Seoul - Day 1
Novel and terrifying
Landing (Day 0)
I landed in Seoul at 9:30PM. Coincidentally, I met a few college friends on my plane and we travelled into the city together. I recall chatting with them on the train and catching up on life, but also talking about the trips we were about to embark on.
They were only in Seoul for a couple of days, using it as a passage to eventually visit the rest of Asia and see friends and family. I, on the other hand, was about to be completely alone for the first time in my life after getting off a stop before them. I expressed to my friend my anxiety, to which we had a short conversation about. I watched as the train got a stop closer every few minutes, and eventually we arrived at my stop. The doors opened, we said a goodbye, and I walked in a random direction because I didn’t know which one was right.
Eventually I found my exist at Hongik University station and climbed the stairs into the outside world. Upon leaving, I saw a taxi right in front of me which I could have used to get home without having to carry my bags. I stared at it for about 30 seconds, and decided it would be more fun to lug my two gigantic suitcases for twenty minutes trying to find my apartment because it would “build more lore”.
Indeed it did. I smelled the familiar-but-slightly-foul scent of Seoul (which, according to this Reddit thread, is sewage?) and felt nostalgic to my last visit. Walking through the streets late at night, I tried to read the Hangeul (한글) on the shining signs around me, and watched as the many couples strolled around Gyeongui Forest Park, wearing matching outfits and locking arms. I began to giggle, for equally exciting and anxious reasons, asking why my past self decided to put me into this situation.
The walk was dynamic. I walked across flat concrete, bricks, sand and even some turf, all on a series of about three sidewalks. This made it quite annoying to carry my two gigantic suitcases.
Eventually, I reached the backstreets of my neighborhood, carrying my bag as to not make any noise or disrupt anyone’s sleep. It had not yet occurred to me that the motorcycles passing by were much louder than my suitcase against the concrete could possibly have been and that all I accomplished was giving myself a forearm workout.
Upon arriving at my building, I set my suitcases down which was relieving to my arms. I had absolutely no idea how to open the door. I checked my AirBnb chat with my host and misread the instructions, inputting the incorrect passcode into the number pad at least 5 times before walking around the building and realizing I just had the wrong door code.
I finally found my apartment after taking the elevator. My apartment didn’t have a lock like in North America, rather another number pad with very satisfying sound effects. I entered them and listened to the fun unlock sound before opening the door to my aparmtent.
It was a hot night outside and I was sweating from carrying my suitcase, so I was looking forward to entering an air-conditioned apartment. Unfortunately, it turned out to be quite the opposite. I was hit with a massive blast of heat upon entering, to which I soon discovered was because the heater was on and the air conditioning was off. I figured out how to turn on the air conditioning and explored the tiny studio I was about to call home for the month.
It was tiny. There wasn’t a real closet, no storage the kitchen was small, and my balcony was larger than the apartment for some reason. It did have a queen bed, which was a relief because I am very tall. I realized that with my budget I perhaps should have opted for a nicer apartment in a more modern part of the city, and I started to feel anxious as to how I was going to live in such a small place.
Quickly, I snapped out of it as I realized the alternative interpretation of my situation: I could learn that I actually probably need very little to live! Armed with my positive new perspective, I started unpacking my suitcases and went to sleep at about 2am.
Day 1
Despite sleeping at 2am, I woke up naturally, checked my phone, and read “5:30”. Either I just slept 3.5 hours or I somehow slept into the evening. I was completely convinced it had to be the latter, but after Googling the time it ended up being the former. My apartment gets a lot of natural night, and so my body was woken up. I ended up sleeping on and off for another 4 hours and got out of bed at 9:30.
I got ready for the day and picked an outfit. As I neared leaving my apartment, I became increasingly nervous about stepping into a completely foreign environment. I knew nobody and I sucked at the language, so I knew I was going to have nobody to talk to for the day.
After getting dressed and doing my hair and skincare, I took a seat in a stool by the small dining table next to my bed and worked on mustering the courage to leave my apartment. This was an extremely strange feeling to me. I had left many apartments many times all around the world - why did it feel so different now?
I put my shoes on in the foyer, and left the apartment building with my bag. I decided an easy introduction would be to get a bit of work done. I walked around my neighbourhood in search of a café.
Eventually, after crossing a few streets, I found a cafe with the wall open to the street which I thought was a cool concept. I walked past it, saw some people inside, and became scared that I was about to try and order coffee in a language I was not good at speaking. I recall feeling tempted to continue walking rather than face my fears - as if a barrier stood between my and a latte.
I decided that eventually I was going to do this anyways, so I might as well doing it anyways. I turned, walked into the shop, greeted the barista and ordered my latte. It turned out to be quite smooth! I just didn’t know the term for “for here” vs “to go”, which she made very clear with her hand signals. It was by no means an awkward experience, which made me feel much more confident.
I turned around and saw a few available seats. The store was small and contained a mix of tables and leather couches. A group of young Koreans sat at the table on the other end of the café, and to the right of them was a table suitable for a single person right by the open wall. I placed by bag on the table and took my laptop out. I noticed my hand shaking while putting it down. I still felt extremely uncomfortable - as if everyone in the room was watching me. I could not place a finger on why I felt this way, but I did feel as though I stood out.
While opening my laptop and frantically trying to figure out the Wifi password, I heard someone call out for an iced latte behind me. I turned around and walked up to the counter to grab my latte, and the barista kindly explained the Wifi password to me in Korean. I understood nothing she said but the details were on the receipt, so I nodded along pretending to understand and took my drink to my table.
It was an extremely awkward work session. I made sure not to do anything frantic as to not be noticed by anyone around me. I had no reason to feel awkward. The group (now to my left) was chatting just as they were when I entered the store. The barista was hanging out on her phone, and groups of people occasionally walked by. Nobody paid me any attention, but I sat with a closed posture in the seat and did my work for a few hours.
After completing the work, I was sweating profusely (mix of heat and discomfort) and decided to head home. The air conditioner hadn’t kicked in very much overnight, and before leaving I turned the fan up and the heat down, so I was excited to cool down.
While walking, it became clear just how much I’ve depended on other people my entire life to be an outing. I’ve filled almost all of my time with presence of others as opposed to being alone, and that when I didn’t have people around me, I could immerse myself in my work for the entire day to distract myself from my thoughts. Here, I had neither people nor the arrangement to spend a full day working. I was forced into my rawest, most insecure form.
I left my apartment and ventured into Hongdae to check out some clothing stores. I purchased a couple of t-shirts from Musinsa Standard, and seeing as it was 2:30pm and I hadn’t had anything to eat out of fear of ordering food, I decided now would be a good time to finally eat.
I found a Kimbap restaurant I had saved a few days prior to leaving for Korea and decided to check it out. I entered the restaurant and saw an ordering kiosk to my right, and scanned for an available seat. I ordered what looked like a good combo meal, and grabbed a table for one in the corner of the restaurant next to a loud group of Koreans and foreigners speaking a mix of English and Korean.
I had never solo-dined before this, and upon walking to my seat felt an extreme sense of awkwardness. Was I supposed to just sit there and stare at the wall? Use my phone? What do I even do? While this was happening, I listened to the group laughing and joking, much too nervous to interject but extremely envious of the fun they seemed to be having.
I glanced at the table to the right and noticed they had some banchan (Korean side dishes). I saw a self-serve station which I had seen in Korea before. I made a few banchan dishes for myself, being wary not to drop anything or make any mistakes, for if I did the great social repercussion gods would rain hell down on me. I observed my hands shaking while picking up some kimchi with a pair of tongs. This was the most awkward experience I had ever felt, and it had no reason to be awkward.
I took a seat with my banchan and a small cup of water, waiting for my food. I peered over to the group a few times to observe their conversation and vibe, and eventually someone brought my food over and opened up a drawer to the right of the table so I could grab my cutlery.
I grabbed some metal chopsticks and a spoon, and while eating my Kimbap and cold noodle soup, my hands were shaking intensely from the nervousness. I had never felt this nervous before in a social setting. Finding myself eating completely alone in a country where I knew almost nobody was an incredibly awkward feeling. Despite the strange feeling, the food was delicious and comforting. Someone soon took a table at the opposite corner in front of me - a fellow solo diner. This brought some comfort to my situation.
Once done, I decided to visit Hongdae’s main shopping street. While walking with my headphones in, I heard someone say something that sounded like an “excuse me”. I stopped, turned back, and a Korean woman who looked around my age stopped me and started talking to me. Apparently she thought my side profile looked Korean. I quickly became suspicious as I had heard of the religious cults that prey on foreigners in Korea, and that it is not very common for people to randomly chat with each other (small talk does not exist like it does in North America).
I answered a couple of her introductory questions, and then started prying to check if she was suspicious - first asking if she was religious (to which she said no) and then directly asking her about the cults. Perhaps it is obvious a cultist would deny that they are in a cult…
Aside: I ended up doing a WAY too much research on my interaction with her to determine whether she was ill-intentioned or not. More on this is in tomorrow’s post.
She mentioned to me she was in the area and going to meet friends in a few hours, and that she was searching for a cafe street in Hongdae. I mentioned to her that I was also headed to a cafe, and that we could check out the cafe street together. She agreed and we started walking.
This, to me, was an absolute godsend. As an extrovert, I rely on social interaction for a lot of my energy. When I am alone, I feel isolated and quickly get depressed. I was certainly in a vulnerable state at this point, but decided that whether or not I talked to her again, it was wonderful to be able to hang out with a local.
We had a lovely hangout! We went to a cute cafe for drinks and some desserts. She was very kind and answered my many questions about Korea, and was a good conversationalist. I enjoyed listening to her speaking a mix of English and Korean in the same sentence, which I thought would be good practice for myself later on. We chatted for over an hour, and she then took me on a walk and showed me around a lovely path covered with trees, cafes and restaurants. We talked about all sorts of things and wound up hanging out for two hours, exchanging Kakaotalks before she taught me how friends in Korea say goodbye. She recommended I visit Yeonnam and we said our goodbyes.
I walked away slightly suspicious, but grateful that I had such a lovely conversation with someone. I visited a restaurant in Yeonnam in a beautiful back-alley that specialized in a cold noodle soup with raw salmon dish. It was my second time solo-dining that day, but this time I felt much more secure and less awkward. I did have a hard time calling the waiters over to pay the bill, but ended up mustering some courage and walking up to them to pay.
After eating, I took a slow walk home, feeling incredibly thankful for the woman I had met earlier in the day. She caught me in the midst of the strongest anxiety I’ve felt in years. Our conversation calmed me down and gave me the confidence to give the next day a proper shot.
A few musings from the day:
Despite being extroverted, I am not magical nor immune to awkwardness.
I do not know how to be alone or enjoy my own company
I use people as an outing to the point of dependance on social stimulation to stay happy and comfortable
A person can come in at the right time and make your day a lot better. Luck does indeed exist in ways that are hard to predict
I realized I was definitely going to grow in ways that I would not have if I had not solo travelled
My intense discomfort re-affirmed my belief of the importance of this trip
Cold noodles are awesome