Week 1 - To be alone or why the subway smells...

Only when I was sitting down for the first time on the heated chairs of the subway towards my hostel in South korea, have I realized that I was officially stepping into new uncharted land. That feeling wasn’t aroused in Bangkok, and with no wonder – half of the population are either Israeli or at least English speaking foreigners. But here, I was the only foreigner in the compartment… probably on the whole train itself, and I could feel for the first time what you can consider as solitude. Sure, there were other people, Korean people, playing with their transformer like phones or watching small TVs, but none of them would provide any comfort for this feeling. Even help with directions was a rare commodity, since most of the Koreans are clueless about any language other than their own. So there I was sitting, holding to the subway system map as if my life depends on it, thinking already that I know everything there is to know about the Korean culture, and only by the chill atmosphere hanging above the heated metal seats of the subway.

so I finally arrived at Namsan hostel. It only took about 40 minutes of subway changing and some 10 minutes of sign language conference with a cute clerk lady at a glasses shop. It took me a while, but I grew fond of my hostel. At first I was a little disoriented from the petit size of the room, but after a fashion, I began to like it. Sure, its small, and the walls are one inch thick and I have exactly 3 centimetres of toe stretching when I sleep… but hey, its home. Above all, it contributed to my understanding of some peculiarities concerning the the east-asian culture of small housing. I’m sure that, given the chance and money, they would buy big houses with tons of stuff inside, but they have adapted themselves to a metropolitan way of living, and the hardship that comes with it. This culture does not abide to our western holy crusade of a home sweet home adventure. They do not need it, since they rarely see their home. We can call it cruel, or a hard way of living, but it seems to be functioning. Instead of establishing their homes as a base of operations, they combine work and pleasure altogether, leaving their homes with the task of serving as a sleep station and a place of meeting the family from time to time. It is not really unusual since we can spot this same behaviour in other mega-cities all over the world. However, in East-Asia this practice has been perfected. Many workers are living in huge company buildings spread all over Seoul. It’s the same as living in dormitories. So they go to work in the morning, and come back at hours that range from 20:00-24:00 in the evening, and that is mostly because they tend to spend their time with their working friends right after work hours. And that is why the subway always smells like cheap alcohol from 19:00.

But hey, I got my own problems, and alone isn’t one of them.

(in the picture: one of many complex buildings belonging to large companies in Korea. there their workers are dwelling with their families, probably to be closer to work.)