As I write this a huge swell of relief is making me want to hug the next random Korean I see, although the guy next to me is far too busy killing wild boars in World of Warcraft. He would not appreciate me disrupting his stat building. I just received news that I have passed my medical test, so I will thus not be deported out of the country. Although a little part of me.... well quite a large part of me was rather interested in how I would be deported. Would I be accompanied by a government official all the way to the airport, whilst I attempted at small talk? "Your country is very nice", "I like your uniform. Is it hot to wear?" "Why aren't you smiling? I'm a nice guy really", "Do you accept bribes?"
Anyway, I had my first big weekend out, involving the usual suspects of drinking, dancing and general dumbness. Something I have been looking forward too, but had to wait until some friends came to town on Friday and Saturday. One arrived at 1am at Seoul Station on the KTX, Korea's bullet train that can span the whole country in about two hours. Needless to say, a full and detailed write-up on said train will arrive when I have rode it. That Friday night ended with a peculiarity that can work here but would not function back at home. Around Seoul and other cities there are usually 24/7 convenience stores that has a brilliant twist to the usual "buy and leave" format of corner shop experiences. Here you can buy your beer and sit down outside on the many tables that adorn the exterior. So you can just drink the night away at your local Family Mart, which we did in the extremely warm night. It's a novelty that would clearly be abused by the drinking culture back at home, but works to an endearing degree here.
Saturday usually follows, and along with it another friend, with his girlfriend. We then shared a Korean meal that day, of which not only was it tasty, but bloody cheap. About six pounds between us. Such pricing can get to your head, and so it did with mine. We all finished, and because I have always wanted to say it, I began:
"Put your money away! This one's one me."
"Really? No." Sebastian returned.
"Because I can." However reaching the paying desk, my confidence was completly jacked when we found out that such cheap prices cannot possibly exist. The meal actually cost about twenty pounds. So eating my stupid words in demure fashion, I had to back-track like the fool I ultimately set myself up to become.
"Ah..... Actually guys, could you give me some money?"
Then the night gradually does its job and led us on to stock up on booze and drink in the park, which is not the vulgar pastime you may think it is. It was in the vibrant student district of Hongdae, where the park is full of revellers, fire-poi, food stalls, clubs, restaurants, and plenty of foreigners. One happy chap was pushing around a cart full of alcohol, with a countenance of sheer and manic joy, unnatural really, yet still quite infectious. I suppose he has a reason to be happy, as his business selling drinks to wasted party-goers probably keeps his kids in college. One Korean drink of choice is something called Soju, one of those deceptive drinks that has an alcohol percentage resting in that no-mans land between wine and spirits. So one usually takes a sip of it, then a sip of orange fanta, or some other mixer. It does have a powerful effect on the senses in time, for at one point I recall telling a large American friend, who was with us, that he had "stupid fat American fingers." Not a particularly wise thing to say when you are in a new country trying to make friends. Still I hope he realises that I was in jest. As we walked about the crowds swelled and soon refuge had to be found in one of the clubs. One such club had an incomprehensible flooring system of stepping stones, designed for the specific purpose of making you trip up at every step, an inconvenient addition to my already disorientated efforts at walking. It was not the nicest clubs I've been into, however the next one was a considerable improvement, for the fact that at the height of my dissipation on came Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da and Bizarre Love Triangle. I became very aware that I was having one of those rare clubbing experiences where they played some songs that I actually liked and wanted to dance to. Later on at five in the morning when the growing dawn arrests the eyes with unexpected vigour, and all you want to do is sleep, we still made time for a kebab.
Now at the risk of sounding like an ailing man with too many health concerns; all the eating out, lack of sleep and constant spicy food is playing havoc with my IBS. So I had an uncontrollable desire last night to balance it out with exercise. But where is a man to go and do this? The answer is nowhere. The age of star-jumps to keep fit is still with us my friend, and as I wittled away the night with repeated jumps in my flat, I came-a-thinking that surely this is the way banish away thoughts of unhealthiness and delude yourself with leaps of vain activity.
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