Apparently I’m not the only one who would rather not live in this country – so many others are in agreement that life here sucks, that Korea has the highest suicide rate in the world (25 deaths per 100,000). Don’t worry about me - I know that finding happiness is as simple as boarding an international flight – but others here might need a little more convincing. Thank god then for Samsung and Hyundai, two of the biggest companies in Korea, that have begun a new campaign to keep their employees from flinging themselves off the roof on a bad day. They now offer courses encouraging employees to “assess their priorities in life”, which include fun events such as writing your will, posing for a funeral portrait, and being buried in one of the many coffins in the “death experience” room and then covered with dirt.
Don’t believe me? Click on this link and check out the slide show from a recent Financial Times article (Notice the detail – they even give you a flower to hold before they bury you!).
Don’t get me wrong, I do not find any humor in suicide, but if someone is going to seal me in a coffin and ask me to pretend I’m dead, I’m certainly going to have a lot of trouble not laughing my ass off.
So, it was suggested by one of our dedicated readers that we try to lighten the mood somewhat. I agree that we tend to get bogged down by negativity, but hopefully you understand that we’re just trying to share our impressions and experiences with you, and unfortunately, they don’t happen to be the most positive ever. With that in mind, I’ve spent the past month or so trying to think of something good to say about this place, and I think I’ve finally thought of something. Yes, there IS one thing here that is able to, without fail, bring a smile to my face and temporarily steady my heart rate.
I am cooped up all day in an over-air conditioned office building, where I keep two scarves handy with which to insulate myself, and a pair of fake UGGs (yup, those cheesy wool boots) that I bought for $20 at a stall in the subway, and that wear around the office everyday, no matter if they do look a little silly with my business suit. You get the point – it’s cold. So there is nothing more satisfying than settling down on, you guessed it, the heated toilet seat. I don’t know who invented these things, or why they have them here, where the majority of people’s daily lives are significantly lacking in luxury (or even comfort), but I’m glad that they do. Now, whenever I have to pee, my mood brightens significantly.
Sure, electric toilets can be a little intimidating at first – they tend to have more buttons than most washing machines I’ve seen, some with Korean words I can’t decipher. Others just have pictures that look more like ancient hieroglyphics than anything else, and that you couldn’t pay me to push. I’ve heard stories of people approaching electric toilets the way that I tend to approach my Korean TV when I’m trying to switch to DVD mode – just push all the buttons until something happens – but those don’t tend to end well when the toilet is involved.
But once you’ve figured out which one turns the heat on, you’re really all set. You can bring in a good book, your PSP, or settle down for a quick nap – as Wexford suspects many of his co-workers do during lunch. I usually just like to lock myself in and focus on feeling warm for a few fabulous minutes, before I head back to my cube and chug another couple glasses of water. The only thing left to do now is convince Westerners that this is something we need in our homes and offices, so by the time I move back, there will be a nice, warm toilet seat waiting for me.
Everybody knows the Kims have no love for dogs - unless they come in a pot covered in spicy sauce. In fact, some of the abuse of animals I've witnessed here could probably convince the PETA to sell yellowcake to Pyonyang (and you Know PETA is hoarding yellow cake). But did you know about their secret vendetta against doves? It's true, check this out: the picture above is from the 1988 summer Olympics. If you look carefully you can see a dove on the left about to meat its doom in that monster-truck-sized torch. Apparently it was traditional to release a flock of doves into the air to start the Olympics, as a symbol of international peace. The practice was discontinued after 68 years when the Kims built a torch so friggin huge it roasted some of the poor buggers before they could think to fly away. Hmmm, I wonder what that giant torch could be compensating for? Actually the entire 1988 Olympics was one flaming ironic Ferrari for South Korean dictator Chun Doo Hwan, who attempted to use the games to placate his people's demands for democracy.
"No votes for you, but check out this monster torch"! Care for some crispy dove with that?
Warm weather is here, which means it’s time for our hero to check out the Seoul sporting scene. Gotta drop that kimchi gut in time for swimsuit season. As you might expect, exercising in Korea is not as pleasant as it could be. Seoul is mostly a massive, disgusting, concrete shithouse - practically devoid of public spaces and certainly low on sporting arenas. Nonetheless, intrepid athletes can find fields and courts if they’re willing to travel, but don’t expect access to be easy or friendly.
Two weeks ago me, my shorty and my boy Alfonso Izquierda went to the river to rent bicycles. The Han River is where almost all outdoor activity takes place in town, unless you can make the hike to the outskirts. The fetid flow spans the width of Seoul, so there are a number of different parks. However these are almost invariably hard to access. Our first bicycle outing was a harrowing experience. We took a cab to the river, spotting the bike rental spot as we drove over the bridge on a highway. Even though we knew where the bicycle rental place was, our taxi driver had a hell of a time getting there. Now this in and of itself is not that unusual – I’m sure my DC readers know how absurd it can be to reach public places in a metropolitan area. But our taxi driver took a unique approach: he stopped in the middle of the highway and left us to hop the guard rail and scramble down a hill to the street below just as he peeled off to avoid getting hit by a bus.
Once down the hill the bike ride was fine enough, although the ever-present oblivious attitude of the Kims often reared its head in the form of people crowding the lanes.
Most Koreans don’t play sports (especially young Kims). Furthermore, the Kims who are not terrified of physical activity have a rather comical conception of what constitutes exercise. Thus one will often find a strange array of useless equipment installed alongside the river, including spinning discs that you are meant to stand on and twist from side to side, and other devices too inane to describe. Received Korean wisdom seems to indicate that shaking around like an idiot must be good for you.
These ridiculous machines are ubiquitous in my new gym, which I am now using to supplement my trips to the river. The most popular machines are ones on which tiny Korean women can be vibrated for hours on end without expending any actual physical energy. Remember the old vibrating belts they sold to fat Americans in the 50’s? They still have those here – jiggle it off while you chew a kimchi flavored Twinkie, fatties!
The Kims often don’t really have anything resembling sports etiquette. This, added to the fact that Koreans are generally lacking in etiquette in all areas, can make for some frustrating athletics. My gym is tiny, only possessing a free-weight area big enough for 4 people at a time to work out. Normal people would recognize this limitation and behave with heightened awareness of their surroundings – but not the Kims. People here routinely take over one of the two benches in the weight room and hang out on it for hours. While they may occasionally lift something, they spend most of their time looking at themselves in the mirror, or doing pointless little exercises that do not in any way require the use of one of the only available benches.
Yesterday I headed to the bench press to find it occupied by a large middle-aged Kim. After watching him finish a set and proceed to sit on the bench for 10 minutes, followed by a 5 minute session of air karate chops (he was sparring with himself in the mirror I guess), I asked him how many more sets he had left. He said one. After he finished his next ridiculous routine I moved in to take his place. I’m not sure what he said next, but the asshole’s general message was that I should wait until he was good and ready to get off the bench. I pointed out to him that we could easily share this bench – and also attempted to indicate that we should be mindful of the dearth of equipment in our gym. The old douchebag was completely baffled by the idea of sharing the equipment. He also seemed oblivious to the crassness of his routine and its air karate chops. Couldn’t he fake fight himself somewhere else? Of course not.
He is not alone – none of the Kims with whom I’ve tried to communicate in various crowded gyms have ever grasped the concept of sharing. It’s simply not done here. What is done resembles some kind of farce: there’s not enough room for everyone on the equipment, so the Kims waste as much time as possible doing imaginary “exercises” that aren’t having any effect whatsoever. It would actually be funny if it weren’t happening to me – but I guess that’s par for the course here.
