Shopping and rain

Daegu, , ,

I went shopping the other day. So far in Korea, I haven’t really ventured further than my corner store, a little superette-type place down the road and the bakeries (there are three different Paris Baguette stores within easy walking distance of my flat, one on the way from the bus stop home). On Wednesday, I decided that it was time to venture a little further. Also, I had run out of paper and not having paper is a problem. So I headed down the road to have a look around. It looked like rain so I took an umbrella. I’ve been using an umbrella belonging to my boss since I got here – which he very kindly lent me on the first day, as soon as he discovered that I didn’t have one. It’s a little cumbersome but the promise of rain here tends to be fulfilled, so I took it anyway.

First stop was the department store. I have known that the store was there since soon after I arrived. It’s a large, pale pink, multi-storey monstrosity that says it is a department store (in English). Also the bus stop where I get the bus for work every day is just outside. I was particularly interested because I’m not particularly familiar with the department store concept. It’s something that never really took off in South Africa. I spent a little time wandering around trying to find the right entrance. Eventually I found an entrance and decided I should just go in there. I’m used to shops that clearly indicate where you should go in with large signs and security guards. This is a just a foyer area leading directly onto the make-up and perfume floor, usually hidden in South African stores behind other clothes and several more security people. Once inside, I was unsure of what do to next, so I headed directly for the elevator – following the woman in front of me. At the top of the escalator was a reassuringly English sign saying ‘youth casual’. I figured that probably didn’t apply to me so I headed up another floor and found the ladies’-wear floor, containing a staggering number of areas of clothes and shoes and handbags, each dedicated to a different designer or brand. I saw a name that looked vaguely familiar (Benneton, I think) and slipped quickly between rows of exquisite (and expensive-looking) shirts and jackets to look around – and attempt to blend in. I’m also looking for a pair of open sandals to wear in the oppressive heat and a handbag that is slightly more water-proof and a little less hippie-looking than mine, so there was method to the madness. Wandering around that floor for a while, I found myself somewhat disappointed. I didn’t actually try anything on, or even look at sizes, but every single item of clothing I saw seemed to be adorned with frills and lacy bits and odd patterns. I tend to wear fairly plain clothes, choosing to make an impression with colour rather than frills, so the idea that I might not be able to find anything here that isn’t frilly doesn’t thrill me. I wondered, vaguely and fleetingly, if it might have something to do with different body shapes – Korean women tend to be shorter, for example.

After a while, I headed up another level and found the ladies formal and work-wear floor, most of which seemed, to be honest, to be more of the same. Except for one thing that caught my eye – a stunning, shapely little black cocktail dress that I would love to own, in the M&S section, weirdly. It really is pretty and I may well just go back and see if it’s still there once I get paid. Until then (and possibly after then – I haven’t actually done the conversions yet) it is a little more than I’m willing to spend on a dress that I don’t currently have any opportunity to wear at 99,000 won. Sometimes I feel a little as if I’m living in Zim-currency-hell here. I also meandered onto the men’s- and golf-wear floor. At first I misread the sign and thought it said men’s golf wear, so I was a little surprised to see suits. Visions of South Korean men (and women once I saw the mannequins) wandering golf courses in suits. It appears women have two floors (excluding the youth floor) but men only get half a floor. Definitely gender discrimination right there. There is also a floor of house stuff – linen, fine china, cutlery and appliances. I may be visiting there soon. I currently have a non-fitted sheet for my bed and it’s beginning to drive me mad.

After wandering around looking (I’m sure) completely lost for a while, I decided to head out. I did find a music, movies, toys and kiddies’ books and clothes floor but couldn’t seem to find an exam pad. One of the greatest frustrations of being in a completely foreign place is not knowing where to find ordinary things. I’m used to having a stationers just down the road or at the nearest mall for the more complicated and high-quality stationary and, really, being able to get pretty much anything else at the supermarket. It appears they don’t have those kinds of supermarkets here. Or at least I haven’t found any yet. The ones they do have resemble far more closely 7-11 Friendlys than Pick ‘n Pays. Although, I think even the Friendlys in SA stock paper and pens.

On my way out of the shop, I looked around the sale section on the first floor and was hugely disheartened because all of the shoes and bags were, frankly, unattractive. I don’t ask a lot of shoes and bags – just that they’re functional and at least a little bit attractive. And plain – less of the buttons and bows is preferable. I’m hoping I was just overwhelmed and there really are some pretty ones here. There is also a Body Shop section. A little odd for Body Shop to be lumped in with Gucci and all the Yardleys and Revlons, but good to know they’re around – at least they’re familiar. On the way out of the door, in the foyer area, there was a table filled with umbrellas and a sales-girl (seriously, she must still be in high-school) trying to sell them. I was already carrying an umbrella but it’s a terribly large and clumsy one, so I stopped to have a look. The sales-person was quick to see a potential sale and rushed to show me a purple one with spots on it, which I assume she thought would suit me. I would have preferred something a little less… well… girly, but I just didn’t have the language to argue with her and it is one of those wonderfully convenient umbrellas that folds up to fit into a handbag, so I simply asked her to show me how big it was when opened (with gestures and facial expressions – but she got it) and then decided I’d take it. At which point, I wondered how to ask how much it cost. She must have noticed my confusion because she showed me a nice, clear label with the price (in numbers I could understand) and then took my money right there. So I now have a nice, lilac-purple, spotty umbrella, which fits snugly into my handbag.

On the way home, in desperation because I really do like to have paper to write on, I stopped into a little shop literally three doors down the road. I’ve noticed it before and it has things like picture books and paint and crinkle-paper so I thought I’d check it out, on the off-chance that they were a stationers, as well as a kids’-pocket-money-spending/art-supply place (they are across the road from an elementary school and a middle school and next door to a one-room after-school art academy). They certainly didn’t have a huge collection but I was (finally) able to find a book with blank pages. So, I now have paper to write on. I was helped by a sweet, if rather overenthusiastic, older lady who doesn’t speak a word of English. As I don’t speak a word of Korean, and I really didn’t understand her gestures, I wasn’t quite sure how we’d manage. I looked around at one point for a till (because it’s normally easiest to take the thing you’re buying to a till where they can ring it up and then look at the numbers) and saw with dismay that there wasn’t one. The book also didn’t have a price on it. Eventually I just opened my wallet and she must have understood because she pointed to a 1000 won note and nodded emphatically. Somewhat relieved, I headed home.

In the past two days, I’ve used the book plenty and been quite glad that I did buy a convenient and useful umbrella. It’s been raining a lot. On both Thursday and Friday mornings, it looked exactly like a cold, miserable Cape Town Winter morning – complete with rain alternating between beating down and drizzling and clouds drooping over the mountains like a teenage rapper’s jeans. It has been exactly the kind of weather that makes you want to do nothing but curl up on the couch with a book and a blanket and a good glass of rich, spicy red wine. I’ve spent many hours (while the kids are completing tasks) watching the rain fall outside my classroom window.

The only problem with this situation is that it’s also hot. It’s the kind of overpowering, all-consuming warm weather that fills me with the desire to spend marvellous afternoons drinking ice-cold beer in pretty beer gardens. Which results in some instinct-collision: I keep finding myself longing to curl up under a blanket with an ice-cold beer, or to sit in a beautiful beer garden with a glass of red wine and a book. It is very confusing.

I’m hoping next week might be a little lighter on the rain. I’m currently working mornings instead of evenings (much to my chagrin) because the kids are on summer vacation. This means that some days I’m done by early afternoon, providing lots of time to wander around and explore a little. I am even considering, if I have the time and inclination, trying to find my way to Downtown, where sock and shoe streets are apparently located. Assuming it doesn’t keep raining. And that I’m not suddenly told I’m teaching more classes.

Saturday, a university and the subway

Daegu,

Just over a week in a new place and the sheen of newness is starting to fade. On the bus-trip home today I found my mind wandering to what I’d have for supper, instead of staring with the usual rapt attention at the passing scenery. Although this may have had something to do with the rather exhausting day I’d had.

I spent today on the campus of Keimyung University. I always find University campuses somewhat magical places. Not necessarily because they’re magically beautiful, although many of them are, but because they always seem a little like a place out of time – as though the real world cannot reach the many students who are immersed there in learning and living, a real … well, ivory tower, I suppose. This campus is particularly beautiful. Red facebrick buildings, overgrown with ivy, scattered between fir trees and stretching up the hills into the forest. We even had lunch in the cafeteria. Sitting outside, as we were leaving lunch, was student, so clearly a student, sitting chatting with friends with an Arsenal jersey and a cigarette – like any other student, anywhere in the world.

I was on the campus to do some extra teaching at an intensive English camp for elementary school learners. It’s the first time I’ve worked with young learners since I got here, and the first time I’ve ever worked with learners who have very, very little English (most only started English this year), so it was a little nerve-wracking, but it seemed to go fairly well. I spent several busy hours teaching kiddies about shapes, pets and vegetables. It was also rather exhausting. I stayed after I’d taught my three classes to watch their little play for the parents and was also, accidentally, roped into singing with the kids at the end. I imagine this is the kind of thing I may have to get used to. Luckily it was a song I used to sing a very long time ago in primary school and also that I seldom forget the words of songs, so that I didn’t make a complete fool of myself singing. The Singing and Chant teacher (an actual class that is part of the camp) was very complimentary. Still, in spite of many, many 7 to 12 year-olds, being on a peaceful university campus was a refreshing break from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The day also include one wholly new experience. I took today, for the first time every, the subway. Not just the first time in Korea. I’ve never spent a significant amount of time in a country that has a subway system and South Africa’s first one is still in the process of being built. I was very nervous about figuring out how subways work, particularly in a place that doesn’t use the English alphabet. Once I wandered down the (many) stairs, however, I found signs in both English and Korean, so it turned out not to be all that difficult to navigate. The trains are very modern and swish, with rows of seats along either side and open space for standing in the middle. It wasn’t too busy, on a random Saturday afternoon, and I got on at one of the first stops on the line, so I was able to find an empty seat without too much trouble.

Daegu has two subway lines, the red line (line 1) and the green line (line 2). I was taking the green line and there were 16 stations between where I got on and my stop. It turns out (thankfully) that the announcements  on the train are repeated in English, so I managed not to miss my station. I had a moment of panic when I tried to leave the platform and the barrier wouldn’t let me through, until a very kind Korean lady showed me (with no words whatsoever) that I had to place my transport card (provided by the school and works on buses, trains and possibly phones) upside down on the card-reader. At that point, I was lost. It appears the station I got off at – the station closest to my office – has 5 different exits. After various twists and turns, down staircases and up escalators, I was a little disoriented but I took the one I thought was most likely to be the right one and headed towards ground level. As it turned out, it was the wrong one, but was just around the corner from the bus stop I was headed for, so not too much of a crisis.

I also discovered, less happily, that this is another form of transport that can bring on that lingering, vague nausea that comes from motion sickness. It may just be a combination of nerves, exhaustion and very slight claustrophobia (because I know that I’m underground), but the subway didn’t make me feel wonderful. Or perhaps the aircon system was just malfunctioning and that’s why it made me feel a little off-colour. I was glad to reach the fresh(ish) air of solid ground-level and head for the now-very-familiar bus-stop outside the Fashion-Exchange.

The University is quite far away – literally on the other side of the city. An hour after leaving the University, I eventually arrived back in my neighbourhood. On the way home, I stopped in at the local bakery, a Paris Baguette (of course). Today is the first time I’ve really discovered the bakeries and they’re fabulous. I realise this adventure should definitely include some Korean food at some point, but it’s good to know there is a place where I can get fresh-baked white bread, sweet rolls, croissants and exquisite-looking cakes. I also picked up something for supper – pizza topping on a baguette, which was yummy.

It’s been a long day after a late night, but I have now visited a Korean university, taught little children who can’t speak English, used the subway system and tried out the local bakery, so all in all a fairly productive one.

I go walking…

Daegu

One of the things about city living which differs from small towns is that in the city one generally has two bases of operation, home and work. I was technically supposed to be living within walking distance of the school, but I’ve ended up in the suburbs, a bus-ride away from the school.

This does have the advantage that I get to know two parts of the city whether or not I want to. I spent some time over the weekend walking around the area where I live – although there is far too much of it get to know in just one walk. Today was a light day at work, so I decided to try to get to know the area around the office a little. I work in a business area, on the 5th floor of a building that has a little shop/market (complete with vegetables and fresh fish spilling onto the pavement) on the ground floor. All the other floors seem to be filled with English language academies – private, after-school english teaching schools.

When I first took the bus to work, I was terrified that I would miss the stop and end up completely lost in a strange city. I’d only seen the place once and the building is not all that different from the many other neon-lit buildings around it, so the fear wasn’t completely unreasonable. Luckily there is one VERY distinctive building – The Fashion Exchange.

Daegu is apparently famous for it’s fashion industry and is described in the guide book as ‘the self-proclaimed capital of Korean fashion’.The Fashion Exchange is an experience all on it’s own. Many, many of the buildings in this city are lit up with bright neon signs in garish colours. This building is a multi-story, rectangular building that is covered on all sides with round things that look a little like the inside of tyres, under glass. Or thick plastic of some sort. These rings are actually lights and the show starts when it gets dark and each of the rings lights up. They start out white, which is pretty spectacular to begin with. And then the whole lot of them start to change colour. And sometimes some of them switch between colours, so that the building flashes between different colours in a wild lights show. Combined with the Korean pop and the icy blasts of air-conditioned air flowing from the doors, the place is something like a whole-building disco, on the outside at least.

The bus stop is directly outside the Fashion Exchange, so there will be plenty of time to enjoy the strangeness of it while I’m waiting for buses in the evening. Between the bus stop and the school (about a block) is a fascinating variety of shops. These include ‘Colon Sports’ and an ‘Athlete’s Foot’, as well as a ‘North Face’ I’m sure I’ll be patronising once winter gets a little cooler. This strip, on either side of the road, and a little further on the other side of the school, also includes an interesting range of Golf shops – like Elle Golf. They seem to be ladies golfing clothes shops. A new one on me.

On the pavements around these shops are sellers of vegetables. They sit, little old ladies and men, in clusters, sorting their herbs and vegetables, and rearranging things and tidying up, and chatting and laughing in the evening light. There is a fish-monger on the pavement, too. In fact, between the fish monger on one side and the vegetables on the other, I glimpsed what I think might be a larger, covered market, beckoning with new and exciting smells and tastes. I will have to explore further some time soon.

Tonight is the first night I’ve taken the bus home. On most nights, I finish after 11pm, by which time the buses have apparently stopped running, so someone from the school gives me a lift home. But today I finished before 9pm. I wandered up the road to the bus-stop and waited with everyone else for the bus. I’m still starting to get used to the idea that the streets and buses are as busy here in the evenings as they are during the day. There are even school children, in school uniform, catching buses and walking along roads at 9 in the evening. When I got off the bus in my neighbourhood, I found myself walking along pavements even more full of people and street-vendors and vegetable sellers than in the afternoon.

I also found the Starbucks. Not that I’m enamoured of the idea of Starbucks, but always good to prove the guidebook’s prophecies of ‘a Starbucks on every corner’ right. I was also feeling peckish, so I even wandered into the KFC but I have to admit that the advert near the door for a shrimp-zinger burger scared me off a little. I skipped the chicken (or shrimp) and headed home, only stopping at the little cafe/supermarket on the corner near my flat for some essentials on the way.

It’s definitely going to take me a while to get used to the idea that it is perfectly safe to walk alone at night but knowing that everyone else – from school children to old ladies – is also out and about helps. Even if I do still constantly pay attention to everyone else on the road and make a point of keeping a firm hold on my bag.