A Writing Journey; That Time in Seoul

The poem I’m going to share with you is one that I classify as a ‘Travel Poem’, as in I wrote it about a place that I have visited that left me with a lasting impression. If you haven’t guessed from the title, this particular poem was written about the time in 2013 when I went to Seoul, South Korea.

While I was at University - Auckland University of Technology (AUT), if you’re interested - I got chosen to travel to our sister University, Namseoul University, near Seoul. It wasn’t just me who was elected; there were four others as well. We were all studying Creative Writing, and our lecturers had picked us.

The reason we were going was because in the Korean summer holidays they run an English course for their students and we were to go for three weeks to help ‘teach’ communicational English. Basically to hang out with some awesome Korean students and chat with them! The whole trip was paid for by Namseoul University. So, of course, I was down for an ‘all expenses paid trip’! This isn’t strictly true, we did spend a weekend in Seoul and paid for that ourselves, but still, the statement stands!

Man did I change my mind about wanting to explore Asia after three weeks in South Korea. I fell in love with it, and we spent most of our time on the University campus! The people were so lovely. The culture is old and fascinating. The food is some of my favourites, Korean BBQ, drool! Now I can’t wait to go back and explore more of South Korea and the rest of the continent as well.

I thought I would share a few of the stories from the three weeks, as they are lightly mentioned in the poem. I hope some of them give you a bit of a giggle like the memories do for me!

During the weekdays we spent our time in the classroom with the eight students who we were tutoring, I’m going to say tutoring over teaching because I don’t feel like teaching is quite right. Most of my students were older than me as I was 20, to be 21 in November. Between the five groups, we ended up creating a bit of a games competition. Before we left New Zealand, we had visited a few English as a Second Language classes to see how they were run and through it learnt some pretty cool games. There was one game in particular that we ALL loved to play, and it always ended up loud, overdramatic and with everyone rolling with laughter. I can’t remember who’s group won overall, but it was a good bit of fun. We did at one point have one of the actual teachers pop their head in and tell us we were too loud!

On the first weekend the University took our students and us into Seoul. We wandered around the shops and tried street foods. They also took us to a Korean Folk Village, where there were rides and a bit of a market. We were meant to stay to watch a traditional Korean wedding, but it was like 40 degrees Celsius, and we were all dying, so it was decided that we wouldn’t stay for it. We ended up in this, I guess, shopping centre/mall, place. It was Sunday. It was insanely busy. I had never been somewhere where there were so many people in a smallish place. Plus it was hot. I was hot and sticky and overwhelmed. I ended up in this weird mood, that was towards anger or stress; I don’t know how to explain it. I was close to crying (but this is nothing odd, to be perfectly honest, whenever I get to the extreme of any emotion I start crying.). Basically, I was just super overwhelmed, and, as you would know from previous posts, I don’t do well in any heat over about 25 degrees Celsius! We were to get our dinner here, and when my ‘students’ asked me what I wanted, I said, “I want a burger.” So they got me a classic hamburger. I took two bites, and all was right in the world again. It’s amazing what food can do!

We had the second weekend to ourselves. The head of Creative Writing and English New Media Studies at AUT had come over, and he showed us around Seoul. We explored Gangnam and a few other areas of Seoul. There is a point when travelling when all you want to eat is pizza, I don’t know why, but it’s true. We had reached this point and so found an Italian restaurant to have our fix of pizza and pasta. I will tell you after two weeks of eating Korean food, wolfing down a pizza or a bowl of carbonara sits a bit weird in your stomach…

There was one time while we were on the metro/subway, I was sitting down, tired from walking all day and the heat. This little old Korean lady was sitting next to me. She reached over and gently stroked my arm and was like, “Oooo!” I just smiled at her. Being someone who is about as white as you can get (who can’t tan at all so is either white or red) with ginger/strawberry blonde/autumnal hair I tend to stand out in most places around the world, but especially in places like South Korea. One of the guys who was with me is a tall ginger-hair kiwi bloke with a ginger beard. On one of our last days I said to him, “James, it’s going to be weird going home. We’re not going to feel like celebrities any more!”

Namseoul University also has a glass-blowing course. I know right how cool! We were given a chance to have a go at it. We made glasses, some glass pendants and decorated another glass. It was super cool. Never thought I would find myself blowing glass. If you ever get the opportunity to have a go, do it. (I'm sorry the pictures aren't that good...)

In our last week at the University, we went down to have dinner, one evening. I will note at this point we were very much at the point of wanting food that we were familiar with and normal to us. Well, this particular night we sat down with our food, went to eat the soup only to have an octopus tentacle appear. We looked at each other and decided that we just couldn’t, we were done. So apologising to the lovely people who made the food in the University mess hall, we abandoned ship and went up the road for fried chicken. It’ll tell you what, fried chicken in South Korea is way better than any I’ve had in New Zealand or the UK!

And the last story I want to share is the most vivid one. The one that comes up whenever I’m asked about being in Seoul. And comes under a ‘classic’ travel experience.

I was lying in bed and could hear this ‘scratchy scratch’ from the ceiling. I thought it was mice, so I grabbed the little broom that was in my room and tapped the ceiling to scare them away. It didn’t work. I decided that I would just ignore it and go to sleep. Next, I could hear it inside the inset ceiling light. Once again, I tapped the ceiling to try and scare it off. It didn’t work.

Still hearing the sound, I looked up. There on the ceiling was something I had never seen before. It was not a mouse, about the size of a mouse, but not a mouse. It was a Rhino Beetle. I stared at it for a minute but was like, I’m just going to ignore it and go to sleep. Yeah… that was never going to happen.

Generally I don’t like bugs, I’m not afraid of them, I just don’t like them. This thing terrified me. It was like something straight out of a nightmare, out of a fantasy story. Deciding that the only way to get to sleep was to get it out of my room, I got up and went about coaxing it off the ceiling, down the blind and on to the windowsill. With a fair bit of panic dancing amid all this, which involves hopping in circles and hand flapping (I’m quite a dramatic person.).

Now it’s on the windowsill. Snapping it’s pincers at me and all but hissing (not sure if my overactive imagination created the hissing but still.). I’m panic dancing again trying to figure how the hell I’m going to get this giant prehistoric beetle thing out of my room.

Note it’s like 1 or 2 in the morning at this point. The dorms that we were staying in are closed with lights out at 10 pm. The only light I have is from my toilet and no way to get outside, no windows that can open. I had bought myself a small tub of M&Ms ice cream that day. So I put the empty container over the Rhino Beetle. I panicked a bit more. Grabbed a magazine, I’d been given as a ‘gift’ from H&M, and began to slide it under the container and beetle. More panic dancing.

I wedged open the bedroom door. Carefully picked up the trapped beetle. Ran down the hallway. To the common area. To the rubbish bin. Dumped the whole thing in the bin. Sprinted back down the hall, like it was chasing after me in revenge. Closed and locked the door and jumped back into bed.

Whatever happened to the beetle, I have no idea, but needless to say, I walked past the bin very quickly and nervously the next morning!

On dark, quiet nights I can still hear the scratchy scratch on the ceiling…