I really did just overhear someone say, “Wow, they must have a lot of Nazis here in Korea.”
Of course, this symbol denotes a Buddhist temple.
It is not a Nazi swastika.
Tag: seoul (page 7 of 8)
This is a momentous day for me: I have finally been accepted as a real, legal alien Australian by the South Korean Department of Immigration. Wow, that rolls off the tongue. I’m like Sting’s “Englishman In New York”, twirling my cane up and down the street, asking for my toast to be burnt on one side, etc. Combovers, tweed – you know the drill. “Are you from that England?” Nope, I’m starring in Alien 5. That’s my spaceship over there. Oh, did I hit you with my extendable set of teeth? Sorry. Watch out for that drool, dude.
My odyssey through the Immigration system here began just over three weeks ago when I took the longest subway ride of my life to the Gwacheon Government Complex on the south side of the Han River (a kind of mini-Canberra bureaucratic theme park), only to discover that I was supposed to be another killer subway ride away at the Seoul Immigration Office in Omogkyo (sp?). It was between transfers on this shockingly long trip that I realised just how big this city is. Each subway station has its own theme and style, some including quiet reading areas complete with bookshelves containing real books; others crammed with specialty shops; and still others (for example, Gwacheon) sporting strange rock collections.
Once I arrived at the Immigration Office itself, a miserable grey building that a turkey like Dan Brown would doubtless describe as “forbidding”, I was treated to the sad spectacle of someone trying to escape custody – possibly for a visa violation – by running down the street, only to be caught and brought back to the building, sobbing uncontrollably. As I walked through the front gate I realised this woman was one of a whole busload who were being led down into the basement. Thinking that this was where the office was I followed but was told in no uncertain terms by a tough-looking official that I was mistaken and that I should clear off.
So I entered the real Immigration office and it was like something out of an apocalyptic movie – hundreds of people desperately trying to get to the counters, some of them furious and shouting, others just in a trance-like state. Of course, once I found the forms I would need to fill out, I realised I didn’t have the university’s business number. Haha. For a milisecond I contemplated ringing the English Department Office but one look at the phone book put me off that idea. I decided to return the next day. However, upon returning, brimming with confidence that I had filled in all the right boxes, I was told that I would also need a copy of the university’s business certificate. Haha. Hee.
On the tihrd day, I was told I would need to purchase revenue stamps from the junket operation in the basement of the building which featured a photo booth, scissors and glue (for sticking the photo on the form), a revenue stamp booth and an ubiquitous cafeteria area (packed). I finally got to the counter and had my application accepted and was told to come back in two weeks. Haha. Well, that put off my plans for travelling overseas any time soon (they took my passport). My final memory of that day, and a not-unpleasant one either, was seeing two female immigration officers, holding hands, walking out the door. Ah, Korea!
And so, today, to bring an end to this part of the story, I pressed the button marked “pick-up”, collected my ticket and almost cried when my number was immediately called. I was out of there in five minutes flat. On my way out I was accosted by some of the hordes of scammers selling phonecards – perhaps a necessary denoument to this strange but universal ritual. Brushing them aside, secure in the knowledge that I was now a real bona-fide alien, I strolled away, and dreamt of coffee scrolls and kippers. It’s not over yet, though: before I leave Korea I’ll have to bring the Alien ID card back, and for a short time thereafter I will again be in limbo, neither alien nor human; in any case, not Korean. No way, Hyundai.
A PC is obviously a personal computer but “bang” is the Korean word for “room”, so a PC Bang is a computer room, slightly akin to what we would call an internet cafe in Australia and elsewhere.
The big difference, however, is that while in a typical internet cafe one will find only travellers checking their email, in a Korean PC bang one will find Koreans of all ages playing games like Kart Rider, Starcraft and Lineage, old men playing online gambling games and businessmen smoking thousands of cigarettes, at all hours of the day and night.
Some people say that with the growing level of home internet usage in Korea (especially broadband), the PC Bang will soon become a thing of the past. Honestly, I don’t think so. It’s a unique space where people can get away from the everyday humdrum of their lives and shoot some aliens. Sounds good, huh?
During my time in Seoul (September–December 2005) I’ll be frequenting these often smoky, noisy and chaotic places, ostensibly to write poems but actually just to exist for a time in that virtual headspace we know as cyberland.
Hello, welcome to PC Bangs and my apologies for the delay in getting things started. I have now been in Seoul for what seems like an eternity but which has actually only been two weeks. Over time, I hope to describe some of the aspects of Korea’s unique ‘PC Bang’ culture. Here, ‘bang’ is a word that means something like ‘room’ so ‘PC Bang’ translates roughly as ‘computer room’ or, more helpfully, ‘internet cafe’. Over the course of the next four months I’ll be visiting various examples of the PC Bang phenomenon and hopefully taking some pictures of the really cool signwork they have here (you can see an example on the top right of this page).
First things first, though. I arrived at Incheon International on Saturday 27 August on a hot and muggy day. The only thing that I can really remember about the airport is seeing a sign reading “Gateway To Asia” and thinking – hang on, isn’t that Darwin’s claim to fame too? Doubtless, there are many “gateways” to, from and in Asia but I would hazard a guess that Seoul is perhaps more entitled to that description than Australia’s northern capital. Nevertheless, when I got out of the airport and headed for the bus, I was hit by a blast of hot air that I actually recognised from my time in Darwin in 1994 as a public servant. All of which is to say that at long last I felt I had arrived home. Only I was in Korea.
I’m currently staying at a hostel in Insadong, the arts and crafts ‘precinct’ of Seoul crammed with sweet shops, art galleries and classy home style Korean restaurants, not to mention one basball hitting range, a million street stalls selling the usual fare (notebooks, pencils, figurines) and about seven million people too. Despite the crowdedness of the main street, once you get off it and into the alleyways (where the hostel is located) it’s actually very quiet and about the most exciting thing that’s going to happen to you is getting run over by an over-zealous motorcycle courier. This is not Hanoi, however, and the number of motorbikes (or even pushbikes) is very small. This is partly due to the massive subway system, on the subject of which I could write a novel. Or two.
After settling myself in at the hostel it was time to front the university where I’m teaching this semester. Sogang University has a reputation as being one of the best in Seoul. I’m currently teaching two courses: one in creative writing and the other in Australian Culture. For a while I told everyone who was willing to listen that the Australian Culture course would be a short one. I made a lot of mileage out of that joke but now I’m here it just doesn’t quite seem so funny. That’s not to say I don’t pull it out every now and then but like the Western predilection for puns on the word ‘Seoul’ (‘seoul brother’, ‘seoul survivor’, ‘seoul searching’ or even ‘o seoul mio’) it wears a little thin after a while. That being said (and I’m not really sure why I even mentioned that), it should be a fun semester.
I have already given my students fair warning of what to expect from my classes by launching into a rendition of “Advance Australia Fair” at short notice. Knowing that I will be responsible for their grades at the end of the year, they wisely chose to roundly applaud my singing talents. So then I hit them with my a capella version of “Waltzing Matilda”. All I can say is that they had their chance. With forty five students in the class it’s the biggest group I’ve ever taught. My creative writing class on the other hand consists of only eight students, which is ideal, giving me enough time to focus on their work individually. So, yeah, it’s going okay at the moment. I have been given an office with a computer and an internet connection, which is great. The staff here are also very friendly so all in all, it’s not that different from teaching creative writing at Melbourne University.
That is, of course, until one leaves the university campus and hits the streets of Sinchon. The region around Sinchon is packed with universities (about five, I think), meaning that the whole area is full of students, student bars and a million shops trying to tempt these young consumers into parting with their cash in exchange for mobile phones, gizmos and gadgets, beer, pizza, noodles, music, t-shirts, coffee and so on. There’s a real buzz to the streets and the neon has to be seen to be believed. I haven’t ventured into the bars around here as of yet but hope to do so at the end of this month when Club Night rolls around again (15000 won gets you free entry to fifteen clubs in all). So far, I’ve really only experienced the nightlife around Jongno, just south of Insadong. But that’ll do me for starters. There’s more neon there even than in Tokyo, or at least it feels like it. There’s lots of clubs with various themes, lots of beer drinking and sometimes the odd ingenious device, such as the five litre jug of beer complete with dry ice machine to keep the contents cold.
Food-wise, I’ve been eating a lot of barbecue pork but also noodles, rice dishes and (okay I’ll admit it) the odd serving of junk food. I have also developed a taste for the chocolate biscuits, bean curd sweets and sponge cakes that you can find in almost any convenience store. Cold coffee in a can has also sustained me quite well, while the ion replacement drink Pocari Sweat is a pleasant though acquired taste (ie, it actually tastes a little like sweat). The same can be said for the local spirit, soju which, when mixed into a two litre jug of lemon cordial tastes like nothing at all but may leave you blind if you drink too many shots. The beer is quite nice though not so strong. Then, of course, there’s kim chi. I know that many westerners can’t stand it but I have to say I really like it, and I haven’t had any yet that’s really blown my head off. In fact, it’s quite mild and goes well with beer. Heck, almost anything spicy goes well with beer.
So far I haven’t done a lot of sightseeing but I have been to one massive palace, the enormous war memorial next to the Yongsan US military base, several markets of the flea, junk and craptastica varieties, as well as just poking around the streets of Insadong looking for unusual signs. Of which, more later, that is, as soon as I get a digital camera. I’m also about to get a phone which will make it easier to stay in touch but I’m shying away from purchasing any more electronic gadgets at this stage. In fact, I have discovered a shop that sells cassette tapes and so I’ve rigged up my Walkman in my hostel room together with a couple of speakers in a nifty little lo-fi kind of set-up. Add a couple of James Bond movies on cable television and I’m in heaven. Well, actually, I’m in Seoul but more on that (and everything else) later, dude.
This introductory course equipped students with a set of skills with which to write personal and/or autobiographical poetry and prose.
Focussing on the notion of “Autofictions”, it encouraged students to explore personal stories (whether about themselves, members of their families or friends) and then move beyond the personal as a creative writer.
The course allowed students to develop their own writing skills (through a series of weekly exercises) as well as their understandings of writing practice (through a set of course readings).
In addition, students were expected to read and discuss their own and other students’ writing in class with an informed critical eye. Students received a writing exercise each week and were expected to hand in three exercises at the end of the first assessment period.
The final assessment for the course consisted of a folio of writing of approximately 2000 words (prose), or 200 lines of poetry, as well as a supplementary mark for attendance and class participation.