Heart and Seoul
In a block of wood, rings worn into concavity with time and use, a knife, convex bend embracing its host. In the mingled pre-dusk glow of trouble-lights and sunshine, both have the matte, reddish cast of rust and mulchy forest. Rather than separate objects, one seems merely an extension of the other - beautiful in their modest symmetry, unintended marriage of function with form. Set upon a roadside push cart heavy laden with plastic tubs of frozen fish.
There is no vendor present. The steady stream of pedestrians passing by spare it not a single glance. Where street and sidewalk merge alongside the subway exit, it is all but invisible.
Further down the road, a mountain park rising from the cement walkways of the city which surrounds it. Neighbourhoods of steeply ascending tile roofs, lush at the edges with carefully tended gardens, creeping up its sides, filling its folds with breaths of the past. Time out of time. In the heart of Seoul.
The word 'Seoul' in Korean means, simply, 'capital'. It is the largest city in the country by far - a sprawling metropolis that encompasses over a fifth of the entire South Korean population. Before arriving here, the idea of ten million people in any confined space seemed thoroughly intimidating - the local population density is a mind boggling 30 to 40 thousand people per square kilometer. Which is the total population of my home town, set into the sparsely populated prairies of north-west Alberta, whose provincial population density is a mere 4.6 people per square kilometer. My surprise at finding Seoul friendly and eminently manageable therefore should be easy to understand.
Seoul is a city of treasures, by equal measure showcased and hidden. When I first came to Korea, encased in a miniscule one-room apartment provided by hostile employers in a nearby city, it was my escape. Every Friday after work I would board an express bus for downtown Seoul, and eventually for the sanctuary of my friend's home and distraction in the city. I explored only a fraction of the multitude of neighbourhoods and attractions, but even these provided more than enough surprises for a lifetime of discovery. Plus my time was always limited, and I was often tired. I came to the city not as a tourist, but as a retreat.
When I moved cross-country to Changwon, so very different from Seoul and so much loved, Seoul became my play city - one in which I was constantly 'just passing through'. I cemented my pattern of visitation, growing ever more comfortable in my tiny enclaves without ever expanding their boundaries.
Until now.
The last week has been one of exploration in Seoul. Accompanied by a good friend whose own enclaves in Seoul lap at the edges of mine and expand far outwards like ripples in a pond, I have had the pleasure of rediscovering the city. Some of our wandering has been in 'my' areas - sharing favorite spots and people already intimately known to me. Much of our wanderings have been inside areas that I commonly passed through but rarely stopped at before, areas ripe for our mutual discovery. Some of our wanderings have been in 'her' areas - parts of the city completely new and unknown to me, yet known implicitly by her. In each case I have been absolutely astounded by everything I see. I feel as if I am falling in love with this city all over again.
In the heart of downtown, a tiny market. By day, front a collage of brightly coloured fruit laid out on long tables where the worker women will sometimes offer discounts on the produce with a smile. By night, fruit vanishing and tables host to loud groups of suited business-men drinking soju from paper cups and eating kimchi stew from bubbling bowls. In every place, so much to see, so much to experience. Function and form all around, the heart of Seoul.
There is no vendor present. The steady stream of pedestrians passing by spare it not a single glance. Where street and sidewalk merge alongside the subway exit, it is all but invisible.
Further down the road, a mountain park rising from the cement walkways of the city which surrounds it. Neighbourhoods of steeply ascending tile roofs, lush at the edges with carefully tended gardens, creeping up its sides, filling its folds with breaths of the past. Time out of time. In the heart of Seoul.
The word 'Seoul' in Korean means, simply, 'capital'. It is the largest city in the country by far - a sprawling metropolis that encompasses over a fifth of the entire South Korean population. Before arriving here, the idea of ten million people in any confined space seemed thoroughly intimidating - the local population density is a mind boggling 30 to 40 thousand people per square kilometer. Which is the total population of my home town, set into the sparsely populated prairies of north-west Alberta, whose provincial population density is a mere 4.6 people per square kilometer. My surprise at finding Seoul friendly and eminently manageable therefore should be easy to understand.
Seoul is a city of treasures, by equal measure showcased and hidden. When I first came to Korea, encased in a miniscule one-room apartment provided by hostile employers in a nearby city, it was my escape. Every Friday after work I would board an express bus for downtown Seoul, and eventually for the sanctuary of my friend's home and distraction in the city. I explored only a fraction of the multitude of neighbourhoods and attractions, but even these provided more than enough surprises for a lifetime of discovery. Plus my time was always limited, and I was often tired. I came to the city not as a tourist, but as a retreat.
When I moved cross-country to Changwon, so very different from Seoul and so much loved, Seoul became my play city - one in which I was constantly 'just passing through'. I cemented my pattern of visitation, growing ever more comfortable in my tiny enclaves without ever expanding their boundaries.
Until now.
The last week has been one of exploration in Seoul. Accompanied by a good friend whose own enclaves in Seoul lap at the edges of mine and expand far outwards like ripples in a pond, I have had the pleasure of rediscovering the city. Some of our wandering has been in 'my' areas - sharing favorite spots and people already intimately known to me. Much of our wanderings have been inside areas that I commonly passed through but rarely stopped at before, areas ripe for our mutual discovery. Some of our wanderings have been in 'her' areas - parts of the city completely new and unknown to me, yet known implicitly by her. In each case I have been absolutely astounded by everything I see. I feel as if I am falling in love with this city all over again.
In the heart of downtown, a tiny market. By day, front a collage of brightly coloured fruit laid out on long tables where the worker women will sometimes offer discounts on the produce with a smile. By night, fruit vanishing and tables host to loud groups of suited business-men drinking soju from paper cups and eating kimchi stew from bubbling bowls. In every place, so much to see, so much to experience. Function and form all around, the heart of Seoul.
posted by Roberta | 6:01 PM
