
downtown district is situated between two of Seoul's picturesque mountains,
Namsan and Bugaksan. It affords
pleasant walks or short cab rides to Seoul's most historic palaces
(Changdeokgung, Gyeongbokgung and Deoksugung), numerous pedestrian friendly
shopping districts and markets (Insadong - stylish shops, bars, and
restaurants; Dongdaemun - cheap local merchandise and food stands; and
Namdaemun - name brand chain stores and restaurants), and Cheonggyecheon - a
recently uncovered stream turned into a pleasant urban walking retreat and a
staging ground for seasonal art and display festivals.
A
word about the Korean language: it's mysterious in origin and doesn't
transliterate easily or accurately into English. However, there are some regularities that make it easier as
it has a system of pre-fixes and endings for nouns that tell you a great deal:
words ending in "gung" are palaces; ending in "daemun" are
markets; ending in "dong" are areas or districts; ending in
"gang" are rivers; ending in "cheon" are streams; ending in
"san" are mountains; etc.
All guidebooks have a glossary in the back that will give you the full
picture. Beyond that, English is
widely spoken only at the major hotels in the downtown district, but most
restaurants have picture and/or English menus and Koreans who do speak even a
little English are happy to have an opportunity to practice with you. Cab drivers rarely speak fluent English
but know enough to get you to your destination. However, it's always a good idea to have a card from your
hotel with its name and address written in Korean.
The
Korean written language, Hangeul, is a fifteenth century invention by one of
the great Joseon kings and is roughly equivalent to written western alphabets
and much easier to decipher than the Chinese characters that it replaced. Korean students still study around 2000
Chinese characters in school and a few of the characters are used in daily
life.
We
chose as our hotel the Westin Chosun, considered, along with the Lotte Hotel,
the nicest (and most expensive) in the downtown area. For around $300 a night (including all taxes), we received
an elegant room on an upper executive floor that included a sumptuous breakfast
(two days in the Executive Lounge, two days in the buffet restaurant) as well
as access to the lounge, where the happy hour food (and alcohol) spread was
good enough to serve as our dinner on two nights. Lower cost choices at nice hotels abound in the downtown
area, as well as traditional Hanok guest houses (similar to Japanese Roykon,
with austere elegant rooms and futons for sleeping on the floor) and very inexpensive
motels. Gangnan, the sprawling
business district south of the Hangang (Han River) that bisects Seoul, offers
other luxury hotel options, but that district is not a particularly convenient
one for tourists.
Early
November is still fall color change around Seoul and the hilly terrain creates
micro-climates that were in various stages of color: in many of our walks and
explorations, Ginkgo and Korean Maple trees were in their full bright yellow
and brilliant red regalia. Note
the reference to "Korean Maple" trees, trees that in the United
States are commonly referred to as "Japanese Maples." Korea's relationship with Japan is
fraught with complication: if you travel in Japan and see their uniformly
polite and gentle contemporary ways, it's hard to imagine that these same
people, at the turn of the twentieth century, were among the most brutal
colonial powers in modern history.
Their bloody occupation of large swathes of China in the 1930s and the
entire Korean peninsula from 1910 to 1945 is still fresh in the political minds
of both China and Korea. Japan's
occupation of Korea was particularly devastating: they attempted to ban the
Korean language, both spoken and written, and turned historical sights into
Japanese temples and bureaucratic offices. Japanese sexual enslavement of Korean "Comfort
Women" during World War II is still a controversial and painful political
issue, especially in light of Japan's recent resurgence of nationalism and soft
pedaling of war crimes committed by Imperial Japan. So, in South Korea, they are "Korean Maples", not
Japanese.
Arriving
at the hotel, our room was over an hour from being ready, so we dropped out
bags, grabbed a map from the concierge, and took off to explore our new
neighborhood on foot. Our
afternoon and evening was free as we weren't meeting Ben and Sungmi until the
next morning for two days of planned activities. We had lucked out on weather: it was a pleasant fall day in
the upper fifties Fahrenheit, and there was no rain in the forecast for our
entire visit.
On
our first walk, we started west, first strolling through the bustling City Hall
plaza, where a market was being taken down. Groups of uniformed school children were playing games and
"exercising" on the wide expanse of lawn in front of the ultra-modern,
curving green glass building, as well as going to and from the Neo-colonial Old
City Hall, now a library. Crossing
the street towards the Deoksugung (Deoksu Palace) we discovered fading but
still vibrant fall colors peeking out from the walls, a street market of
touristy souvenirs and not so cheap clothing and accessories, and an elaborate
"changing of the guard" ceremony outside the palace gates with
brilliant colorful period costumes, weaponry, and musical instruments. Several of the palaces have these
ceremonies at scheduled hours (posted on signs in English by the palace gates),
each lasting about half an hour.
The
area to the west and north of City Hall is a quiet district consisting of
several large foreign consulate installations, museums, and schools. The first broad boulevard is primarily
an office and business district, and here we found an open bank to change money
as well as modern, pedestrian friendly plazas with surprisingly creative
contemporary sculptures perfectly integrated with the streetscape.
Ben
and Sungmi had sent us several suggestions for dinner places near our hotel and
we chose a seafood place about two minutes away called "Gui Gui" (구이구이 in Korean characters)
specializing in grilled fish. Food
is a huge part of Korean culture, and the variety, quality and generous
portions are universal, perhaps in compensation for the many years of
deprivation suffered during the twentieth century until the 1970s. Restaurants, which are generally quite
inexpensive, tend to fall into well defined categories encompassing mandoo
(dumplings with multiple filling types served in a light broth with mixed
vegetables), bibimbap (rice dishes with special ingredients such as marinated
meats or fish such as abalone, often topped with an egg, including vegetables
and usually served in a heavy ceramic or cast iron bowl with a red chili sauce
that you mix yourself to finish the cooking), barbeque (often "do it
yourself" at the table/grill, specializing in bulgogi - marinated sliced beef,
and/or kalbi - marinated beef ribs; also pork or chicken is common) and hot
pots ("do it yourself" dipping of various vegetables and meats in a
boiling broth at your table.)
Accompanying every meal in Korea is banchan, a vast array of side dishes
of marinated, pickled and fermented roots and vegetables led by the ubiquitous
kimchee. It is very easy to
over-order as these dishes alone, plus one entry is often more than enough for
two people. Koreans use chop
sticks, but a pointed variety made from stainless steel (so the many varieties
of hot and savory sauces don't cling to the implements) that take some getting
used to. We struggled at Gui Gui
with a round, slick savory olive-looking side dish; we were relieved to see our
Korean tablemates struggling with the same item. Street food, too, is widely available, especially in the
evening at any of the pedestrian markets and includes a wide variety of sweet,
savory, and meat dishes meant to be eaten while walking.
One other brief
note about food: Koreans are crazy for coffee. Starbucks is around every corner, as well as at least half a
dozen other Korean only chains; supposedly, South Korea, with its relatively
small population of around 50 million, is the 8th largest consumer of coffee in
the world. Given the littered
landscape of coffee places, this is not surprising.
Seoul at night is magical and pedestrian friendly. After dinner,
we strolled to an area north of our hotel, underneath one of the symbols of
Seoul, Jongno Tower. In 1994, an
addition to the top of the modern building created a "floating cloud"
metal disc, which houses one of Seoul's fanciest restaurants, the aptly named
Top Cloud. But the real interest
is Cheonggyeheon, an old stream channeled underground and turned into a highway
during Seoul's explosive growth beginning in the 1980s. Between 2003 and 2005, at huge expense,
the highway was torn down and the ancient stream was restored (although with
pumped in water). The sunken banks
and gentle river are now one of the most popular strolling and picnic areas in
central Seoul and we happened upon the opening night of the annual Festival of
Lights. Huge illuminated
sculptures celebrating Korean ancient history and culture floated anchored in
the soft flowing stream and on the banks as thousands of people strolled on the
walkways parallel to the river or along the sidewalk overlooking the
displays. It reminded us of
Providence, Rhode Island's Water Fire, a similar summer weekend festival along
its uncovered central stream.
A word about Korean pedestrian life: Koreans do not have as wide
a personal space as westerners, like the Chinese, perhaps because of their long
history of high density living. As
a result, jostling and bumping is common in large crowds and an inadvertent
shove or a close following or rough passing is no cause for concern or apology;
Koreans are unfailingly polite, helpful, and patient, but "excuse me"
isn't really part of their vocabulary.
Take no offense and don't be surprised if your automatic apology for
running into somebody is met with a blank stare. Also, like the Chinese, smiling at strangers, as we commonly
do in the west, is thought of as unusual and possibly deranged behavior: one
normally smiles only with family and friends. Don't expect wait-staff at restaurants to return your
automatic smiles and don't be offended if they don't. This isn't true at hotels and other establishments that
cater to westerners; there, the staff has been well trained in smiling.
The next morning, Sungmi and Ben picked us up at our hotel for
our trek to Bugaksan (Mount Bugak.)
Seoul has an almost completely restored ancient city wall around the
central section of the city. The
whole path, mainly on top of the wall, is almost 20 kilometers long and
includes the four major mountains of Seoul's central area (Bugaksan, Naksan,
Namsan, and Inwangsan.) It is a
smooth stone path most of the way, sprinkled with glorious little temples, but
extremely steep in places. The
wall was built mainly during three periods of the Joseon Empire beginning around
1396AD, with the last sections built around 1704AD. The three main building periods are easily identified by the
size and arrangement of the stones and in some places examples from all three
major construction periods sit side-by-side.
Below, views from the wall:
Because part of the day's hike overlooks South Korea's
"Blue House", their Presidential residence equivalent to our White
House, it was necessary to bring our passports and go through a security check
to enter the gate to the path.
Security is a serious matter in some parts of Seoul as it sits in the
shadow of the DMZ and South Korea is still technically at war with North
Korea. Additionally, incursions
from the north are not unheard of, and in the mid-1960s, North Korean troops
breached the border in an assassination attempt against then current dictator
Park Chung-hee. (Park was
eventually assassinated in 1979 by his own intelligence troops; this paved the
way for Korea's current democracy.)
There was a furious battle and scores of soldiers on both sides were killed. Memorial markers, including a famous
tree with 13 bullet holes carefully circled, are in place on the hiking route
and security guards, always with dark glasses and grim expressions, keep watch
over the day hikers and forbid pictures at various points along the route.
Taking a short cab ride north to the Buamdong/Changuimun area in
the shadow of Bugaksan, we first stopped for lunch at a popular mandoo
restaurant, "Sonmandoo."
The neighborhood is a quiet, hilly residential retreat with fashionable shops,
galleries, coffee places, and restaurants mixed among pleasant houses and small
apartment buildings. In recent
years, the area has become extremely popular with Seoul's burgeoning
upper-middle class.
Above, sauce pots outside of Sonmandoo.
The restaurant, situated in a modern house nestled into a
hillside, was already full for lunch before noon; we were fortunate that Sungmi
had made a reservation.
Approaching the entrance, barrel-sized covered ceramic pots filled a
small porch to the side: inside the jars, fermenting sauces and ingredients for
their banchan and other dishes. We
were seated at a table by the window and left the ordering to Ben and
Sungmi. We were quickly presented
with a huge steaming bowl of broth filled with vegetables and various sizes and
shapes of mandoo stuffed with shrimp, ground meat, and spiced vegetables that
finished cooking at our table - a perfect meal before our hike.
The day was cool and overcast, so a quick stop at "Club
Espresso Coffee Roasting House - Since 1990" yielded several cups of
Tanzanian and Ethiopian custom roasted coffee for the short walk to the gate; a
quick security screening where we presented our passports and received a tag to
wear on the trail and we were on our way.
The path on the top of the wall was wide and not crowded. We made frequent stops to catch our
breath and take in the unfolding views of the fall colors and beautiful
hillside neighborhood. It took
about an hour at a very slow pace to reach the top and the reveal of the massive
expanse of Seoul: to the south, through the haze, we could see the downtown
district and in the distance Namsan and its 777 foot tall Seoul Tower at the
top. Namsan, although it has the
southern reach of the city wall at its top, is the geographic center of modern
Seoul: on its other side sits the Han River and an equally large expanse of the
rest of the city, including the under construction Lotte Tower, which will
reach to 1824 feet tall when completed, taller than any building in the Western
Hemisphere.
We exited our walk at a gate that took us to a quiet residential
and commercial district north of the wall near the beautiful Samcheonggak
Temple. We contemplated walking to
our next destination, the famous (in Korea) Suyeonsanbang
Tea House, but we weren't exactly sure of how to get there. Instead we found a fortuitous (for us)
cab for the short ride. A
perfectly restored Hanok in the trendy Seongbukdong
neighborhood, this traditional tea house was originally the home of Korea's
most famous novelist of the first half of the twentieth century, Tae-Jun Lee,
who tragically chose to move to North Korea after the ceasefire and
mysteriously disappeared, probably the victim of a political purge.
The
teahouse was crowded and it took a long time to be seated and eventually served
at an outdoor table in the restful garden. We lingered over spiced ginger, green, and jujube teas, and
ordered two of the bean paste, pumpkin squash, and shaved ice traditional
desserts.
Wandering
the neighborhood after our respite, we found unusual small scale modern architecture
mixed in with a few traditional temples undergoing restoration and a small
alley with two or three intact and restored Hanoks. We walked into one interesting establishment that appeared
to be a kitchen store and Korean deli of sorts, called "All About The
Cuisine and Kitchen." It
turned out that many of the porcelain objects were works of art by one of
Korea's most famous ceramicists, Lee Sae Young. While expensive, the prices were reasonable as the artistry
and craftsmanship of the pieces was impeccable. (I tried to buy one small piece, with a small, beautiful
barely noticeable irregularity in the glaze, but it was not for sale because of
the flaw.) The shop also sold
traditional Korean furniture, beautiful, modern decorative objects adorned with
mother of pearl, crockery and cutlery, tableware, and custom made vinegars,
spices, and sauces.
Below, neighborhood houses, new and old:
Next
up, a quick, cheap cab ride to Insadong, a well known pedestrian area north of
the Cheonggyecheon Stream, lined with antique stores, trendy tea shops, street
food, street performers, art galleries, restaurants and people. We wandered for an hour or so, in and
out of shops, Ben partaking in his favorite street food, a kind of doughy donut
on a stick with a sweet filling instead of the hole area.
Our
next walk was south to one of the main business thoroughfares, Jonggak, in
search of a Korean barbeque restaurant (with "grade A" beef,
equivalent to our prime rating) located on the lower level of one of the modern
towers lining the street. Right
before the entrance was a surprising display in the plaza of a partially
exposed archeological site of Seoul's Neolithic predecessor settlement. Inside the tower, the walls held glass
cases with more artifacts and details of the settlement and the life of the
ancient village.
Each
table at the modern restaurant had a sunken charcoal fire and exhaust
hood. (Some of the cheaper
barbeque establishments don't have the ventilation systems and can get smoky
and probably a little dangerous.)
Ben masterfully sliced and cooked our prime steaks (cut into small
strips), served with the usual array of banchan and sauces. We ordered several varieties of soju,
the Korean national drink that is usually made from rice, clear or slightly
cloudy, and stronger than sake but not as strong as vodka. Mainly served cold, it was a perfect
match for the tender, succulent meats and sweet and spicy sauces.
The
next morning was clear and cool.
We grabbed a cab and headed to get in line at Changdeokgung to see its "secret garden." Tickets for tours (in various languages) can be reserved
online, but the allotment was already sold out for the day. However, half the tickets are reserved
for "day of" sale, and the only way to get into seeing the gardens is
on a tour.
Changdeokgung has the oldest existing buildings of any of
Seoul's palaces. The Joseon Dynasty built the palaces of their capital during
their continuous rule from 1392 to 1910. However, being built of wood, and
Korea being subject to numerous invasions by the Chinese and Japanese, many of
the palace buildings burned and were rebuilt. During the brutal Japanese
occupation between 1910 and 1945, when Japan attempted to wipe out all Korean
culture (including the Korean language), many of the palaces were re-purposed
for Japanese government uses. However, starting in the 1980s, the Korean
government has undertaken a massive restoration effort for all of the main
palaces.
Within Changdeokgung is "Biwon", or the "Secret
Garden." It is really a sprawling, carefully landscaped natural area on
the slope of a mountain, bisected by two streams. We were early enough to
secure tickets for a Japanese language tour but you don't really need the tour
guide's lecture to appreciate the magnificence.
Below, the Secret Garden:
The fall colors were still vivid in their last brilliant moments
as the mountainside protects the garden and thus winter is slower to
arrive. Hidden pavilions,
carefully crafted ponds and streams, create a tranquil retreat, some framed by
giant 700 year old ginkgo trees in full yellow splendor, where its easy to
imagine royals of a previous age meeting for hidden trysts or drinking tea and
writing poetry (some of which is still carved on sheltered stones.) We lagged as far behind our tour group
as we could, but eventually, guards would notice us and shoo us back towards
our group. Still, we managed to
spend over an hour contemplating the peace and beauty.
Next on our itinerary was lunch at a bibimbap in the
shadow of Namsan and a cable car ride to the top. There is a walking path to the top, too, but it's about 600
feet almost straight up, so we instead waited around 40 minutes in line for the
quick ride to the top. It was a
beautiful, smoggy clear Sunday, so families were out in force.
Below, our lunch spot:
At the top, a
free traditional dance and music show was being performed in an outdoor
amphitheater at the base of the N Seoul Tower. The Tower, which was finished originally in 1971 as a TV and
radio transmission tower, was the first symbol of modern South Korea. (It was renovated in 2005.) Several restaurants inhabit the round
near the top of the tower, and food and view packages are available. But it's not necessary to pay the steep
admission charge for the view alone: the plaza around the tower provides
stunning vistas, as does the nearby small restored "fire beacon"
stone fortress where the Joseon empire used fires and smoke to communicate from
mountain peak to mountain peak and warn of impending invasions.
Above, views from Namsan.
Below, view from the cable car:
Below, the N Seoul Tower:
Above, the view from the Fire Tower.
There was no wait
for the cable car back down the mountain.
From the terminal, it was a short walk to the Namdaemun market, one of
the most colorful in Seoul.
Roughly organized into clothing, food, souvenir, dry goods, and
household goods sections, the stalls were crowded with Korean and immigrant
faces, as well as a few tourists like us. It was Sunday, but the market is even
busier during the week when the adjacent stores are open, too. Like some of the street markets in
China, many of the stall keepers and patrons appeared to be Muslim with the
women with their heads, and sometimes faces, covered. The merchandise was generally both cheaply made and
inexpensive.
Above, Namdaemun market.
On
our last day in Seoul, we got up fairly early and walked to Gyeongbokgung
(Geyongbok Palace) via Sejongdaero, a wide boulevard with a pedestrian
park/promenade in the center filled with temporary art and commercial exhibits.
Below, Admiral Lee at the foot of the promenade leading to Gyeongbokgung:
Gyeongbokgung
doesn't hold the treasure of Changdeokgung's hidden garden, but does have its
own delights, including a spectacular banquet hall "floating" in the
middle of a pond towards the mountainside, as well as King Gojong's
"palace within a palace," a small pagoda-like pavilion similarly
situated in the middle of a pond.
Below, the palace within a palace:
Next
to the palace is the National Folk Museum, a fascinating structure that
beautifully mixes modern and archaic architecture and includes an outside area
that is a faithful reproduction of a typical middle-ages Korean village.
Exiting near the back of the palace to the east took us to Bukchon,
a fashionable, quiet neighborhood that combines modern, stylish shops with the
last neighborhood of traditional "Hanok" style residences. Similar in
some ways to the Chinese "Hutong" residences, they have walls that
face the streets with ornate entrances that lead to central courtyard areas
surrounded by rooms. However, unlike the Hutongs in Beijing, which don't have
indoor plumbing and rely upon neighborhood bathrooms and showers, the Hanoks
are upscale, restored residences. The area is on the side of a hill and affords
spectacular views of both the downtown and the surrounding mountains.
Below, views around Bukchon:
Winding down our visit with a quiet dinner at our hotel, we
realized not only how much we had learned and enjoyed about Seoul, but also how
much we had missed: we never made it to the DMZ (closed for tours on Mondays) or Paju Book City or Samneung Park, with its Joseon tombs. I guess we'll have to come back some day....
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