When we arrived in Seoul, my friends and I all went our separate ways for the night.  Sue Anne had a flight back to Vancouver the next day, Jamie went to stay with friends in  Itaewon, Paul took the subway to his hostel and I went back to James’ apartment in Incheon.  Jamie, Paul and I made plans to meet up with our friend Angelo, who lives in Seoul, the following morning at a coffee shop in Itaewon.

Itaewon is the most international neighborhood in Seoul, populated heavily with foreigners and American troops stationed at the nearby U.S. Army base.  Many foreign embassies are also located in the area, one of which I visited with Jamie the next day.  From Itaweon, Paul, Jamie, Angelo and I took a cab to Myeongdong, a popular shopping district with high-end boutiques and designer stores.  As we were walking down the street we ran into one of our fellow camp teachers, Heath.  He was waiting outside of a clothing store for our other co-worker, Ivana.  We went inside to surprise her and say hello before continuing on our way.

From Myeongdong we walked toward the Namdaemun market, stopping along the way to have a lunch of dumplings at a Chinese restaurant.  When we got to the market, the crowded, shop-lined streets were full of people.  There were definitely plenty of sights you would never see in the U.S., like the stands selling pig’s feet with decapitated pigs’ heads on the display case.  We stopped in a tea shop to buy tea and then Jamie bought a new pair of eyeglasses and Paul looked at digital cameras.

After browsing at the market for an hour or so, we headed to Insadong.  Insadong is an art and antique district with narrow streets and traditional shops in the center of Seoul.  Along the way we passed the modern glass-walled Millennium Plaza and the newly-revitalized Cheonggyecheon Stream.  When we got to Insadong, Angelo led us to an out-of-the way teahouse down a narrow, hidden alley where we drank tea and ate traditional Korean pastries.

Shortly afterwards we all parted ways, but later that night Paul and I met up with Angelo at the bar his Canadian friend owns in the Shinchon neighborhood.  We got a little lost looking for the place at first, but eventually found it on the street beyond the poster of Winnie the Pooh drinking soju that Angelo had described.  That’s right–a children’s book character drinking distilled liquor.  Only in Korea.

The next morning, Jamie, Paul and I reconvened at the same coffee shop in Itaewon along with another co-worker, Diane.  Jamie had to go to the Thai embassy in order to get a visa for her trip there.  Once again there were quite a few wrong turns trying to find the embassy, but we finally found it after walking down a steep hill next to a busy highway.  Of course, when we got there we were already too late for the office hours when one could apply for a visa.  Jamie ended up having to go back the following day.

For lunch we met up with Paul and Diane at a pub-style restaurant in Itaewon where we all ate Western food as an alternative to the low-end Korean cuisine we’d been force fed throughout camp.  After lunch, Jamie and Diane went to a bookstore, Paul left to meet a friend and I ventured off on my own.  I decided to go to the Gyeongbokgung Palace in northern Seoul.  Unfortunately, that day happened to be the one day that the palace was closed.  I walked around the ornate exterior of the 14th century building and then headed into the adjacent National Palace Museum as it started to rain.  I checked out the historic Korean scrolls, art and artifacts for a few hours until the museum closed.

In the evening I met back up with Paul for dinner.  We ended up at an Indian restaurant, continuing our trend of not eating Korean food since we had gotten back to Seoul.  After dinner, it was time to go to bed since we had to be up early the next morning for a tour to the demilitarized zone along the North Korean border.

05-23-09

Saturday

What a great day!  The weather was wonderful.  It’s getting really nice here.  Emi and I went to namdaemun market and then met Bo by City Hall.

Emi and I walked around and marveled (as I usual do) at the crazy wares available in Korea.  I found a few gifts for people and I bought Bo a Pez dispenser.  Pez was quite a treat when I was a kid.  I remember, Liz and I would ask quite often for Dad to bring home Pez from the store.  It was such fun loading the Pez and eating it out of a head.  And if that wasn’t good enough, the candy tastes delicious.  So, I wanted share a bit of my childhood with Bo.  I also tried, for the first time, chocolate covered sunflower seeds.  Yummers.  They were candy coated too, so think M&Ms the size of sunflower seeds.

After our time walking around Namdeamun and having a nice talk, it was time to meet Bo by City Hall.  We didn’t know it at the time but there was a problem around City Hall.  We got off the subway and on the way up the stairs we noticed that there were hundreds of people around the top of the stairs and the area around the subway entrance.  And about 2 dozen of them were policemen.

Both of us were a little bit nervous, as we had no idea what was going on.  Were we in danger?  Had we just avoided danger?  Is the city being invaded?  Were they looking for a Japanese woman and an American man exiting the subway?  We heard a woman crying very loudly but we couldn’t see her because of the wall of police and their intimidating riot gear.  I got on the phone to Bo to see where she was and to make sure she was okay.  A horrible image of her being on the other side of the wall of police went through my head.  Luckily I got her on the phone and she was just a few minutes walk away.  When she got to us, she explained that the expresident had killed himself the previous night.  Apparently, he had embezzled some money and felt guilty about what he had done, so he made the ultimate act of cowardice and killed himself.  Bo explained that he was so loved, even though he did some bad things.  You’d think that much love from a country would make a man second guess the decision to end it all.

After we met up with Bo we went to find a place to eat and luckily Bo knew this kind of secret place in that area of town.  It’s a place she used to go to when she worked for the city.  The restaurant was in a house and there were tables on the ground floor and the upstairs.  We ate upstairs, but had to walk through the kitchen to get there.  The food was delicious.  At this point, I can’t remember the name of what we ate (brain fart) but it’s a soup/stew with pork.  It’s spicy and delicious and you pick the meet off the bone and can eat it with rice if desired.

After dinner we indulged in the Cold Stone Creamery.  I’d been dreaming about cake batter ice cream for months and now was the time.  Of course there had been other opportunities, but they never seemed right until tonight.

After we were sated with dinner and dessert we went to see the hottest show in Korea: Nanta.  If you’re not up with the haps on Korea, Nanta is a musical show where they use cooking utensils as their instruments.  Needless to say, I had my doubts, but it turned out to be really good.  I laughed a lot and was thoroughly entertained the whole way through.  The performers really put a lot into the show and there were some funny bits.

After the show Emi went back to her hotel and I took Bo home.  Tired but happy from a very fun day.

P.S. Police in other countries are way more scary than in your own country.  I think it’s because I can’t talk to them and explain that I’m really a nice guy.

I’m at Namdaemun Market!

It is one of the largest markets in Seoul!

There’s everything here, I mean, literally, everything!

That must be why so many people visit here, including tourists.

Look at the delicious Mandu, a big dumpling.

People were waiting to buy in a row, so I couldn’t buy :(

I heard that the store was on TV for a few times. I wonder how delicious they’re!

This is a street that is famous for many delicious restaurants.

You can enjoy a number of Korean food here!

These foods are usually foods that are cheap and enjoyed by common people a lot.

Can you see the foreign words below Korean words? They’re for tourists who often come to Namdaemun market.

See, this accessory store is for a wholesale.

It means that you can buy them in cheaper price!

This is an imported goods corner.

They’re rarely seen in normal supermarkets in Seoul!

Every kind of sweets are there!

Now I’m looking at the picture, but I want to eat them right now:)

See how many kinds of goods are there? Literally, everything!

Toursits and foreigners enjoy the market, too.

It is an essential course for tourists who visit Seoul.

On the day I went, it was also crowded of tourists from everywhere.

Since you can buy various useful goods in cheap price here, backpackers, especially,visit the market.

It is always full of people, always full of liveliness!

Walking in crowds among shoutings of merchants in the air, it feels like I’m alive!

Be my guest, and feel vivacious air of Namdaemun Market!

As close to center of Seoul, Jongro, Namdaemun Market is changing a bit.

Tall buildings and Shopping malls are slowly pushing into and it is becoming more and more modernized.

Tip: I recommend you to have a bargain with the seller.

You can cut down the price a bit!

But, too much is not recommendable

Visit sites related to Namdaemun Market!

You can have far more information!

Map of Namdaemun Market: http://map.indm.net/

http://www.indm.net/main/main.php

In Korea, if you want the price lowered, you say “ga ga joosayo”. Hahaha. I think this is hilarious, and apparently so do some Koreans. The one time I used “ga ga joosayo” this past weekend at a jewelery store, the clerk flat-out laughed in my face. Then she called over the manager, repeated the phrase in a mocking tone, and he too laughed in my face. Did I just ask for a blow job? Only after the manager caught his breathe did he knock off 5000 KRW. Confused? Yeah me too.

Winter Coats for 4000 KRW at Nam Dae Mun Market

The madness of Nam Dae Mun street market

Navigating our way through the spaghetti pile of subway stops and transfer stations was much easier the second time. We sat next to a Korean teenager on our first train from the Express Bus Terminal to Sinseol-dong. He was noticeably red in the face and, as they say in New England, right fackin’ pie-eyed. He ran off the train at the next stop, and puked in a storm drain next to a very well-dressed Korean man violently kicking a vending machine. Nobody seemed to notice except for us.

We stayed at two hostels, one in Sinseol-dong called Backpackers Korea (or something very close to that) and another near Hongik University called Hongdae Guesthouse 2.0. Nicknamed the “Yellow Submarine”, the Hongdae Guesthouse is managed by a middle aged Korean man named Henry. He looks like John Lennon, really, he does. For anyone looking for a cheap hostel at a great location in Seoul, look no further than the Yellow Submarine; 17000 KRW a night to stay in a newly renovated town house (carved up like a frat house) just a 15 minute walk from the ridiculous night life near Hongik University. The employees speak English and are VERY hospitable. Please enjoy.

Technology capital of the world

Seoul Tower in the distance

Coming home from the 2009 Seoul Lantern Festival, we stopped at a bar called Texas, which oddly enough served mainly European beers — except for Sam Adams and Honey Brown. Don’t waste your time at this bar, unless you enjoy pissing your money away on skunk beer and second hand smoke. It was late, so we waved down a cab for a ride back to the hostel. Upon telling him were we were looking for the Yellow Submarine, he drove away immediately. Poor choice of words I think. No matter, the alley was awash with taxis. Another cab pulled up immediately, but when we tried to get in, the doors were locked. “Where are you going?” he said in perfect English. Hongik University Subway Station? “Yes I will take you there for 15,000 KRW.” The previous cab ride had cost half that amount. “We’ll just walk.” Confused, the cabbie rolled up his window and drove away. A third taxi driver pulled up… and the doors were not locked. As he raced us down the two four-lane road towards Hongik Station, he started frantically pushing he buttons on his GPS and made a few rather obscure left turns into alley ways and gas stations. It became clear to us that this cabbie did not know where he was going, or he was trying to rip us off by running up the meter. Either way, we wanted out. One of us said, “Yogeeyo”, which in Korean means “drop me off here asshole”. Lost somewhere in the general area of our hostel, there was only one solution; booze. Cackling like hyenas in front of a gas station as we ripped butts and mixed soju with beer, the Koreans passerby’s were magnificently unimpressed. It was then I said it; “I love this city.”

Follow the flashing lights

Namdaemun Market is another one of those places I’m certain my dad wouldn’t like.

Crowded, noisy and full of things you never knew you needed or wanted. Like jars and jars of ginseng root.

Or duct tape in every color.

As night falls, the streets become even more cramped as people set up “restaurants” with plastic tables and chairs under these clear tarps.

I bought a 19-inch Samsung Sens 25 Desktop Replacement Computer a few months ago in Seoul.  Samsung has labeled this computer a desktop replacement rather than a lap top because of its size and the lack of a battery.  A battery was deemed impractical for a computer of this size and I agree.  I have gone ahead and put a CD next to the screen to give the reader some idea of how big this computer is.  The computer is impressive.  When people walk into the office tel I live in Daejeon, the first thing they notice is the computer and always the comment is “The computer is so big!”  I thought it might be fun to take the behemoth to the local coffee house and hopefully get a little attention.  One of the waitresses is a real cutey pie!  So I started shopping for a computer bag.  Common sense suggested that the place I bought the computer would have a computer bag for the computer.  Nope!  I then checked out every electronic store in Daejeon where I live in Korea. 

The largest bag I could find in Daejeon was a 17-inch bag in Costco.  No luck in Daejeon!  But there’s all kinds of stuff you can’t get in Daejeon. 

1) No Mexican food in Daejeon. 

2) No Thai food in Daejeon. 

3) No D&D in Daejeon. 

4) No kung fu lessons in Daejeon or any sort of martial arts teacher within my neigborhood willing  to mess with someone that doesn’t know Korean.

5) No Buddhist temple, with services in English, in Daejeon. 

6) No international social club of any sort whatsoever in Daejeon. 

7) No American comic books in Daejeon, graphic novels actually. 

No Korean Times or Korea Herald or English daily newspaper of any sort.  If you put all the English books from all the bookstores in Daejeon together I doubt you would come up with 20 titles.  And I don’t mean English workbooks but stuff you would read for fun.

9) No CNN in Daejeon.  This is a new development.  The number of channels with some English programming was cut in half by the local cable company as a New Year’s Eve present from about ten channels to about five channels.  My Korean students didn’t notice at all.  The expats in Daejeon really noticed!

10) No cheap Western breakfast option within walking distance of my office tel!  The last one really hurts.

Despite having over a million people, Daejeon(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daejeon) lacks many things my home town of East Lansing, Michigan (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Lansing) in the US has with only 45,000 inhabitants!  East Lansing has several Mexican restaurants and at least two Thai restaurants that I know of.  East Lansing has at least three Buddhist temples that I know of.  You can have your Buddhism in English, Chinese (http://www.geocities.com/LansingBuddhist/) or Thai (http://www.thaiembdc.org/directry/wat_e.htm#MI).  There’s actually a mosque in East Lansing (http://www.lansingislam.com/contact.htm).  

There is only one mosque in all of South Korea and its in Seoul of course (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Islam_in_Korea).   

All types of kung fu are taught in East Lansing.  Including what I studied in Taiwan, Wing Chun (https://www.msu.edu/user/tomlins4/wingchun.htmMichigan).  Forget about continuing my Wing Chun studies in South Korea period much less Daejeon!   Michigan State University (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michigan_State_University), located in East Lansing, has several international student organizations.  For example there is an organization that caters to Brazilian students in particular and they have a Carnival party in East Lansing.  There are at least three comic book stores that I know of in East Lansing.  You can also get books in any number of foreign languages.  The Michigan State University library has books in languages like Urdu!  Satellite TV in the US is cheap and convenient and you can want to watch any type of international TV conceivable almost anywhere in the US.  I know a Japanese lady in San Antonio, Texas who has several Japanese channels and almost no US channels.  My aunt, who is originally from Peru, has about 20 Spanish channels and I only think she keeps some English channels for the grand kids.  

I think this comparison between Daejeon and East Lansing illustrates a key difference between a developed country like the US and a developing country like Korea.  Small cities in a developed country will have many international consumer options that are lacking in huge cities in a developing country.  Small cities in a devoloped country will have international consumer goods and services that even a capital city like Seoul will not!  The persons of a developing country will be oblivious to this difference since they compare themselves with third world countries rather than developed countries in a point by point manner.  The frog in the well thinks the well is the whole world!

Koreans themselves often classify their country as a developed country and I think this is a giant mistake!  As Wikipedia points out (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Developing_countries) South Korea is not a developed country but better classified as one of the Emerging Markets (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emerging_markets).  I also think emerging markets need to be much more careful than developed countries and not develop hubris (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hubris) which seems to be the case in Korea.  Koreans seem to be willing to sacrifice an FTA with the US for what seem to be trivial reasons (http://benmuse.typepad.com/koreaus_fta/2008/06/new-delay-on-beef-imports.html).  If Koreans do not import US beef then there probably will not be an FTA between the US and Korea.  The US has bent over backwards to assure Koreans they will get the best beef possible and take every precaution against mad cow disease.  The chances of contracting mad cow disease from US beef is on the order of being struck by an asteroid.  Koreans regularily smoke and drink and have the highest cause of stomach cancer in the world (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stomach_cancer) and no one in Korea could care less.  In other words, these are not a particularily health conscious people.

I noticed the same difference between a developed country and a developing country when I recently visited Fukuoka (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fukuoka%2C_Fukuoka) in Japan.  Japan is a developed country.  Fukuoka is bigger than Dajeon so perhaps the comparison is unfair but the international consumer options in Fukuoka are much, much broader than in Daejeon.  Consumer globalization is much more intense in developed countries than developing countries like Korea and this may not be obvious until you live in a developing country.  So not finding a computer bag for the behemoth in Daejeon didn’t surprise me at all.  So I went to Seoul. 

I checked out the COEX Mall (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coex_mall).  One store had a huge variety of computer bags but the largest one was a 17-inch bag.  I then checked out Yongsan Electronics Arcade (http://www.visitseoul.net/jsp/english/buy/shop_02_02.jsp?template_id=146&info_id=4020000033&onloadset1_num=2&onloadset2_num=21), the largest electronic market in Seoul and actually gigantic.  5,000 shops but no luck!  One thing I have noticed in Seoul, the larger markets like Yongsan, Dongdaemun (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dongdaemun_Market) and Namdaemun (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namdaemun_Market) have tons and tons of stores but they all sell the same things for more or less the same price.  I have lived in Taipei for seven years and much smaller markets in Taipei will in fact have more consumer options.  The area around Taipei Station has all sorts of nooks and crannies where stuff you didn’t even know existed is sold.  I would say the variety of consumer goods in and around Taipei Station is much greater than Dongdaemun and Namdaemun put together despite the fact that each of these Korean markets alone is in fact much larger than the market place area around Taipei Station.  I got online and found there is a US based online store that does offer the bag but does not deliver to Korea where the computers are made.  Talk about irony! 

The bag looks pretty cool and wish I could buy it in Korea!

http://www.ebags.com/travelers_choice/dual_compartment_19_inch_computer_messenger_bag/product_detail/index.cfm?modelid=115133

I think my experience is illustrative of a larger observation I have of Korea from a consumer point of view.  Samsung is into housing, fashion, you name it but they don’t make a computer bag for their core product, computers.  Companies in other countries focus on their core products.  Can you imagine Hewlet Packard running an apartment complex or selling suits?  Can you also imagine Hewlet Packard creating a computer but forgetting to make a computer bag to go with the computer?  There is another giant conglomerate in Korea called Lotte that does the same thing as Samsung.  Lotte runs everything from malls to hamburger joints and also runs apartment complexes just like Samsung. 

There is vertical integration at the expense of horizontal invention.  Secondly, there is an illusion of consumer choice in Korea that upon closer examination is false.  There is size without variety.  There is no sense in the Korean business psyche that you can make more money by selling something no one else sells rather than selling something everyone sells.  Koreans prefer copying to invention.

There are two giant hypermart chains in Korea: Homever (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homever) and E-mart (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E-mart) but they basically sell the same stuff.  The hypermarts are huge but the international section is in fact much smaller than what you would find in a medium sized store in any number of other Asian countries such as Thailand and Taiwan much less Japan.  For example, you can’t get canned beans in either chain.  There is a rumor that E-Mart is slightly cheaper but this is debated among Koreans. 

There is no attempt by the two hypermart chains to carve out a niche market.  This would be the equivalent of Walmart and Target being almost identical in price and goods offered.  Target is up market compared to Walmart but there is no such differentiation in the Korean retail market.  This is something long time expats to Korea express over and over again in many different ways.  You can get also get a lot of international stuff in other Asian cities such as Bangkok, Hong Kong, Shanghai and even Taipei that are not available in Seoul much less smaller cities in Korea.  Koreans that have not lived abroad have a very hard time understanding what the expats in Korea are talking about.  Koreans who have lived abroad get it.  One saying you do hear over and over again among expats in Korea is “Korea is very Korean”.

More photos at:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=31162&l=ee670&id=521247529

Our day started out with a ride on the subway and this fantastic t-shirt:

That got us smiling, and it only got better from there.

The night before, S. suggested we spend some time outside of the city. When I told her that I really enjoyed Jogyesa, she said that the temples in the parks and mountains would probably be even more lovely. When we first planned our trip, we intended to spend at least one day hiking…perhaps with a daytrip outside Seoul, or in Seoul’s (very large) Bukhansan National Park.

As the week went on, though, we started filling up the days with appointments and meetings related to K. Taking a five-hour hike, complete with travel time to and from a park, didn’t fit in anywhere. We’d already used our open day for the DMZ tour. So we took S.’s suggestion, and looked around at the local mountain parks (there are several of them right inside Seoul…it’s amazing…one minute you’re surrounded by skyscrapers, the next minute you’re climbing a forested mountain). We looked at the possible choices, and chose Inwangsan. It has Buddhist and Shamanist shrines, unusual rock formations, and is the mountain backdrop to both the royal palaces and the president’s residence.

First, though, another important appointment.

When we were still deciding to adopt, and where to adopt from, I read a book that changed a lot of my perspectives about adoption, adoption from South Korea, and especially the relationships in the adoption triad: birth parents (also called first parents), adopted children, and adoptive parents. The book is called I Wish For You a Beautiful Life: Letters from the Korean Birth Mothers of Ae Ran Won to Their Children. The letters were collected by Mrs. Han Sang-soon, the director of Ae Ran Won (a home for unwed mothers).

Mrs. Han has spoken around the world on behalf of unwed mothers, and for years she has advocated for unwed mothers and birth mothers in Korea…working to improve their rights, their opportunities, and also working to promote understanding of how and why women are faced with the unbearable choices leading to adoption. I admire her very much. Because of her, and her book, so much of what I believed I knew about adoption has changed. It’s very difficult to understand the choices first mothers make when they choose not to raise their children, but through her book you get some understanding of their lives, the heartache of their situations, the love they have for their children.

Mrs. Han in front of Ae Ran Won:

From her introduction to I Wish For You a Beautiful Life:

In Korea, there is much misunderstanding of birth mothers, as well as prejudice against them. They are often criticized for not showing responsibility for their babies and for being concerned only about their well-being. It is thought that most of them are only interested in hiding their pregnancies, and that they go into the hospital to give birth with great fear.

Some people look with contempt on those birth mothers who agree to send their babies away after a short counseling session with social workers from an adoption agency. These mothers often appear to be apathetic, almost numb, and they remain aloof from their problems, even denying them. Some young women just disappear from the hospital and, in some cases, if they can’t find any help, they abandon their babies in the street, hoping that someone will find them and take care of them.

I would like to emphasize that such behavior by birth mothers is a sign of even deeper conflicts than those of the young women who agonize about placing their babies for adoption. I believe that such behavior is defensive, and is the result of the scars and pain of the negative experiences in their lives, their unexpected pregnancies, and the shock of giving birth without any preparation. These feelings eventually lead them to think that they are helpless and alone.

Furthermore, it is extremely difficult for the mothers to make proper judgments or display sensible behavior when they are numb. That numbness is brought about by the shock and unforgettable sadness they experience. Along with this, I understand that it might be natural for the birth mothers to try to hide from the disapproving stares of society. I think their inability to cope and their subsequent desire to escape reality are the same as that of anyone who has to face an unbearable situation.

I wonder how they feel deep inside when the cold stares have faded away and the incident is all but forgotten by others. It is then that the wounds and suppressed emotions of grief, guilt, and yearning surface again. It is precisely these feelings, if not treated properly, that cause much harm in their lives. On the other hand, if these feelings are treated properly and the mothers recover, I believe that they will be able to come out into the light from the darkness and make a new start.

We find that a helpful part of recovery is for each birth mother to express her feelings in the form of a letter to her child. It is my great pleasure to select some of these letters from our files at Ae Ran Won in order to share them with adopted children and their families. My staff and I hope that people who read these letters will better understand birth mothers, and we are honored that the profits from this book will benefit our work at ARW. It is fitting that the stories courageously told by some birth mothers will help other women on their journeys.

Through this book I have wanted to share a clear picture of the reality of unwed mothers and the indescribable pain that they undergo when they send their babies away for adoption. Furthermore, I would like to deepen the understanding of adopted children who grow up in foreign countries and in cultures different from Korea. I would like as best as I can to help them answer the nagging question of “why.” In doing so, I hope that their feelings of rejection will begin to heal.

The book:

When I knew we’d be traveling to Seoul, I emailed Mrs. Han and asked if we could visit Ae Ran Won. I had heard she was welcoming of visitors, but I never expected the warmth and generosity of her invitation. She asked me to call and arrange a visit time once we were in Seoul, and after a few days of phone tag I was able to make an appointment for the morning of our sixth day.

We arrived that morning, and we were invited for tea in Mrs. Han’s office. I had imagined a brief introduction and a tour, but instead we sat down for a long conversation. She told us about the work being done at Ae Ran Won, and about all the programs they’ve created to assist unwed mothers. When she started as the director of Ae Ran Won, less than 20 years ago, 80% of women chose adoption and 20% chose to raise their children. Now, with the support of ARW, 81% of mothers are choosing to raise their children. Given the long history of Korea’s disapproval of and discrimination against unwed mothers, that is an amazing accomplishment.

The entryway to ARW:

The painting in the entryway:

ARW doesn’t just provide a home for women facing a crisis pregnancy. They provide individual and group counseling, job training, and tutoring to attain at least a high school diploma. After their babies are born, whether or not they choose to parent, mothers stay at the home for 100 days of counseling, job training, and help planning their futures.

The computer training lab:

After that time, mothers are able to live in a group home for one year, plus six months more if needed, to complete their job training and diploma. Mothers get assistance with finding a job and a place to live.

Many mothers have difficulty supporting themselves and a baby on their own, especially since rent in Seoul is so high and many of these mothers don’t have enough savings to pay for rent while they get on their feet. With that in mind, a new branch of ARW is opening this summer. It’s a self-supported group home with subsidized rent for one year. The mothers pay their own living expenses, but save the rest of their wages for their future independent living.

Also, while mothers are working full time, they have access to ARW’s “Happy Mothers” program. The HM program connects moms with emergency daycare or crisis care, in case a work or job emergency occurs and they, as single parents, don’t have the support they need to care for their child.

Isn’t that an incredible program? Mrs. Han is a gentle, distinguished, incredibly graceful woman, and she speaks with equal grace. Still, even she couldn’t disguise the disappointment she feels for what the government of South Korea has done for unwed mothers. She spoke about how the birth rate of South Korea is around 1.1%, and that most people feel it should be higher, that more people should be having babies. Still, there is no support for unwed mothers to keep their children, because people believe it will bring too much trouble for the society’s future. The government does little or nothing to assist single moms, so ARW fundraises on their own.

(By the way, if you’d like to donate to ARW you can do so directly from their website or through this fund to support unwed mothers in South Korea.)

I kept thinking we were keeping Mrs. Han too long (she’s such a busy woman!), but she assured us we could stay and talk as long as we liked. When it came time to take a tour, she showed us around herself. We met several of the women staying at ARW, and their adorable children, but out of respect for their privacy I didn’t take any photos with people or babies in them. These photos make ARW look somewhat empty and dark, but it’s not…it’s just that I couldn’t take photos where people were gathered, and most people were gathered in sunny, open rooms.

The dining room:

Going upstairs (there are two upstairs floors) with Mrs. Han:

The new nursery room (the number of mothers choosing to raise their children is so high now that they’ve had to rearrange the floors and rooms of ARW to accommodate more children. This room was almost ready.):

Bathrooms:

One of the dorm-like rooms for the residents of ARW:

Inside one of the rooms (there is no bed because sleeping mats are often used in Korea. During the day they are folded or rolled away):

Laundry room on the roof:

Looking into the nursery area:

Leaving Ae Ran Won:

I’m so glad we spent that time at Ae Ran Won. We’ve both done a lot of reading about adoption…I think our ideas and assumptions about almost everything have changed over time, but visiting Ae Ran Won made first moms very real to us, made K’s first mom very real to us. It also made us even more committed to supporting Ae Ran Won, and working for equal rights for unwed mothers in South Korea and the world. We’re adopting a child, yes, but we believe that first families should stay together whenever it’s possible. Certainly we can work toward a world when what keeps children and parents apart isn’t discrimination, denial of resources, or desperation. Mrs. Han has shown that, with access to support and resources, most mothers feel they can choose to raise their children.

On the way home, another subway station:

And the yellow rubberized path (I like to think of it as Seoul’s yellow brick road) you see everywhere around Seoul…on the sidewalks, in the subways… What is its purpose, do you think?

Back in our hotel lobby, I waited for D to get the rest of our currency out of the safe (the people at the front desk were so helpful…we must have accessed that safe every day at least!).

We were on our way to pick up K’s name stamp from the stone cutting artist, and we had plans for a date night later on…time to exchange more money! Around the corner from Hotel the Sun Bee is an Insadong visitors information center, and from there we were told we could exchange money at the Korea Exchange bank…which is right next to our hotel (duh! on our part).

While D exchanged money, I had fun looking for the differences in a Korean bank versus our banks. 1) the number of flat screen televisions and 2) red ink for name stamps. Instead of signing their names, many Koreans follow the traditional practice of using a their name stamp (dojong) on important documents, bank forms, and artwork.

Before we came to Seoul, we were given a special gift from our friends Marilyn and John. They asked us to use it toward a something special for K. At first we thought the perfect gift would be an antique wooden box to keep her little treasures, but after a while that didn’t seem possible (see Day Four). Then the day before, we walked past the window of this stone cutting artist, and it clicked…what about a name stamp? We knew we wanted one for her eventually, and it would be so much nicer to get one here rather than order it online or send for it.

The artist who designed our stamp was really kind. When we arrived to pick up the stamp, we were surprised to see he’d added some of his own artwork to the body of the stamp…a carving of a father, a daughter, and a mother under a shining sun. He couldn’t have known, but K’s English name translates to “shining sun.”

He asked if we knew how to do use the stamp properly, and when we said no he gave us a covered porcelain bowl of red ink (it’s strange stuff…sticky, and a little more solid than honey). Then he showed us how to do it. You dab the stamp in the ink many times, quickly and lightly, to fill up the stamp without getting too much ink on it.

Then you position it over the paper, and press down firmly…hesitating just a little while to let the ink stick to the paper.

This is his card, so if anyone reading this blog happens to be in Insadong you can look him up:

D in his shop:

Thank you, Marilyn and John. It’s the perfect gift, and without you we wouldn’t have thought to have it made.

Walking back through Insadong, this is a very typical sight…walls of gallery and exhibit posters:

It was time for lunch, and we were in Insadong, so that meant I’d finally have a chance to try Sadong Myeonok’s beoseot jeongol (a recipe here). Yum!

The restaurant entrance, with ajummas busy making dumplings (mandu):

The menu at Sadong Myeonok (click to enlarge):

A couple of Korean cokes:

Beoseot jeongol, cooked at our table (I had no idea this is what it would be like, but hey!):

Closeup of the egg in the onion flower:

Cooking (we weren’t sure when to stir it, but one of the restaurant ladies came by and gave it a good mixing at the appropriate time):

Beoseot jeongol, complete:

Noodles, several varieties of mushrooms, a little thinly-sliced beef, a little egg, some veggies, and a few herbs in a spicy sauce…YUM. D had some rice with it, but I preferred to eat it as-is.

The side dishes/banchan (jap chae in front, chinese cabage kimchi (baechu-kimchi) behind it, and diced radish kimchi (kkakdugi) way in back):

Whatever this side dish was, it was pretty good…kinda meaty and chewy:

Walking out of the restaurant, we went into one of Insadong’s many stamp and brush shops. There were stacks of old name stamps along one wall (some with Hanja, Chinese characters, and some with Hangul, Korean characters):

The brush shop had more kinds of brushes than I ever knew existed. Check out that enormous one on the left!

After lunch we headed back to the subway and toward Inwangsan. We didn’t have any hiking directions or map other than what was in the Lonely Planet Guide (LP), so we were hoping the directions LP gave would be accurate. Thankfully, they were!

To get to Inwangsan, take subway line 3 to Dongnimmun station (map here), exit 2. Turn left down a small alley (there’s really only one that looks alley-ish), then walk uphill past shops, apartment buildings, and a golf driving range for 10 or 15 minutes. The walk is steep. And it only gets steeper.

Dyed fabrics and lace hung out to dry in the alley:

They warn you it’s steep, and they aren’t kidding:

We got stuck in one dead end, but someone walked by eventually and helped point out the right way. The entrance to Inwangsan isn’t that far from the subway, so it’s harder to get lost than you might think. Walk up a steep steep hill, turn a corner, and this greets you (this photo is looking back at it):

More detail:

Inwangsan, as I mentioned before, has a lot of history and cultural significance. Changdeokgung and Gyeongbokgung Palaces, from which Korea was ruled for centuries, were built at the base of the mountain. Today, the Korean President’s residence (like our White House, but called Cheong Wa Dae or Blue House) is also at the base of the mountain. On the mountain itself are several important sights, including Seoul’s most famous Shamanist shrine, Buddhist temples, and part of the old Seoul fortress wall.

Back in the Joseon era, I read somewhere, the mountain was known as “white tiger mountain” because of the number of tigers living there. I can understand why…it’s forested, difficult to climb in places, and the rock formations seem like they’d have a lot of caves and hidden dens.

The hike is all uphill, but it’s not too bad after the initial stretch. There’s a small mountainside village beyond the gate, and if you walk up and to the left you go past a few gates, entryways, and enclosed yards:

Up above, you can see a pavilion and bell, belonging to the Bongwonsa Buddhist temple, the largest of the Buddhist temples on the mountain:

The bell:

Detail of the bell pavilion:

The gate to Bongwonsa. According to LP, the paintings on the doors “depict the guardian kings of heaven who protect Buddhists from evil and harm.”

Closeup of one of them:

Bongwonsa was closed and we couldnt’ see much of the building from the outside, so we turned around and went back up the hill toward Guksadang, the shamanist shrine:

From the plaque:

This building is a shamanic shrine that houses the spirits of Joseon founder Yi Seonggye (King Taejo) and various guardian generals. It as built in 1395 on Namsan and was called Mongmyeoksinsa. Guksadang was located on the site of the Namsan octagonal pavilion up until 1925, when the Japanese built the shrine Joseonsingung on the site. The shrine was moved halfway up Inwangsan in July of that year[according to LP, Guksadang was demolished by the Japanese, then rebuilt secretly on Inwangsan by Korean shamanists].

Even today shamans perform rituals for invoking spirits, for healing, for good fortune, and for praying for the spirits of the dead. Nearby Guksadang is the Seonbawi, called Gijaam, and several small temples, which are helpful in the study of shamanistic beliefs in Seoul. Within Guksadang are various paintings of shamanic gods, which are collectively designated Important Folklore Material Number 17.

For more information on Korean shamanism (muism) or the role played by shaman (mudang), the Wikipedia site is a good quick read. It’s interesting that Korean shaman are usually female.

In the courtyard in front of Guksadang, there was a statue and an area for candles and offerings for spirits (from LP “For shamanists death does not end relationships, they simply take another form. Shamanists believe that the dead still need food and drink):

A man praying in front of Guksadang:

…I should mention here that taking photos around Inwangsan isn’t always possible or appropriate. There were places where people were conducting ceremonies or setting up for prayer where photos would have been really rude. As it was, there were several times when I used my small camera (set on silent) to snap a quick photo of people when I thought they wouldn’t notice or be disturbed. In addition to reasons of prayer or worship, I was told that some areas of Inwangsan are off limits for photos because of the overlook to the president’s residence (though we didn’t encounter any of those areas).

From Guksadang, we climbed steep steps to a couple of large, eroded rocks called Seonbawi (Zen rocks). The rocks are so eroded they look like two robed monks, and there is a platform and altar in front of them where people come to pray…supposedly women come there to pray for a son, and because of that the rocks are sometimes called “Gijaam,” or “rock where one wishes for a child.”

From the plaque:

“This rock is called Seonbawi (zen rock) because it looks like a robed Buddhist monk. It is also called the “Rock of Preying for a Son” as many women who wanted to bear sons came here to prey. This rock is said by some to resemble the likeness of King Taejo, Joseon’s founder and first King and the Great Monk Muhak daesa and by other the likeness of King Taejo and his wife.

Beliefs concerning Seonbawi became more closley linked to folk beliefs after the Japanese Empire moved Guksadang , which had been at Namsan next to Seonbawi. Guksandang was a shrine to a Shamanic god and the place where shamanic rites were held. As a result Seonbawi became connected with these shamanic beliefs.

These is an interesting story about the time when the city wall of Hanyang (Seoul) was being built. It is said that Muhak daesa wanted Seonbawi to be within the city walls , but Jeong Dojeon wanted the rock located outside the walls. Jeong Dojeon said: “If Seonbawi is within the wall Buddhism will flourish; if it is without Confucianism will flourish.” Taejo followed Jeong Dejon’s advice , an Muhak daesa sighed: “From now on the monks will be following the Confucian scholars around carrying their packages of book for them.” The story tells us that Seonbawi attracted attention from the early Joseon era as a striking feature of Inwangsan.”

We climbed up above Seonbawi, over areas of enormous eroded rocks and striking pines:

Up, up, up, until eventually you reach a steep outcropping of rock with only a few tiny steps to keep you on the path:

Step too far out and a nasty fall awaits. There was a sweeping view of Seoul, but 1) D gets nervous when I get too close to deadly falls and 2) a young woman was setting up for prayer to our right and we didn’t want to get too close. This will have to do (the mist was from the heat and humidity…it was a really warm day):

Above us was the peak of Inwangsan, which we thought looked like a man sitting cross-legged, looking out over Seoul. It’s a very distinctive mountain peak, and we could see it when we toured the palaces:

At the top of that long climb it levels out a little, so we stopped for water and a quick photo:

As we walked toward the peak and away from the rock outcrop, we passed a couple of magpie nests. I loved being outdoors again…smelling the forest, hearing the birds and insects, and especially watching the magpies. They were so rowdy, and seemed so happy flying between trees and temples, soaring around the edges of the mountain. They’re interesting, enjoyable birds:

From up so high, there were several lovely views. The rocks across the mountain:

A restored section of Seoul’s fortress wall:

We started climbing down toward a small steep valley cut by natural springs and streams. It was damp in that lovely forested way, and along the path were several outdoor Buddhist prayer sites. A little Buddha statue in an eroded crevice:

Further down, Buddha carved into the rock face:

Closer:

Behind it, a small, covered, natural spring for drinking:

A short climb above the carved Buddha, there was writing, many burned candles, and a mat for prayer:

We walked down, and bumped into what must have been a park guard…he was the first person we’d seen on Inwangsan who wasn’t there for prayer. He directed us along this forested path:

We passed through an area where people were praying and engaged in ceremonies. We heard drumming and chanting, passed a couple of tents where people seemed to be living next to a shrine, and quickly walked past a few areas where people were setting out offerings or praying. Only once we were past it all did I take this photo:

I’m not sure if the pile of stones is a seonangdang, or prayer rocks, or if the two are one and the same. I’ve seen pictures of other stone piles, and this one was much smaller than the others I’ve seen. From An Illustrated Guide to Korean Culture (2002): A seonangdang is a pile of stones placed at the edge of a village or at a mountain pass or along the road for a religious purpose. The pile of stones itself is an object of worship symbolizing the body of a god. There is rarely just a seonangdang, but usually there is in addition a shrine shaped like a small house, which is sacred to an old tree or god. In this case, the pile of stones, being constructed very high like a grave mound, is frequently called a stone grave. As they pass, people throw a stone on the pile or spit, praying for what they desire.

We reached a dead end at the Seoul fortress wall (being renovated), and could go either uphill or downhill:

There we bumped into the only other hikers we saw that day…two women from France. They said the path to the peak of the mountain was closed, and that they’d been turned back by soldiers. As they walked down the mountain, we stopped a while to look out over the fortress wall and Seoul. A man sitting below us seemed to be doing the same:

Beautiful pines and rocks:

A view of Seoul and some of the strange eroded rocks:

Another view of Seoul’s ancient wall:

Colorful pieces of cloth tied to a tree…one of our books about Korea says these ribbons are tied to a sinsu or dangnamu (a divine tree) by parents hoping for their children’s long lives or merchants seeking prosperity:

Looking back to where we’d climbed the rock face:

Eroded rocks (and some sun!):

The Korean magpie Pica (pica) sericea:

The same guy flying away:

Climbing back down toward the stream, we turned a corner and this greeted us:

An outdoor exercise area! What a great idea… D couldn’t wait to try it out:

This thing was cool. You stood on the disk, held on with your arms, and then twisted back and forth on the spinning disk. It’s more tiring that you’d guess…it works muscles you didn’t know you had:

D was trying out all the equipment, my eye was drawn to a tumbling coreopsis (I think?) and lots of happy bees:

That’s just about everything we saw at Inwangsan. Next time I’d like to climb to the top for the view. On the way down the mountain we took a different path…over to the left of the Buddhist temple. We passed over pretty little springs and walked through lush green forest:

When we reached a clearing we could see Bongwonsa from the opposite side, with the Seonbawi in the background.

At the end of the trail, the entrance gate:

If we’d had more time that day, we could have seen Seodaemun Prison (the prison where independence fighters were jailed an tortured during the Japanese occupation). It’s on the other side of the main road near the subway.

We walked back to the subway (downhill this time…nice), and made our way toward Namdaemun market. The night before most of the shops had been closed, and I still wanted to find a special hanbok for K’s Tol (first birthday celebration). D’s main goal for the market was to find and buy a few of the t-shirts we like so much. We’d tried shops and street vendors around Seoul, even E-Mart, but we hadn’t had much luck finding the stellar t-shirts he wanted. Surely they’d have them at Namdaemun…

Wow. Namdaemun during the day…that is one BUSY place:

It’s also fantastic for people-watching and photo-taking, and while D looked through the collections of various t-shirt vendors, I kept my camera busy. A fresh seafood stand:

Pink sparkly ties and pink shirts (pink is a happy color in Korea, not a girly color…a very large percentage of the businessmen we saw were wearing very pink ties, and many of those ties had little sparkles on them. I begged D to get a couple for work, but he wouldn’t.):

Ajumma frenzy (this was an awesome sight….there was a pile of shirts and skirts on the back of this cart, all tossed together, and the same group of 10 or so ajummas gathered around it grabbing, tossing, and digging through the pile. Each of them was grabbing and looking at 8-10 shirts a minute, and they were so determined, so forceful, in their browsing that no one else stepped up to see what was for sale. I wouldn’t mess with them, would you?):

Typical market scene:

Food + clothing vendors = just enough walking space:

If you’re at Namdaemun and looking for a hanbok (any size, male or female), look for this sign and building:

Building C, 3rd floor. We rushed in just as they were closing, and thankfully one of the ladies who sells hanboks was still there. She showed us several lovely hanboks, in materials that were much nicer than the stores and stalls along most of the Namdaemun streets. We saw even nicer ones in some of the shops in Insadong and Bukchon, but for $60 or so you can buy a very nice hanbok at C3. We bought two…one for K on her first birthday, and one for when she’s three or four and wants to play dress up.

Hanbok mission completed, we could finally dedicate ourselves wholly to finding D’s t-shirts. It took a lot of digging, especially since finding men’s XL shirts isn’t very easy in Seoul, but we found two.

Shirt one has a can of paint on it and reads:

7thannual Armadillo Christmas

Tru-test Suprem! Quality Paints

This Tin Santamonica You Beer Original

[upsidedown:] Vendorsbazmr

Shirt two has a graphic image of an old aviators mask and reads:

Simple childhood games

My Toy star booting

If the computer is where it should be, the call is simply log

ged. But if the computer has been reported stolen

When we were looking, we saw this one:

(There were other really good ones, but the vendors said no to my photo requests.)

After he had his t-shirts, we were free to wander a little. Namdaemun has a information station, and the lady there gave us a map. It’s too big for me to scan and share all of it, but here’s some (click to enlarge):

The alleys intrigued me…”Boiled fish alley”…”Beddings Alley”…”Alley for soldiers or appliances”…”Food Vendor alley”…”Leisure/climbing wear alley”…”Noodles Alley”…they all sounded interesting. I had also wanted to see the spices and grocery areas, but they were like the rest of the main buildings (1 through 7 and C through G)…most of them closed at 5pm or so.

We headed toward boiled fish alley:

Around the corner was a vendor selling red peppers, and he had the cutest little kitten as company:

The back alley of restaurant alley (very narrow and steamy, with access to a few restaurants but mainly the kitchens and dishwashing rooms):

Restaurant alley by day:

Back out on the main street, one of the many, many evening outdoor restaurants:

We had our hanboks. We had our t-shirts. We really enjoyed Namdaemun market. It was time to find dinner. A couple of days ago we’d tried LP’s suggestion for bulgoki over wood charcoal, but the restaurant had closed. Tonight we thought we’d try Frommer’s suggestion…a restaurant near City Hall called Chamsutgol.

This was officially our “date night,” though as parents of young children that idea was a little laughable to us. When you’re used to having, at best, one date night a month, an entire week of kids-free time feels like the best, the happiest, the most wonderful date you’ve ever been on. This, though, was a date night among date nights. Dinner, a cable car ride up Namsan mountain, and a view of Seoul at night.

First we had to find our restaurant. The guidebooks tend to give you a subway stop and a vicinity, but they’re not so great with detailed directions. In this case, the directions for Chamsutgol were really lacking. We left the subway and found ourselves nowhere near restaurants. Instead, we were at City Hall. US beef protest time!

The building had barricades up, which people were covering with hand-written notes, and the plaza was slowly filling up with protesters. There was a giant stage set up with bands playing, tables handing out protest signs, buttons, and t-shirts, and there were candles everywhere. It was busy, but it wasn’t tense. It seemed like a fun and interesting place to be.

Before we left (ironically, for a meal of beef), I took some of the protest signs and stickers:

…I wish I would have taken a picture of the candle girl image (on t-shirts, protest signs, etc.). She was an image we saw all over Seoul that week…a symbol of protest against US beef imports. This isn’t my photo, but it’s the best I could find of candle girl:

(photo courtesy of Wikipedia Commons)

We passed Seoul’s Press Center on the way to our restaurant (we got directions from a few people passing buy…if you ask enough people, and pronouce your destination a few different ways, you’ll get there eventually).

The Press Center has daily newspapers posted in glass cases outside its building, and that night there were men standing to read:

A couple of young women were kind enough to walk us the final two blocks to our restaurant:

Supposedly Chamsutgol serves some of the best bulgoki and galbi, fired over wood charcoal (not just gas burners). When we sat down, a man brought a glowing bowl of charcoal to our table and set it down with very heavy tongs. The restaurant was so orange, and the coals so hot, I think my camera had a difficult time registering the right colors:

Side dishes and ingredients were brought to the table, and so was the raw marinated beef. A woman pulled down a retractable vent from the ceiling and started grilling the beef for us.

She used tongs and kitchen shears, and after a few minutes the beef was perfectly done…it was so tender, with a little bit of crisp to it. She moved the beef to the side of the grate, pushed the vent back to the ceiling, and left us to figure things out on our own.

We didn’t do very well.

In no time at all she was back, showing us how to stack the beef, the red pepper paste, the kimchi, the garlic, and the green onion salad on lettuce or sesame leaves, wrap it into a large bundle, and shove it (all in one bite) into our mouths. We felt a little like chipmunks, but oh was it delicious. You can see a video of how to eat it here.

(Later on, D decided he wanted his beef a little crispier, so he pushed it from the edge of the grate back over the hot coals. The lady spotted us out of the corner of her eye and was back at our table in a flash. Apparently double-grilling the wasn’t allowed.)

We also had our first try of Soju that night, a vodka-like beverage unique to Korea. It’s cheap, it’s sold in beer-sized bottles, and at 20% alcohol it’ll get you drunk fast. Well…we’re not much for drinking, so it’s no surprise that we didn’t like soju (my cheeks flushed a royal red after just a few sips). Still, we tried it.

Chamsutgol was just as Frommer’s described…it’s a little short on atmosphere, but when the food is that good who needs atmosphere? I’m glad we went.

It was pretty late by the time we left Chamsutgol, and we were worried about having enough time to see Namsan (Seoul) Tower.  Spending time on the metro didn’t seem like a good idea, so we hired a taxi. We should have been doing a lot more of that. The regular taxis (not the black upscale ones) only charge around $2 for quick rides around Seoul, and most of the drivers we encountered spoke enough English to help us communicate where we wanted to go. They’re fast, easy, and cheap…next time (especially with the kids), we’ll be taking a lot more taxis.

The taxi zoomed up Namsan and dropped us off at the cable car building. We bought tickets, climbed the stairs, and waited for our cable car. There were several other couples like us, plus groups of young people. We all crowded into the car and made our way up toward Seoul Tower, which at night is very bright and very colorful:

(That’s the best I could do on a swaying cable car!) My favorite part of the ride was looking down. The cable car runs just a few feet above the tree canopy, and it felt like we were floating over the forest at night. Even in the crowded cable car, it was a dreamy sensation.

Namsan is a fun place to be at night. There were young people, couples of all ages, and kids everywhere, and everyone was smiling and having a good time. As with the rest of Seoul, there’s a lot of public art. While we were visiting, there were several wire men suspended on wires and lit up with spotlights:

We bought our tickets and took the very futuristic elevator up to the observation deck….a round room completely surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. Each window has writing on it, telling you how far away you are from the other major cities of the world. Chicago? 10,525.62 km. San Francisco? 9,040.09 km. There were also pictures of Seoul from the past century, and given South Korea’s lightning-fast development since the war, it was fascinating to see what a difference 40, 20, or even 15 years made.

The observation level:

The distance markers and old photos:

Seeing the city clearly was a bit of a challenge (hand prints and glaring lights on the windows), but I did my best. Downtown Seoul at night:

Looking south, bridges over the Han River:

Looking up into the mirrored ceiling:

Unfortunately we forgot to check out the Seoul Tower bathrooms, which I’ve heard described as the most amazing bathrooms in the world (for the view, at least). You can see the men’s bathroom here.

We took the elevator back down to ground level, and I think the lower open air observatory was nicer at night. There was a full moon over Seoul:

The full moon and some of the padlocks I mentioned on Day Two:

A container to leave padlock keys (???? I’d love to know the story or process behind that!):

From the lower observation deck:

Another wire man:

We walked back out toward the pavilion, and the tower was lit up in purple lights:

All of a sudden, classical music started playing loudly, and jets of mist came up from the paved courtyard. Before we knew it, the trees and courtyard were lit up with lasers. They flew over the trees and around the plaza…turning from flowers to stars to circles.

Children went wild with delight, and ran around trying to stand in moving pools of color, shapes, and mist. What a happy stroke of luck, to be here just at this time! The adults all stood, frozen in place, with huge smiles on their faces (us included).

It was almost closing time for the cable cars, so after the laser show we left Seoul Tower and rode back down the mountain, floating over the trees. Cabs were difficult to come by at closing time. After a short wait, we decided to walk down the road into the city. Eventually we found a parked cab (the driver was taking a break), and he said he’d give us a ride back downtown.

This was our landmark building, Jongno Tower (our hotel was just around the corner):

I should have taken a better picture of it while we were there, but thankfully P. just posted this on his website…a much better picture of Jongno Tower.

That was the end of our evening. Home sweet home at Hotel the Sun Bee.

I wrote several articles recently for a KTO shopping series. The first was for Myeongdong, the second for Itaewon, the third for Namdaemun, and the fourth for Apgujeong. Frankly, I think the one I did last year for Seoul Selection is far better layout-wise than the most recent Apgujeong piece. Anyhow, feel free to browse through them.

The eerie late-night winter scenes of Namdaemun Market. It was so cold that evening I’m surprised the camera didn’t jam up on me.

All of our days in Seoul were wonderful (no, I’m not exaggerating), but this one was a favorite. We knew we’d be meeting Mr. C. later that afternoon to visit K’s foster family, but the rest of the day was somewhat unscripted.

It was raining when we woke up. For late June, I guess, we’d been pretty lucky. Somewhere in or near July, Seoul’s rainy season starts. We only had a few mornings of rain our whole week. We took our umbrellas with us and headed out.

Our first stop? This little restaurant right around the corner:

Ever since reading this blog/website about Korean food I’d been intrigued about all the little restaurants with Korean-only menus. Not only is the food incredibly cheap ($10 would be a large multi-course meal), but it sounded like the food was really good! It’s kind of the equivalent of an American diner. A rainy morning seemed like the perfect morning for a little Korean comfort food. The restaurant interior:

I chose this (warm mushroom and veggie juk, or porridge):

D chose this (I think it was ddokguk: soft rice cakes, egg, and small pieces of meat in a beef broth):

If you know D, you know that soup isn’t his thing. Never has been, even though soup is one of my favorite things. “Too liquidy,” he says. Well, apparently Korean soup is so good it’s made a soup person out of him, because at the end of this meal he said words I never thought I’d hear: “We should eat more soup.” Wha?!

This was our basic set-up (notice the basin of metal chopsticks and spoons):

The food was delicious. While we sat and ate, there was a woman in the storefront window making kimbap at a rate I couldn’t believe.

Her kimbap must have been popular, because a steady stream of business people came in to buy rolls (and at $1 or $2 a roll, what a cheap and healthy lunch!). Since D was now a soup convert, I thought I’d encouraging kimbap (he swears he’ll never eat sushi or any kind of seaweed roll):

Nope. Oh well, more kimbap for me!

It was still raining after breakfast. Umbrellas in hand, we set out for Tapgol Park. It’s just a short walk from our hotel, and on our last try (day two) it was closed.

The map of the park:

The brochure:

click to enlarge

This morning it was open…and better still, the rain kept other tourists away. It was just us and the regulars…small groups of older men who sat at the pavilion to read and talk, and individual men who prayed at the sacred sites.

Sitting on the steps:

Praying (he was also doing some sort of physical exercise against the pillars; we weren’t sure what it was):

Tapgol Park isn’t large, but it has a lot of sights. National treasures #2 and #3 are here, and the octagonal pavilion at the center of the park is where the Declaration of Independence was first read, and where the 1919 (March 1) independence movement began. The movement was ruthlessly crushed by the Japanese occupation, and Tapgol Park contains several monuments memorializing the independence fighters and their unsuccessful struggle.

Some of the sights…

At the center of the park is the octagonal pavilion.

From it’s plaque: This pavilion, built in 1897, was originally used for musical performances for the royal family during the time of the Great Korean Empire, but it also has meaning as the place where the Declaration of Independence was read aloud at the time of the March First Independence Movement of 1919.

Beginning on the morning of March 1, 1919 four to five thousand students and the crowd gathered in Tapgol Park and read the Declaration of Independence. They waved Korean flags and shouted “Long live Korean independence!” Then the crowds headed for Daehanmun, and thus began the demonstrations of the March First Movement, which spread across the whole country.

Around the western edge of the park are ten metal reliefs depicting the March First Movement. Hundreds were killed and thousands were arrested. In the country-wide movement for independence, over 7,000 were killed by the Japanese. Most of the courageous teachers and leaders who read the Declaration at Tapgol Park were locked up in Seodaemun Prison…a place known for torture of prisoners.

One of the park gate roofs in the rain:

March 1st memorial writing:

The Wongaksa pagoda is South Korea’s National Treasure #2, and dates from 1467. It’s encased in a glass and metal building, but you can still see some of the pagoda’s details of you get close:

From the plaque: This 12 meter-high stone pagoda once stood in the early Joseon-era temple, Wongaksa. In 1465, Heungboksa temple, which had stood here since the Goryeo era, was rebuilt and renamed Wongaksa. This pagoda was built three years later, in 1467.

In 1947 the upper three levels, which had long lain scattered on the ground, were restored to their original state. This marble pagoda is unique in form, being the most recent of all pagodas designated national treasures. Also, the structure has been built in a refined and richly ornate, thus making it a superior work of a kind not found in any other Joseon-era stone pagodas.

National treasure #3 is a stone stele (tablet) from 1471, recording the history of the Wongaksa temple. It’s in the building I showed earlier, where the man in blue was praying. Like many other stele in Korea, it rests on the back of a turtle…a symbolic means of passage from the secular world to the idealized world of Paradise.

From the plaque: This monument was built in 1471 and records the history and founding of Wongaksa Temple, which was built in 1465.

The monument is 1.3 meters wide and 4.94 meters high. The turtle-shaped base is made of granite, while the head and monument are made of marble. The turtle-shaped head and body of the monument are made of one stone, and on the head of the monument are two elaborately carved intertwined dragons rising toward the sky and holding a wish-fulfilling Buddhist gem (yeouiju; Sanskrit: cintamani).

We wandered around Tapgol park, sat at the pavilion, and enjoyed the quiet and the rain. It’s a very peaceful place, or at least it was that morning, and it was nice to sit and watch the world go by for a little while. We weren’t the only ones who seemed to think so.

We walked back down Insadong-gil, and tried to get some frozen yogurt at Red Mango (which after a few days became either “The Elusive Red Mango” or “The Forbidden Red Mango” because it was always just closing or not quite open when we’d walk by). Closed again. Just up the street, though, is Bizeun, a trendy little tea shop and “riceteria” with a delicious creation called eng tu cha (sweet cherry tea, I think?). Cool, sweet, deliciousness.

We sat at the little table in the window and watched traffic move up and down Insadong street, then continued walking up toward Jogyesa. On Insadong-gil, near our hotel, is a little kkultarae stand that’s so well-known it’s in most of the guide books we read. If you spend thirty seconds anywhere in its vicinity, you’ll hear why…the guys who run it are hilarious.

Kkultarae is type of candy once served at court. A hardened block of honey is stretched and rolled in cornstarch until it becomes 16,000 individual threads. It’s then rolled around a mixture of sweetened nuts, and eaten in little bite-sized pieces of sweet fluff. It’s chewy, but it also melts in your mouth. Good stuff!

You can see someone else’s video of its production (along with some of the verbal antics) here:

More walking in the rain (this time snacking on kkultarae), gradually making our way toward Jogyesa. We stopped on the way at a little artists’ shop to inquire about having a name stamp made for K. More on that later…

Jogyesa during the day is a very different place than at night. I’m glad we were able to see both. On this day it was very, very crowded. Some sort of service was taking place in addition to all the other people that were there to pray, so people were everywhere. It was standing room only inside, and outside people were spreading out prayer mats under the eaves.

There was prayer and chanting, later followed by a choir singing a song that seemed similar to what we used to sing in church. You can hear a little of the prayer and chanting in this video I found (recorded by someone else on a different day):

For a look into Jogyesa at its most festive, see this video taken at the Buddha’s birthday celebration in 2008. Other pictures of Jogyesa…

At the side entrances, you take off your shoes before entering (only the monks use the front entrances):

Standing room only:

Prayer books:

A monk (wearing the traditional Jogye grey robes) looking in:

Prayer cloth:

Monks walking across the grounds with their golf umbrellas:

Offerings for Buddha (and a ceiling hung with paper lanterns):

Details of the exterior painting:

Jogyesa bell pavilion:

A charming little donation box with a smiling Buddha and an offering someone left…bottled water and Pringles:

Jogyesa has a little shop across from the temple where you can buy Buddhist prayer beads, traditional dyed fabrics, trinkets, prayer books, foods etc. that support the work of the temple monks. We spent quite a while in the shop looking around, and bought a few things for family and friends. For our older daugther, who loves stickers, we got these:

Buddhist monks playing sports!

And I liked this image (on a piece of cloth), so I brought it home:

If you’re curious about Jogye Buddhism or Buddhism in general, this FAQ from the Jogye website is an interesting read.

The main street near Jogyesa is lined with dozens of stores selling Buddhist items. We wanted to bring home a model of a Korean bell in a cherrywood stand (our kids would have loved ringing it) and a bronze Buddha, but we were a little dismayed at the prices and thought we could come back later if we didn’t find something we liked elsewhere. Note to self: when on a once-in-a-lifetime trip, if you find something you really like…get it. We never made it back to those shops.

It was getting close to our meeting time with Mr. C., so we went back to our hotel to change, then bought flowers for K’s foster mom at a local shop (I wish we had bought a plant instead…turns out she has a green thumb):

We took the subway to Meet Mr. C., then took a taxi to Mrs. S.’s home. K’s foster family lives in a high rise on the north side of Seoul. This is the view:

I don’t want to post public pictures of her home, but the time we spent there was wonderful. Mrs. S. was so kind and friendly, and she seemed more willing to give us advice about K than she had been at the orphanage. She was concerned about the photo we’d sent of K’s future bedroom (with a double bed), and was relieved when we assured her K would only sleep there when she’s much older. We had a snack of watermelon (one of K’s favorite foods) and rice cakes, and spent a couple of hours talking.

We got to see K in her home environment, which on its own made the cost and effort of traveling to Seoul more than worth it. It was such a gift to see the games she played with Mrs. S., to hear about her life in the past months and about Mrs. S’s family, and to see all the little ways K was comforted, made happy, fed, held, washed, dressed… not only did it give us a window into the care she’d received (such wonderful care), but it helped us make K’s transition a little easier.

We’ve tried to maintain similar routines…even down to the lotion Mrs. S. used after baths (Johnson’s baby lotion) and K’s favorite snacks (which took up half a suitcase on our way home). Best of all, we were able to establish the beginning of a relationship with Mrs. S….exchanging addresses, email, and making plans to exchange photos and letters in the years to come. K will always have a connection to her family in Seoul.

We left Mrs. S’s home (past her enormous tomato plants out on the balcony). We thought we’d be seeing her two days from now when K was brought back to the orphanage for the trip to the US, but it didn’t turn out that way. The last time we saw Mrs. S. she was holding K, waving and smiling, framed by tomato bushes taller than she is and a view of Seoul in the background. I hope we’re able to meet again someday, perhaps with our whole family in tow.

Leaving Mrs. S.’s:

Saying goodbye to Mrs. S. also meant saying goodbye to Mr. C. His kindness meant the world to us. Without his help, I don’t think we would have been able to have this window into K’s life with Mrs. S. We were so sad to see him go, and we hope either he can visit the US or we can visit him again in South Korea…though perhaps next time we could come to his region of South Korea. It sounds beautiful. Thank you so much, Mr. C.!

Late in the afternoon we returned to the store of the name stamp artist. He had given us a design for K’s name (in the Korean characters rather than the Chinese ones), and we wanted to run it by Mr. C. before deciding on it.  Mr. C. thought the circles in the characters should be hollow dots instead of solid ones, and the artist had a good laugh when we communicated that. It took us a little while to understand, but he was laughing because solid dots are part of his artistic style. Essentially, we were telling him to change his style. Whoops. Once we understood, D and I agreed that we wanted him to make the name stamp as he saw fit. We agreed on a design, picked out a stone, and agreed to return the next day.

That evening we had a special treat…we were going to meet S., a South Korean blogger I’d met when I asked around for photos of K’s birthday. S. didn’t have photos from that day, but she very kindly volunteered to translate some of the headlines and stories from K’s birthday.

When we found out we could travel to Seoul to meet K, I emailed her and asked if she’d like to meet. We nearly missed each other because of timing, but in a crazy coincidence it turned out she works in the office building right next to our hotel. In a city as enormous as Seoul, what are the chances of THAT?! In another strange coincidence, her English nickname (Sunny) is the meaning of K’s English name.

We were so excited to meet her. She met us at our hotel after work, and we walked to a restaurant in Insadong. I wish I’d taken a photo of the exterior, or even the restaurant name, because it was our favorite meal in Seoul. It seemed to be a very popular restaurant…the upper level was full, so we went to the basement level to find an open table. The interior looked like this (that’s the menu on the wall):

The main dish had three components…a bowl of rice, a basket of greens (chives and lettuce?), and a bowl of stew (a type of doenjang jjigae, I think?). When mixed all together, the flavor was incredible (!!) and looked like this:

That’s the stew in the background. Different varieties can have tofu, meat, veggies, shellfish, or a combination of several. Ours had tofu and veggies. Here’s a recipe for a slightly different doenjang jjigae. You can bet I’ll be attempting several versions in the near future…D can’t stop talking about how good it was.

The meal had great side dishes (banchan), too. Soup, oi-kimchi (stuffed cucumber kimchi), a salted marinated beef (D ate almost all of that himself):

salty dried fish (I tried it…pretty good, actually.)

This might have been yeolmu kimchi (young summer radish kimchi). Whatever it was, it was beautiful and delicious:

S. was a great dinner companion. She’s lived and worked in other parts of the world, she’s funny, and she was really patient with all our silly questions about Seoul (there were many). Why is so little water served with meals? What’s with the English t-shirts? Why is Korean food so good but so healthy? Is it okay that I’m always taking pictures of the food (A: Yes, because South Koreans are always taking pictures of their meals for their blogs, too.). She asked us our favorite sights so far, and encouraged us to get out of the city a little to appreciate the outdoors. We talked about our impressions of Seoul, about her work and plans, and about adoption.

One question S, Mr. C., and P. & J. all asked us was why are we adopting a child from South Korea? It’s a good question to answer, because not so long from now it’s a question K will be asking. The answer isn’t one simple reason, but a long list of logical reasons, random chance, and personal leanings.

We’re adopting a child because we’ve always wanted to. Because ten years ago, when D and I were dating, we talked about it and decided we wanted children to love, and it didn’t matter how they joined our family. Birth or adoption, they’d be our own. Back in college we also had lofty ideals about overpopulation, and environmental footprints, and only having one biological child at most, but over the years that’s faded. The truth is, the plans to adopt have been around so long that do-gooder reasons don’t really apply anymore. When you dream of a child for years on end, that dream becomes your motivation. Selfless turns to selfish, and I think that’s a good thing. It’s just my opinion, but I don’t believe do-gooder motivations hold up very well under the strains of parenting.

So why South Korea? We enjoy traveling, and always pictured adopting internationally…probably from Asia. For a long time we’d assumed we’d adopt from China, but for lots of reasons that wasn’t an option for our family. When the time came to get serious about adopting, we looked at all the programs and the South Korean program seemed like a perfect match for us. There was so much we liked about how children are treated in South Korea (small orphanages, foster care, access to great medical care, accurate medical reporting, the chance to know birth/first parents, a predictable process mostly free of corruption, etc.). We appreciated the changes happening in South Korea, and the gradual push for increased domestic adoption and increased support for single mothers.

We also liked the idea of having a relationship with South Korea and its culture. When we adopted, we knew we’d want to make that country and culture a part of our lives…through travel, through holidays and customs. If you’re going to have a lifelong tie to a place, and spend precious family vacations returning to a country, best to make it a country you think you’ll like, right? We read about Korea, about its history, about its climate, food, customs, people. It was definitely a country we wanted to explore, and a country we felt we could embrace with genuine enthusiasm.

So those are our reasons for adopting, and for choosing South Korea. Hopefully I can polish that up a bit and make it a little less rambling when 3-year-old K pops the question.

Back to dinner with S. After our incredible meal and happy conversation, she suggested tea. We went to a tea house she liked…a quiet little place in a second story overlooking Insadong-gil. We ordered her suggestions for tea (plum tea and red berry tea…both delicious), then spent more time talking. She gave us the articles she translated from K’s birth day (they’re in K’s memory book already!), and we talked a little more about all her travels and about our meetings with K. We were having such a good time, and the chance to sit and talk with S. (who really knows Seoul, and has all kinds of interesting stories) was one of our favorite parts of our trip to Seoul.

Before we knew it, it was late. S. had been out late the night before, and we felt guilty about keeping her out so late this evening. We said our goodbyes. Thanks so much for the relaxing, delicious, enjoyable evening, S.!  Best of luck in your future travels!

We walked away feeling so lucky…what a great night! Rather than go home to our hotel, D and I decided to go late-night sightseeing. We were more than halfway through our trip to Seoul, and we were getting worried we wouldn’t be able to see or do all that we had planned. All the guidebooks say that Namdaemun market is open all night, and that sounded fun… from Frommer’s 2008 South Korea: “Namdaemun is the largest traditional market in the country and going strong since 1414. They say if you can’t find it here, it probably doesn’t exist. There are no set hours, which vary by store, but the shijang is bustling any day of the week. Serious bargain hunters come for the night market from midnight to 4am.”

Bargain hunting? Traditional market? Vendors, shops, and alleyways? Sounds great!!

The main gate of Namdaemun Market:

And it would have been great…in theory. Turns out 11pm isn’t the best time to see Namdaemun. Though some shops are open, 90% or more of them are closed. Most of what you see are deliveries taking place for the next day’s market, or people closing up their stalls, stores, and restaurants. In a city less safe than Seoul (it’s so safe!), it would have been a darkish scary place to be at night.

This is a good picture of what it was like…lots of store signs, but almost all the vendors had packed up and left their stores covered in black tarps.

Some shops were open, though.

We checked out these two toy stores for Pororo:

And looked at all the beautiful kinds of wrapping paper for sale in this alleyway store (it’s a shame the lighting was so harsh…the colors of the paper were incredible):

A ginseng store was just closing (the ginseng stores kinda creeped D out…most of them had large posters with ginseng roots in the shape of human bodies, preserved in bottles and covered with wispy roots. I thought it was kinda cool.):

And restaurant alley was still bustling, with sample dishes set out to draw in potential customers:

The one thing we wanted from Namdaemun was a hanbok for K’s first birthday celebration (called a Tol in Korea). A few hanbok stores were open at that time of night, but the hanboks they sold weren’t the nicest. We knew we couldn’t leave Seoul without that special purchase, so we made plans to come back during the day.

Before leaving, we sat down at Namdaemun Gate. The wooden structure of Namdaemun dates back to 1447. Namdaemun Gate, or “Great Southern Gate,” was South Korea’s #1 National Treasure, and was destroyed by arson earlier in the year by a man who held a grudge against the government. Now there’s a temporary enclosure around it, and at the window you can see scaffolding for rebuilding.

Namdaemun is surrounded by business buildings, the market, and busy city streets, but it sits in the middle of a green lawn with a plaza and benches. I’d seen old photos of Namdaemun all over the internet and in books, and before it matched the bustle and bright lights of its location. It was ancient in the middle of modern, but it was grand and bright and busy. The night we visited, it just seemed quiet. Still. Almost like it was asleep behind its new blue walls.

They’re rebuilding. I hope when we return with K and the rest of our kids we can see it as it was. We sat for a long while and looked, then wandered back through the market and back to our hotel. G’night, Seoul.