READING TIME: 4 MINUTES
I asked our interpreter why there were so many coffee shops in Seoul. There were twelve within two blocks or our hotel, I counted. She said it's because the Korean people are always working so hard. Indeed. Seoul is a vibrant city.
But first off, you don't need an interpreter to scratch the surface of Seoul if you speak English. You can cash in the currency of language like in so many other places in the world. That's one measure of wealth I never considered until recently. Speaking English is like having a stack of bills you can exchange for goods and services. You need real money too of course, but without the language you can't initiate the conversation. Imagine if someone who only spoke Korean flew into a US city and tried to get around. What are the odds that person could walk into a coffee shop and order a cup of coffee only speaking Korean? Not likely.
It was 96 degrees by 10am and when I got to the top of Namsan Park to snap a photo, I was drenched in sweat. But considering it was the first photo I had taken in nine months it was probably worth it. Besides, I woke up at 3am from the jet lag. I would have gone earlier but the subway didn't run until 5:19am. When I did go down at 5:15am, the train was there waiting. Doors open. Air-conditioned. Bright fluorescent light. There was a family of three folded on top of each other. Sleeping. There were a few others. Men in suits. Going to work. Everyone going somewhere to be productive. The Korean stock market is down 26% the past year. Tariffs, slowing exports to China. But don't tell that to these people. It takes years for that stuff to sink in.
That night we played a show. It was a black-box club. The green room was dark and only had two power outlets, the bathroom didn't have toilet paper. The backline was dank. We had trouble with the audio and it was stressful, but the local crew stayed respectful. The crowd was silent before the show. You could hear whispers. But it was mania when they hit. Like the Beatles. The crowd was mostly teenage girls and they screamed, and sang, and jumped in unison. It was incredible. The next day the band trended on social media. It created a moment, and the promoter said that was important. He said trends catch on like wildfire in Korea.
The next day we were supposed to fly to Osaka for a festival but a typhoon canceled the flight. It canceled all the flights. And all the flights the following day were sold out. It was a holiday weekend in Korea so there were lots of travelers. I got a call from the Japanese promoter. It looked like we were going to miss the show. I had to act fast. It was a typhoon after all. I called the emergency line of our travel agency and scurried options. I was on on the phone with the travel agent while texting the Japanese and Korean promoters. I looked at Google maps and the NOAA weather site. "What about this? What about that?" There were no direct flights to Osaka. The band was texting, asking what time we were leaving the hotel. Asking if I knew that the flight was cancelled. There was a flight the next day but it had a connection, and was on a budget airline. I sensed it would be tough and we'd have issues traveling with the gear. I suggested we fly to Tokyo today instead and take the bullet train down to Osaka. The Japanese promoter didn't like it. He wanted us to take the other flight. We had to make a decision. The Korean promoter said we needed to check out of the hotel because it was after noon and the hotel was strict and it was rude. I thought the Tokyo flight was best, I pushed. Japanese promoter said ok. There were eight of us. The travel agent booked the flights. We headed straight to the airport. Everything worked out and there were no problems. It looked easy.
After Osaka, we went back to Tokyo for a show. I had ramen five times in three days.
Then we flew to Auburn, Alabama and it was a very strange juxtaposition of culture pronounced by jet lag.
That was a microcosm of the past year. There were many more strange days, strange moments. No reflection, just moving.