FRIDAY
Weather: rain, rain, rain

MY hotel sucks: There's no ventilation, no air conditioning, and no shower curtain.
Plus the operator NOT ONLY listens in when I make a phone call, but later, she calls me after I finish my call, asking me, "was that your girlfriend?"

I blow my nose this morning, ejecting a scab NOT in the shape of America.

outside the hotel is the woman with the hardest job in the world: she's selling alarm clocks, demonstrating the power of her wares by letting them ring all fucking day long. I'm glad I'm not in America because she would be going so fucking postal on my ass, as well as the asses of passers-by.

In the subway station , there's an Asian lady with a BERKELEY sweatshirt. I go up and start talking fast in American: "Oh, you're from Berkeley too? Cool! Are you on holiday too?" She just looks at me like I'm from Mars. Oops, I was too politically correct again. She's obviously never even HEARD of Berkeley.

I go to Sincheon (a trendy college student neighborhood) and try to find hipster stores. . . if possible, hipster stores with bilingual clerks who will get all jazzed on me and invite me to rap and punk shows. No luck. But, just when I was ready to give up, I find a poster. . . IN ENGLISH! For a RUINS concert!!!! What a cool coincidence. . . but with my luck the concert was last week, right? Nope, it's TOMORROW!!!

Holy shit!

Then I go to KYONGBOKKUNG. It's the #1 palace in Seoul for a reason: it's COMPLETELY INSANE. It's the size of Colorado. I crack myself up by muttering, "it's no COEX, but…."

the Royal Information Kiosk..

.. . . and the royal Vending Machines

 

and, check out the details, please!

 

 

and let's not forget the TOTAL RANDOM ANTISEMETISM:

The main building is under construction, and from within its scaffolding comes the most beautiful sound. It's a construction tool of some sort but nothing I've ever heard before. The eerie glissandos kind of sound like the 'musical saw.' I could listen to it all day. . .

Then I go back to the hotel. On the way, some guy is walking past me in the subway station and actually trips because he was looking at my hair! Once in the hotel, I sit in the tub reading Korean rap lyrics:

• "everybody say WOOE!"
• "yo, dat's why I brought you to MP project dude
  good I was fuckin' hungry I'm glad I could at some food"
• "I got your back! don't sweat about this actual fact! "
• "my people are coming soon and then you check it!"
• "a-yo! Don't forget the speaking trumpet!"
• "crazy party people get ready to action!"
• "y'all be da famous bitches world widely known feel it!"

If Asian-American kids call Korean pop "K-pop" and Korean girls "K-girls", what does that make Korean rap?

THEN I go meet Yanghie at COEX, the biggest mall in Seoul. It's the showpiece of 'South Seoul:' very shiny and neat and plastic. In comparison to the messy, lively North Side. But still, it's full of happy young couples that breathe a little life into the place.

They've got this badass video arcade with the dancing game, and also the drumming game: an authentic rock drum kit you play along to the music with (bon jovi and queen mostly), and it grades you on your performance. Also, this amazing game that's like a 'virtual mechanical pencil lead-ejecting race' and a 'virtual eating contest' and this totally insane game, I think it was called OBESE MULTICULTURAL BABY RACING.

also there's a whole store dedicated to the Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki, the creator of SPIRITED AWAY and MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO. And of course in the store they're playing gangsta rap. So I'm looking at all these cute Totoro dolls and hearing "bitch, I'ma split your wig till your dome pops, bitch!".

 

Then again, there's the DALKI store. Dalki is a cute, whimsical little girl with a cute little rasberry on her head, and she looks like this:

but for some reason there's this ONE character that looks more like THIS:

(it's the size of a human head, but soft and cuddly)

his name is don-chi-mi, and yes, that's a turd on his head. apart from the problems caused by this being a plush turd doll, it's even more fucked up because it's also, well, . . .A PLUSH DECAPITATED FUCKING HUMAN HEAD type doll.

 

and here's the don-chi-mi cell-phone holder, front view. . .

. . . and ,er , rear view.

In the mall, some Asian lady comes up to me and Yanghie. In English, she asks me for directions to KFC. How do I know? I'm American like you, lady. Yanghie helps her out, and she bails. I explain to Yanghie that American-born Asians sometimes get embarrassed of their poor Korean or their American accents, and that's why she was talking to me. Ironically, this lady WAS from around Berkeley! I should have given her my card. "if you want to talk to another American, and compare notes."

We go to dinner at this restaurant, I think it was called "CHINESE RESTAURANT WHERE WE PUT KIMCHI IN EVERYTHING," and spend 20 minutes walking through this very bright, very lively, very crowded mall. . . then Yanghie takes me around a corner . . . . into this huge, quiet, empty room the size of a football field. After all the noise and light of COEX, this new space hits me like a religious revelation. not to mention the INSANELY COOL art!!

On the far side of the Big-Ass Hall is a bar. There's a band playing quiet 70's rock. All white people. This is my introduction to the amazing world of Hotel Music: the drummer is this fat, ponytailed guy playing on a Roland Octapad, and there's a keyboard guy and a guitar guy, and 2 white girls with microphones. I don't think I ever see them singing, they just sway back and forth and snap their fingers. I want to stay and watch this spectacle all night, but Yanghie doesn't understand why it's so deeply amazing/troubling.

intro : part 1: part 2 : part 3 : part 4 : part 5 : part 6 : part 7 : part 8 : engrish : storesigns : poo : links