Nils Lofgren--"Mr. Soul" (mp3)
The Sheds--"All You Need" (mp3)
I was very proud of myself on Monday. I had a free afternoon after teaching in the morning and made the decision to strike out like Lewis and Clark, like Huck Finn, like everything American for new territory.
So I got on the subway. You know, of course, that I have not mastered Korean in the three days I've been here. Sometimes, I can remember how to say 'Thank You.' I had a tenuous map, and that was it. After fortifying myself with a pseudo-Austrian lunch of a sandwich and lemonade, I walked down the steps with a clear goal in mind: Namdaemun Market. This is the premiere market in the country. Not only do I like markets, but this one was across the river, requiring a transfer from one subway line to another.
I was probably 3-4 stops into my trip, after successfully figuring out how to buy a ticket (which cost 1100 won for those interested) when I realized that I was halfway around the world and that not one person on this planet who knows me knew where I was. Not one. And that probably included me. My heart pounded a bit.
But then I kind of laughed to myself and felt oddly refreshed by the thought. The other thing that had me pondering my place in this world was the realization that I was the only white person around. This situation would continue on both the trip and the trip back and during my time at the market. It's pretty cool. You're aware of it. You realize that occasionally people are looking at you on the subway, that some of the people at the market are looking at you as an easy mark because you aren't like the rest. You have two choices when you are the only white person: either you feel white and out of place or, as you walk around looking through your viewfinder, you kind of forget that you are white because everything around you that is happening is Asian. I experienced both.
Namdaemun Market is like no place I've ever been. A mass of humanity, a mass of streets, everything possibly legally for sale, and maybe some things that aren't. In the center of it all, a man with no legs, but with the stumps protected from the ground by a rubber tarp as he drags himself around on a plywood board with rollers, chest down, no more than 3 inches from the ground, plays various cassette songs as he struggles through the market collecting money. Among the many clothing stands with Hello Kitty knock-offs, shoes, and all kinds of women's clothing and lingerie sit the food stands. Five or six stalls with huge glass jars that look like they're filled with honey and maybe a mandrake root. (my students tell me they are filled with ginseng liquor). Tubs of eels and turtles for sale, the eels slithering and squirming all over each other, the turtles with their heads yearning for the surface, neither group realizing they will be tonight's meal somewhere. Glass cases with smoked half-heads of pigs and piles of smaller portions of smoked pig carcasses. Bowls and bowls of the largest raspberries and cherries you've ever seen. If you pause, the vendor will approach to try to make a sale. A few know to say "Hello, how are you?" All know that the only American in the market is a prime customer. Down the alley noodle shops with plastic walls serve an overflow of customers. Farther down the street a crowd gathers around a man who pulls up with a large square wooden cart filled with stacks and stacks and stacks of men's dress pants that appear to sell for no more than a few thousand won. And everywhere, the scooters and motorbikes, inching or speeding their ways through an opening in the crowd, bringing fresh supplies of souvenirs and other wares to the market stalls.
The Sheds--"All You Need" (mp3)
I was very proud of myself on Monday. I had a free afternoon after teaching in the morning and made the decision to strike out like Lewis and Clark, like Huck Finn, like everything American for new territory.
So I got on the subway. You know, of course, that I have not mastered Korean in the three days I've been here. Sometimes, I can remember how to say 'Thank You.' I had a tenuous map, and that was it. After fortifying myself with a pseudo-Austrian lunch of a sandwich and lemonade, I walked down the steps with a clear goal in mind: Namdaemun Market. This is the premiere market in the country. Not only do I like markets, but this one was across the river, requiring a transfer from one subway line to another.
I was probably 3-4 stops into my trip, after successfully figuring out how to buy a ticket (which cost 1100 won for those interested) when I realized that I was halfway around the world and that not one person on this planet who knows me knew where I was. Not one. And that probably included me. My heart pounded a bit.
But then I kind of laughed to myself and felt oddly refreshed by the thought. The other thing that had me pondering my place in this world was the realization that I was the only white person around. This situation would continue on both the trip and the trip back and during my time at the market. It's pretty cool. You're aware of it. You realize that occasionally people are looking at you on the subway, that some of the people at the market are looking at you as an easy mark because you aren't like the rest. You have two choices when you are the only white person: either you feel white and out of place or, as you walk around looking through your viewfinder, you kind of forget that you are white because everything around you that is happening is Asian. I experienced both.
Namdaemun Market is like no place I've ever been. A mass of humanity, a mass of streets, everything possibly legally for sale, and maybe some things that aren't. In the center of it all, a man with no legs, but with the stumps protected from the ground by a rubber tarp as he drags himself around on a plywood board with rollers, chest down, no more than 3 inches from the ground, plays various cassette songs as he struggles through the market collecting money. Among the many clothing stands with Hello Kitty knock-offs, shoes, and all kinds of women's clothing and lingerie sit the food stands. Five or six stalls with huge glass jars that look like they're filled with honey and maybe a mandrake root. (my students tell me they are filled with ginseng liquor). Tubs of eels and turtles for sale, the eels slithering and squirming all over each other, the turtles with their heads yearning for the surface, neither group realizing they will be tonight's meal somewhere. Glass cases with smoked half-heads of pigs and piles of smaller portions of smoked pig carcasses. Bowls and bowls of the largest raspberries and cherries you've ever seen. If you pause, the vendor will approach to try to make a sale. A few know to say "Hello, how are you?" All know that the only American in the market is a prime customer. Down the alley noodle shops with plastic walls serve an overflow of customers. Farther down the street a crowd gathers around a man who pulls up with a large square wooden cart filled with stacks and stacks and stacks of men's dress pants that appear to sell for no more than a few thousand won. And everywhere, the scooters and motorbikes, inching or speeding their ways through an opening in the crowd, bringing fresh supplies of souvenirs and other wares to the market stalls.I get a few things for the girls, but I start to get a little nervous about finding my way home. But I will be back.
The pictures above to do represent the market, they are just a couple of random Korea shots. "Mr. Soul" is from Nils Lofgren's new cd of Neil Young covers, available at his website. The Sheds remain the best unsigned band in America, though all of their songs are available for download at their website.
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