| [ freeeXpression ] in KIDS 글 쓴 이(By): capril (재현) 날 짜 (Date): 1994년06월21일(화) 13시47분33초 KDT 제 목(Title): ARM Live-Seoul report #1 From: jem@xpat.postech.ac.kr (John Milburn) POHANG, Korea (MPI): Here is my quick go at the events of last Friday. Other will certainly have seen it differently... Heejo and I flew up from Pohang. I told him that I expect a better turnout than last year, with probably 10 +/- 2 people. We took a 4:40 flight, along with three Japanese visitors who had been to see me. Our flight landed in Seoul, and we waited in line for a taxi. There was a cop keeping order in the traffic line, and I ended up giving him some grief. I should let you all know that I am a smoker. I have even stated, half-seriously (and what could be more serious than half-serious), that the reason I moved from the US to Korea was so that I could smoke in my office. All domestic flights in Korea are non-smoking. I wanted a taxi ride that I could smoke in. When our taxi arrived, I noticed that it had a sign saying that it was non-smoking. I declined to get in, and waited for the next one. The cop controlling the queue couldn't understand at first, and after Heejo explained to him, he just shot this "those damned foreigners" smirk in my direction. No big deal. We didn't really know where to go, only having a vague memory of the directions from Hyunsuk/Dan that the restaurant, Time, was "just across the street" from the Myoung-dong cathedral. We got out of the taxi just in front of the church and started looking around. Suddenly, I recognized this quiet voice calling my name. After the crowd parted, I looked down, and there stood the most diminutive (and still self proclaimed) net.god we were to meet that evening, Mr. "number 25 of the top 25 law schools in America/Tea, Earl Grey, hot/under 25 and still trying to pretend he is ethical/I'm still trying to figure out what Frungy is" Tae Hyun Brian Chung. Brian had apparently been wandering around lost for hours. We took him under our wing, and set off on our quest together. This restaurant turned out to be non-trivial to locate. The shop owners in the area had no idea where it was. In a decidedly un-Korean move, we even stopped and asked for directions. We called directory information at the phone company, which usually knows everything. They had no listing for a place called "Time" in Myoung-dong. Finally, as despair was setting in, we asked at a pharmacy, who did know of it. When in doubt, rely on your druggist. We entered. Four were already present, Dan Paik, the ersatz host (or relative of the owner of the restaurant) from Berkeley, Henry Chon, sans teddy and purple bra, from Georgetown, Bumsoo, just smiling and being suspiciously pleasant, from UPenn, and Hang-Joon Choi, the ROM (read only monicans) representative from Kaist. Since, with seven people present, we figured that we constituted a quorum, we decided to begin drinking. First however, we had to get our name tags filled out, and discuss all of our pet theories about who Monica really is/was. Just as we finished those tasks, and before we could get the bottle opened, some old feller with a camera walked in. Yes, indeed, it was the (in)famous non-smoking, non-drinking, non-wooing, non-triple-dotting phantom of the vapor-musical, net.god #2 James "Hyung Joon hyung" Choi, thankfully without a guitar. He sat down, reserving the potted plant stand next to him for the eventual arrival of the demur Ginsu wielding beauty from Columbia, who entered as if on cue. At that point, the drinking could start in earnest, even though I think none of us really grasp the importance of being earnest, or anything about Oscar Wilde, whatsoever. The small table we were at was getting crowded, so we started to migrate. Sometime during the migration, and requisite battles over seating arrangements, Kyong Lee (not from one of the top 25 law schools) and Sam Jung (an almost lurker who definitely, absolutely, certainly is *not* illegally teaching English in Seoul, no siree) arrived. With Kyong there, the whiskey was soon gone. We had to start in on the beer. Poor Andy T., the whiskey was for him as much as anyone, but his poor ability to discern locations cost him. The conversations and thinking processes were becoming fractured. James had yet to take any pictures. The techno-traitor was remarkably subdued. Then, as we were all about to give them up as no shows, Hyunsuk arrived, with the net.goddess, reason for our existence, and object of our worship, Monica herself, on his arm. The roar of the crowd was overwhelming. Nuff' said. As it was past 8, we went ahead and ordered. Just then, we caught the glimpse of a reflection from downstairs. A bright forehead, with his better half, topped the stairs, and joined our group. It was that disposable diaper toting "Q" man himself, Andy T Kim, with his amazingly lovely and charming wife, Linda. She has enough hair for the both of them, and it was all standing on end. Linda was more than a little miffed that it had taken Andy more than 30 minutes to find the place, after parking the car. Clearly, Andy is not fully Americanized, as he seems genetically unable to ask for directions. We were now 15, and ready to eat. The food was soon delivered. However, for Andy, Linda, and I, it came with utensils. We were so wrapped up in the various conversations zipping around the tables, that we didn't notice right away. It's difficult to concentrate on eating when you are discussing the finer points of horse shampoo. After Heejo finished his soup, I just grabbed his spoon to eat my own. We ate, and drank, and drank some more. When the dinner was finished, it was time to stop the multitudinous conversations, and have a group introduction. Monica, of course, began. Since most of the conversations that evening were in Korean, a language of which I have but the most minor grasp, I am unable to tell you what was said. I was the only token white man of the evening, so spent most of my time just reflecting in my luck and honor to be invited to such a prestigious gathering. I only wish I could understand those obscure "Picard" and "Deep Space 9" and "5 card stud, sky's the limit" references. Silly Koreans. After drinking our fill, it was clearly time a group photo and more drinking. We gathered outside for the photo, but James had disappeared. We took the photo (Will someone send me a copy?). When James finally appeared, he offered the novel suggestion of a groups photo. Raspberries put him in his place. I did take a shot of James and Monica, close together but short of an actual embrace. The Monica has a 10:30 pm curfew, as she is not entirely free of the disciplines heaped upon her during her days at the convent, and was compelled to leave us at that point. Dan, seeing an opportunity, compelled himself to leave us at that point. Somehow, they managed to leave together. Things that make you go "Hmmm..." Surprisingly, I didn't notice Henry put the moves on any of the women. We set off in search of the second place. With Henry and Kyong guiding, it is a wonder that we found anything, but eventually ended up at some basement dive hof. A few pitchers of yeast and hop lubricant, as well as a few bottles of chungha, livened up the mood and conversations. I still don't understand why anyone would imagine that I am an old man with a beard and hermit-like appearance. By midnight, we were compelled to leave. Bumsoo, Sam, and Hang-joon had already left, so as not to miss the last train. Most seemed ready to call it a night, and were under the impression that there was nowhere to drink after twelve. Fools. Linda and Andy had to return home. They claimed that their sick daughter was waiting, but we believe that they were overcome with the excitement of the evening, and couldn't wait to enter into a more private expression of that feeling. By this point, Linda seems to have forgiven Andy's inability to quickly locate the restaurant. The eight of us remaining (Heejo, Hyunsuk, Kyong, James, Nancy, Brian, Henry, and this observer) set off on an adventure, in search of a Pojangmacha in Myoung-dong. "Yeah, right!", you say. "Not possible", I hear your cry. Fear not! Heejo and I were able to locate a quaint little outdoor place within minutes, and the continuance of the adventure to the sam-cha was assured. The first order of business was to find somewhere for Nancy to empty her bladder. Brian was selected for the arduous task of watching over and protecting her. The rest of us supposed that he was the least threatening among us, which based on the speed of their return must be an accurate representation. A couple more hours of wonderful conversation, repartee, and gook-soo consumption ensued. By about 2, many of us were drooping, and fretting the tasks of the next day. We wandered off in search of taxis. Henry, Heejo, and I watched everyone go, and then Heejo and I were able to join the ranks of "those who have slept with the one who has slept with the most Monicans". That's right folks, Heejo and I spent the night with Henry, who has "been with" Brian and Jongu, and who knows who else. Awakening early, Henry and I left the Yeogwan, he to prepare to leave for Japan, me off to a business meeting. Heejo stayed in the room, to watch Korea and Spain play their world cup game, which started at 8:30 am here time. -jem |