{"id":945,"date":"2019-07-14T06:37:00","date_gmt":"2019-07-14T06:37:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/?p=945"},"modified":"2020-10-27T03:33:58","modified_gmt":"2020-10-27T03:33:58","slug":"seoul-man","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thetembo.com\/clip\/2019\/07\/14\/seoul-man\/","title":{"rendered":"Seoul Man"},"content":{"rendered":"Reading Time: <\/span> 15<\/span> minutes<\/span><\/span>\n

Cloud Hike<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

I stop at Socheong peak. There’s another hiker not too far behind me who stopped to write something in his notebook. I didn’t see a single person for the first two hours of this hike, not counting the German youngster I met on the bus ride over, who opted for an easier hike to the waterfalls. I’ve only passed a dozen people since, and most of them at the Yangbok<\/g> shelter. I contemplate with irony, the signs I had seen at the trailhead of hiking etiquette and rules for sharing the trail, decipherable to me as pictographs but not as language. I contemplate with concern, the neon sign at the upper trail entrance whose only English words in red are “No! No!” <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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It’s only another 1.2 kilometers to the Daecheongbong peak, the intended destination and turnaround point, but it’s already noon and I’ve been hiking non-stop for the last four hours. The last stretch of terrain, I’m not sure I can refer to it as a trail, was ridiculously steep requiring thoughtfully-provided knotted ropes at points. My calves are burning, my heart is pounding, and my cotton t-shirt is soaked with rain and sweat. I’m not sure when it gets dark here as the sun sets behind the mountains to the west. I’d like to make it back to the parking lot by 5:20 to catch the last bus back to Sokcho, and the only thing I can see, from my current vantage point, is the dull grey of the inside of a cold wet cloud. That last 1.2 kilometers could probably take over an hour in one direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I decide I’ve had enough, time to turn around. My decision has an \nelement of concession to fear as much as to practicality. The thought of\n my pounding heart bursting or slipping on wet rocks or of having to \nspend the night in a shelter with hordes of ravenous chipmunks crawling \nover me looking for crumbs is not appealing. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heading back down the m<\/g>ountain, the pressure is off. I have plenty of time to stop and<\/g> appreciate the views and capture the scenery on camera. At the Huiunga shelter, I change into a dry t-shirt, hydrate, and share my power<\/g> bar with an aggressive chipmunk who had the nerve to start crawling<\/g> up my leg. The rain is picking up from a light mist to a heavy drizzle<\/g>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The trip back is much easier on the heart, of course, I don’t even break a sweat in the 15 C temperatures but I’m quickly soaked through by the drizzle and dripping, rain-soaked canopy. The scenery is amazing when spires peek<\/g> out through the clouds serving as the backdrop to canyons and waterfalls<\/g> and streams working their way through the boulders. Pines grow<\/g> horizontally out of the sheer face of the rock turning upward to the<\/g> sky. It seems like there is a picture around every corner. If I wasn’t worried about protecting the equipment from the rain, I probably would<\/g> have taken a thousand pictures instead of a mere hundred. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Stats<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I can only imagine how beautiful it must look in the fall with the brilliant reds and oranges or even how the rugged peaks look in the clear sky. I take consolation in the fact that I saw it as few others do, from the inside of a cloud, wet and shrouded and lush, an amazing, even mystical hike. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Locating the Intangible Center<\/a><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

I’m just about at the location indicated by the tag on Google Maps \nfor the “Seoul Intangible Cultural Heritage Center”. But as soon as I \nget there, the blue dot of my position leaps forward or the tag leaps \nbackward. I backtrack. The opposite happens. The blue dot leaps back or \nthe Intangible tag leaps forward. I can’t tell for sure. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I walk slowly, carefully inspecting each building for a sign. \nSometimes the entrances are hidden down little alley walkways or up on \nthe second or third floor. I walk around checking all the corners and \nwalkways. Nothing. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think to myself, because I am the only person I can really think to\n even in this high tech city, that perhaps it is underground like the \nGoTo shopping mall. I enter the closest subway access. I find nothing \nbut women’s clothing and shoe stores and underground restaurants. There \nis nothing intangible about that.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I climb the stairs back up to the street. I check the map again. The \ntag shows the Intangible Center a couple of blocks away. “How did that \nhappen?” I walk down the two blocks. The Intangible tag is now off to \nthe east by a block. I curse and walk.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I walk, I check all the signs on the buildings. I stop a few passerby-ers to ask for help. They shrug as if the Intangible Center doesn’t exist. Nothing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I admit defeat. I throw my hands up in surrender. On my map, I notice the blue dot hovers directly over the tag. Only<\/g> then do I realize I have found the Intangible Center. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Time to move on to the next destinations: “The Abstract Museum of Art” and the “Ethereal Church of the Divine”\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Random Acts of Kindness I<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

After a long day, I want to sit up on the roof with Max to have a Soju. Max and I walk into our hotel restaurant at the Grid Inn to buy one. The manager, not understanding much English but realizing that we aren’t going have dinner at the restaurant, sends us around the corner to a 7-11 for a much cheaper bottle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Max tells me about a drink called Samaek<\/g>, which is Soju mixed with beer, but he doesn’t quite know the recipe. So Max and I buy the necessary ingredients at the 7-11. Upon returning to the hotel and under mild protest from Max that bringing in our purchase to the restaurant is somehow inappropriate, I stop in the restaurant again to ask the manager how to make this drink. He doesn’t understand. He directs me to the front desk to get assistance from a very pretty receptionist named<\/g> Jin. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She starts to draw on a piece of paper. She draws a shot glass, indicates the shot glass should be filled to a third with Soju. She then draws a beer glass, says to pour the Soju into the beer, and then make a fizz using the chopstick, all in perfectly understandable English. The manager catches on, he fetches two beer glasses, two shot glasses, a bottle opener for the beer and a set of chopsticks. While we wait, Jin informs me that she could handle two Sojus, which given their rather high alcohol content and her petite frame, would be quite an accomplishment. At the reception desk, I proceed to follow the recipe creating my first Samaek of Soju and beer. Jin slams the chopstick into the drink to transform temporarily the drink into a glass of fizz. I told the manager to fetch a couple of more glasses for himself and Jin, he laughs but declines and does not allow Jin to join since she still had to work for a while. There was no mistaking the disappointment in her voice when the manager told she couldn’t have an on the job Samaek .<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I returned to the hotel on my next stay, Jin was working again at the front desk. I fetched her two bottles of Soju from the 7-11 as a gift for her help. I was worried she might get in trouble. She was so happy when she opened the gift, I was surprised. She said she would share it with her mom tonight. I like the<\/g> thought of her sitting around with her mom drinking Soju from the nice<\/g> American man. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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In the morning, as I checked out, the morning receptionist handed me a\n nice thank you note from Jin. I’m not thrilled about being referred to \nas Mr. Angel but the thank you note made it the best 3000 won (less than\n three dollars) I spent in Korea. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cruel and Unusual<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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Severed<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Take 1: If there is one thing I like about Korea, it is their righteous treatment of sex offenders. The punishment of dismemberment fits the horrendous crime, though I don’t care too much for the public display of the severed<\/g> parts, congregating together, almost as if still alive, in an aquarium<\/g> of formaldehyde solution. I know it sends a message, but it seems<\/g> so primitive. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Take 2: Highly evolved predators with few natural enemies, sharks nonetheless face a threat today they’ve never seen before: man. The fishing industry kills up to 73 million sharks annually, primarily because their penises are necessary for a traditional Asian delicacy, shark penis soup. Shark fishing is a gruesome effort. Typically, fishermen slice off the penis before tossing the amputated fish overboard. The male shark, unable to mate, falls to the seabed dying slowly of humiliation.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Take 3: (This time I quote from Wikipedia, so maybe this version is actually true.) “Urechis unicinctus<\/g><\/strong><\/em> ( Korean<\/a>: \uac1c\ubd88) is a species of the marine spoon worm<\/a>. It is widely referred to as the fat innkeeper worm<\/strong> or the penis fish<\/strong>.[2]<\/a><\/sup> The body is about 10\u201330 cm long, cylindrical in shape and yellowish-brown in color. “
<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Random Acts of Kindness II<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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I’m staring down at four brown speckled eggs about a quarter the size\n of a chicken egg, maybe from a quail? maybe candy? The outside is hard,\n definitely a shell. What am I supposed to do with it? My server doesn’t\n speak a lick of English, so I take out the phone, bring up the google \ntranslate page, and type “How do I eat?” translating it into Korean.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I almost didn’t stop at this particular restaurant because of Max’s rule to eat at a place where there are a lot of people, but then I walked down to a few other places and nothing is busy. I backtrack. I like this place because the seating has an outdoor patio facing the harbor. It’s not very busy. I’m the only one dining at what I think are her tables. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I hand her the phone. She reads the message. She sits down at my table and proceeds to give me a tutorial on how to eat the food, peeling the hard-boiled eggs for me, telling me what sauces go where, and delicately extracting the spine with all the rib bones intact from the fish, leaving all the edible meat bone-free. She brings out her phone and asks me where I am from, her phone translating Korean into English. She has three sons and seems to be concerned that my son is so far from where I live. We have a little Google conversation, in between her work to serve a family that has opted to sit at a floor table inside the restaurant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another group of four Korean men sits at a table next to me. So I go about the business of eating my dinner and drinking my beer as she attends to her customers. English is a rare commodity outside of Seoul, even in touristy areas. I enjoyed the conversation facilitated by technology. Instead of a person just doing her job, I found a person eager to help me appreciate the meal, with a little help from the translation software. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mothra<\/a><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

It’s 90+ degrees in Seoul, not quite so bad under the Bukhansan canopy. I read that the hike has more people per square foot than any other hike in the world. But for some reason, oh yeah, the 90+ degree heat, we don’t seem to be running into much of a crowd. The few people we do pass on the trail are clad in full toe to head, high tech setups of poles, backpacks, jackets, visors, and pants. It might be state of the art fabric, but wearing all that gear still looks damn hot. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Hike Stats<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

What the national park lacks in people, it makes up for in moths<\/g>. I assumed they were butterflies because butterflies are diurnal while moths are nocturnal. But later examination of my pictures shows the telltale feathered antenna and the open wings upon alighting. Alighting is a lot like astopping<\/g>, only much more graceful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The moths flit with endless energy, perhaps self-fanning to cool off from the heat. I don’t know the species. It’s not particularly colorful or beautiful. The moths hover over the ground, in the tops of bushes, and in the canopies of the trees. I think of mosquito swarms as a moth flies under my cap. Later, one flies into my mouth as I suck up some of the hot air on our 500-meter ascent. I wonder if the Koreans have the Mexican equivalent of “Moscas no entrada, un boca<\/g> cerrado”. (Flies don’t enter a closed mouth). Moths don’t enter a closed mouth? I spit the little bugger out. I had to come all the to Korea to discover that I don’t much care for the dish of raw moth. Maybe I would like a cooked moth, I’m trying to keep an open mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Real butterflies dash by, Parisian models by comparison to their drab<\/g> cousins. A hummingbird-sized moth hovers over a bush, before moving into<\/g> the shadows. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Max and I trudge on. Yes, trudge is the right word for a 500-meter \nelevation-gain hike in ninety-degree heat. About 500 meters in altitude,\n we reach the gate, a squared-off doorway, that has some historical \nsignificance. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The plan is to head six-tenths of a kilometer west, then come back \ndown another route. I would like to summit, but we are already \ndehydrated. I get the feeling that Max is only tolerating the hike for \nmy benefit. He is definitely more about connecting with people than with\n nature. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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It turns out that I am not even at the right peak. The higher peak is\n off in the distance. Going down is a relief. We find a dog guarding a \ntemple, an odd-shaped caterpillar, and a lot more moths. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Once we make it back to the park entrance, we find lunch and a beer and a restaurant just outside the park entrance. For me, the best meal and<\/g> drink is a reward after a good hike. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Best of Korea<\/a><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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Sixth Tallest Building in the World<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n