I should mention that we were traveling around town primarily by subway. It was relatively easy; the stops are announced in English as well as Korean. The tricky part is actually getting on the train -- Koreans are very 'pushy,' and don't consider the fact you were standing in front of them in line. You've got to be really aggressive to get anywhere...

But the trains were very cheap (W350 = $.50) and very, very clean (with the trash receptacles bearing the mis-translation, "Don't Waste Wastes."). :) They are also heated in an unusual manner: the heat comes up from under the seats... you are apt to have quite a warm tush by the time your stop comes around.

My only problem with traveling on the subways was the way we were constantly being stared at. Evidently, Westerners are an unusual sight, so people were constantly gawking at us. It made me feel really uncomfortable. There was one area of town where Westerners were just about as common as Koreans, but on the whole, outside this spot (Itaewon), I saw no more than 15 white-skinned people the whole time I was there. I think I got an all-too-accurate assessment of what it feels like to be in the minority.

Speaking of Itaewon, this was definitely my favorite part of town. It's more Western and commercial than the rest of Seoul, and it is there that you find the most English-speakers. And at this point in my vacation, I was terribly, terribly frustrated with my lack of ability to communicate with people. So, to be able to point to something I wanted to buy and say "How much?" and be answered not only in English, but with a dollar (vs. Won) amount, was pretty comforting to me.

It was here, in Itaewon, that something really pretty freaky happened to me. We were standing in a liquor store, gawking at the exorbitant prices, when I overheard a fellow Westerner telling companion that he had an acquaintance who was a wine steward at a restaurant in North Carolina. Of course, my ears pricked up. He continued saying that this friend worked at the Fearrington House near Pittsboro, NC. This restaurant is less than 5 miles from my old house!!! I introduced myself to this fellow, and we decided that it was a small world, after all.

Taking advantage of this Western area of town, we decided to try some pizza for dinner. This was a bad idea. The sauce was loaded with those hot, hot dried red peppers (!!), and whoever made that pie must've looked at a picture of a pepperoni pizza and determined that those little round red things were maraschino cherries. Bleah.

We decided to hit another Hof after dinner. This place featured 12 TVs stacked on top of each other, all all eyes were seemingly glued to the program: Korean MTV. I had a hard time with that; Korean pop music is not very inventive, and in fact, gets downright annoying after a while. It's all synthesized and drum-machine infested. I actually bought a tape of the song I kept hearing all over town, just so I could pester my roommates when I returned...

Anyway, a curiosity about the bars in Korea: if you drink, you're *required* to eat something. They didn't care that we just stuffed ourselves on peppery cherry pizza, we still had to order "anju" (snacks). We reluctantly ordered french fries. (I think the only English word the waiter knew was "potato." That's what he suggested and that's what he brought us.)

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