Specifically Seoul

Friday night, David and I went to see the Chinese National Symphony Orchestra at the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts. The concert was the second, and final, performance of the orchestra’s two-night series in Seoul this week.

(I was especially excited because we were going out! On a Friday night! And …. I discovered to my utter amazement, that I could still fit into my thankfully-not-so-little black dress and silk wrap.)

The real highlight, for me, was pianist Kang Choong-mo’s performance during Rachmaninov’s “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini” Op. 43. His playing is both technically amazing and, at the same time, really warm and expressive. I’ve never really been into classical piano, honestly. But I’d definitely go hear him play again in a heartbeat.

If you haven’t been to the Sejong Center, it really is a wonderful place to see a symphony or opera. First, it’s location near City Hall and Seoul Plaza puts you in the heart of a beautiful, historic part of the city. It’s within walking distance of Gwanghwamun (now undergoing restoration) Gyeongbok Palace, and the modern Seoul Financial Center mall, among other things.

It’s also a modern, spacious performance center (and, according to Wikipedia, home to the biggest pipe organ in Asia). The concert was in the main hall, with wonderful, rich acoustics. The seats are comfortable and high-backed, each featuring individual color monitors that allow opera-goers to easily see subtitles. This may be the standard for large-city performance centers, but, being as we are from the sticks by comparison (Atlanta, Georgia, USA), I was really impressed.

And, now I’m going to depart from the high-brow artsy focus of this post to add another thing to Michael’s list of things he loves about Korea. One of the things I really love—and I know I’ve said this many, many times before—but, I’m saying it again: People here realize that humans need to eat. Especially those humans who are well into their second trimester of pregnancy.

I’ve always loved going to see classical music, and I’ve tried to be supportive of local symphonies wherever I’ve lived. Granted, I’ve never lived anywhere that was home to a nationally ranked orchestra—so maybe this is not a widespread problem. But, if you schedule a three- to four-hour performance to start at 7:30 on a weeknight, you need to serve some food, somehow, somewhere.

I always hated trying to rush out of work early to make a performance at Atlanta’s Woodruff Arts Center only to find that the only thing available in the lobby before the performance, and at intermission, were alcoholic drinks and coffee. They usually had a really nice buffet available, if you could get there at 5:30 when it set up, but that’s when most people leave work—if they’re lucky.

Here again, the Sejong Center didn’t disappoint, even considering that here—unlike in Atlanta—I could have walked about 15 feet outside the front door and bought dinner at a sidewalk stand if I’d really been in a pinch. But, the center food vendors offered coffee and an assortment of snacks. Call me a Philistine if you want to, but that egg salad and ham sandwich at intermission made all the difference in being able to really appreciate the Shostakovich symphony versus exerting all my will not to chew on the armrest for the remaining 45 minutes of the performance.

And, while I’m at it, I’m going to add another plug for studying up on your Korean if you’re an expat.

When we bought our programs, the girl behind the counter almost fell over when we told her it was okay that there was no English-language version available. She asked where we were from (which I am proud to say I correctly interpreted on the first try), and then complimented our Korean, going so far as to say that most Americans she met only knew a few basic verbs (which she obligingly listed out for us). David took the opportunity to chat for a few minutes, while I just smiled beatifically and tried to look smart.

A little background: we got our tickets through a coworker of mine who won them during a radio quiz and then couldn’t use them. (College friend’s housewarming party on the same night.) The tickets were for great seats, list price 90,000 KRW a piece. But when we looked closely, we realized that we had two tickets in the same row, but at opposite ends. (Glad my coworker, single and male, didn’t end up taking a date!)

We thought that maybe we were reading the seating chart wrong, so David went back to the girl with the programs and asked, “Are these seats together?” She shrugged and basically said she didn’t know, “But these are together,” she added, quickly replacing our two tickets with two others that were orchestra-level, second row.

Quite an upgrade.

Get in the car to drive to a party in a neighborhood 15 km away from yours (that’s just over nine miles for you guys back home) one hour before festivities are set to commence.

You will be very, very late.

Now that the weather’s turned cold, people lucky enough to have cars drive them. Usually, it is faster to walk, take a cab or the metro, but no one—including yours truly—really wants to hike to the bus stop in the cold if they don’t have to.

I don’t know what free stuff was being given away in Guro last night, but it seemed like half the city was headed there. We were invited to our first 돌자치 (for the son of one of David’s colleagues). Maybe it was just a lucky night to throw a party, and so everyone was doing it? It took us an hour and a half in bumper-to-bumper traffic to get there, and 20 minutes to get back home.

Understand that for most Seoullites this is nothing. City residents routinely spend 16+ hours in a car traveling to see relatives at Chuseok for a drive that usually takes three or four hours. As my boss said at the time, “You just drive until you can’t go anymore. Then, you pull over to the side of the road, have a little food, have something to drink, play some cards, then get back in and start again.” Eventually, you get there.

So maybe we should have packed some snacks and board games and made a night of it. But, we also should have left our house mid-afternoon. Fortunately (for us), other people must have had trouble getting there, too. Though we were more than an hour late to party, we still made it in time to have dinner and still see the 돌자비. He picked the money. Very cute.

I know, I know! The subway, maybe we’ve heard of it? Definitely from now on, we’re taking the train.

You see some strange things on the subway.

Last night, I was coming home late after going to a meeting of the Seoul International Women’s Association (SIWA) Working Women’s Network. (We watched an excellent KBS documentary, Family: Korean Women Rewriting Tradition, which I want to write more about later.)

Anyway, when the train pulled into Apgujeong, a very stylish looking couple was the first in line waiting to board. He wore a dark pin-stripe suit, color-coordinated tie, crisp white shirt, untucked, to give just the right rakish, out-after-work look. She was perfectly attired in a black velvet blazer, pleated black wool skirt and matching pumps. Her long black hair fell to her waist and was immaculate. Her makeup could have been professionally done. They looked to be in their early to mid 20s.

They waited side by side for the doors to open and when they did, you couldn’t help but notice something a little off. His arm was draped over her shoulders in a gentle embrace. They seemed quite relaxed. But the index finger of his right hand, the one attached to the arm over her shoulders, was quite clearly caught between her teeth. They were standing there, together, seemingly nonchalant. But she was biting down on his finger.

As the passengers disembarked, the couple calmly stepped onto the train—still side-by-side—and proceeded to stand right in front of where I was sitting, with the guy still ‘leashed,’ as it were.

After a few seconds, and what I can only interpret as some gentle requests (’OK. Come on . . .OK. Seriously. Let go.’). She relaxed her jaw and released his hand. I swear, I am not making this up.

After freeing his finger, the woman shot a cool sidelong glance at her partner, as if to say, ‘Yeah? Well, remember this next time.’

I can only imagine what led to the finger bite in the first place. Maybe the hand tried to stray someplace it shouldn’t. Maybe he tried to cover her mouth when she laughed or talked on the phone. Whatever it was, I think she established quite an effective deterrent to a recurrence.

He didn’t seem too perturbed and even laughed—in a kind of incredulous, shocked way—after she let go of him. The moment the subway door opened was definitely one of those times when I wished I’d had my camera and didn’t. I had the perfect shot.

So, what’s the strangest thing you’ve ever seen on the subway?