A night in Itaewon...

Oh Itaewon.

This area of Seoul was once geared exclusively to the foreign crowd, but in recent time has seen a rise in Korean inhabitants, businesses and anyone looking for a wild night. It's located across the Han river from where I am (southeast Seoul) and it flows west and empties into the Yellow Sea. As you know, the Yellow Sea is east of China and south of North Korea. It's a huge river and I already have a great story to write about it. Hopefully I'll get to it today.

It was rumored that we were going to go to Itaewon and honeslty I wasn't too thrilled. Kristin had done some research on Seoul prior to my departure and read that it's not a place to go because of all the obnoxious foreigners. She was right about the obnoxious foreigners, but wrong that it's not a place to go. The only thing I didn't like about it was all the US Military personnel, but they have to go somewhere right?

So we walked over to Rhetts place as usual. It looks as though his place is the central meeting point. Aaron and Mike also live close and there is a great roof we sit on and grill out. It also has a great view of the city. I've never lived in a city before, let alone a huge city like this, and I am shocked by the beauty of it. I never thought I would say that and during the day it's different, but when those stars come up and the moon lights up the Asian sky, I can't help it. It's gorgeous. I've never seen the moon reflect so beautifully in a city. The way that the buildings project the light to the streets below is just incredible. I imagine I'll be writing a lot about this city's beauty as time goes by.

So the six of us get into a cab, split up three in each and are on our way to the obnoxious foreign district. I decided I'd tell the cab driver where we were going.

"Itaewon." I said with confidence.

He gazed at me with a grimace. The kind of look that I'll be getting a lot here. It's the look of confusion. Did I say something wrong? I looked to Aaron and Gina with wide eyes hoping they'd chime in and help. They didn't though. They wanted to see me struggle a little bit, and I was fine with that. Then I remembered that you must put a "yo" after you say pretty much anything here. It's the respectful thing to do. It's like a please, or a sir.

So I fired back with confidence, "Itaewon-yo."

He nodded his head and repeated what I said but with the trademark Korean "oh" before. I nodded back to him and we were off.

It was late in the evening when we got started, but you wouldn't have known it. Traffic, both pedestrian and automobile, swallowed the taxi. Imagine a big game at Neyland Stadium when everyone is walking in or out of the stadium before or after the game and then you have an idea of what it's like here. This was only a few minutes from my door too. People were shopping, eating, drinking and doing anything else they could do on the streets. It was wild. The driver maintained his cool and even though cars, people and scooters were darting in front of him he never raised his voice or even honked. He just calmly drove, inhaling is long thin Korean brand cigarette all the way down to the butt, throwing it out at about the same time I recognized the familiar smell of a burning filter. He lit another one immediately.

We made it across the bridge and approached our destination which happened to be a Poncho's Mexican restaurant. (Don't get excited Memphis folk, it's not the chain. By the way, Mom, I didn't get a Cheesy Weenie Fun Cup.)

"Yeogi-yo!" shouted Aaron. (That means "here".)

We had almost past the restaurant and gone into heavy traffic. I looked at the what we owed. It was W 2100. That's only two dollars and ten cents. I couldn't believe it, so I asked Gina how this is possible. She gave me that trademark phrase, "This is Korea..." And with that I understood. In case your wondering though, the base rate in a cab is one dollar and twenty cents and it takes awhile for it to go up from there.

I'll admit it, I was excited about Pancho's. I wanted the cheese dip and all sorts of things I was accustomed to at the Mexican places back in the States. We walked up the stairs and entered the dark smoke-filled restaurant. The music caught my attention right away. It was The Buena Vista Social Club, a great Latino band of our time. The song was the Chan Chan. We were directed to our table which was right next to the bar. Behind the rows of American Whiskey and Tequila were two televisions that were turned to the the Armed Forces Network (AFN). This is the station that that plays all American shows. It was playing Friends. I had seen the episode before, but still enjoyed seeing familiar faces. All of a sudden the televisions were turned off and the music was turned up. One of the male employees, a Latino and possibly even Mexican, cleared a little room for himself. We all knew what was coming. This guy had greasy hair that was slicked back and a tight pair of worn out blue jeans. The music took him over and he went wild on that impromptu dance floor. He moved his hips to the beat while clapping his hands almost frantically. He went from table to table trying to convince the women to get up and dance with him. No one did and I felt sort of bad for him. I don't blame the women though, he was creepy. When he saw that this wasn't working he tried to get the men with women to assist him. He tried a few tables, got no takers and retired to his post behind the bar. The music was turned down and the televisions turned back on.

The menu was so limited that I got a burger. It wasn't bad, but I wouldn't do it again. I asked the others if they enjoyed their meals. No one did. We drank a pitcher and decided to go to another bar. Poncho's will not be at the top of my list in Itaewon.

As we left I noticed two GI's walking into Poncho's. They were in uniform. I asked Rhett why and he told me they go from bar to bar making sure no soldiers were still there. Then I realized that they have curfews and have to be in at 11pm on the weeknight's and 1am on the weekend.

"So that's why we didn't come out until now." I said jokingly.

Rhett looked back at me and said, "You got it."

We walked down the road for a couple minutes then made an abrupt turn straight up a long dark hill. I assumed there was a neat bar up there, so I didn't think anything about it. As we made our way up there we passed a couple dance clubs, at which there were two very large black men working as bouncers outside the door. They were the only black guys that I had seen since I'd been here and still are the only black guys I've seen here. We walked on and then there was an influx of GI's and scantily dressed Korean women congregated outside some small bar-like businesses. I guess the curfew inspectors hadn't made their way there yet. Can you guess where we were? That's right, outside of the mini red light district. There were about fifteen or so brothels along that road. It was odd. The woman wore very tight vinyl clothing and their skirts were so short that you could hardly see them. They would approach real quickly and say something I couldn't understand. I didn't want to get too close to them. To their defense, drugs are not a problem in Korea. People simply don't use them like they do in the West. These prostitutes did not look unhealthy, they were not street-walkers and did not do it to support a drug habit. Still, it was creepy and we continued up the road and eventually down a large flight of stairs where we met the main road again.

We ended up at The Rocky Mountain Bar. It was a small two-floor bar filled with Canadian and America teachers. There we drank Western beer and played great drinking games. It was nice to be playing the same games here as I do at home with my friends. We played Drunken Jenga, Circle of Death and even a little beer bong. We have also played flip-cup here, but that is another story. I met people from Quebec, Ohio, Idaho, Florida and Michigan, just to name a few. The female English teachers here do not date the Korean men. The male teachers date the Korean woman, but never the other way. With that in mind, you can imagine how happy the female teachers get when they see an English teacher. Some of them were good-looking at that bar, but the typical female English teacher is an overweight Canadian. Don't worry about it though, I'll be figure something out.

So we stayed there until the wee hours of the night, made our way home without incident and went to bed with the plan to go on the Han River in the morning. That post will come next though...