Street art and Urban Exploration in Seoul

Ah, Seoul. Big city. Sound is ubiquitous; it's inescapable. Honking horns, squealing tires, chatter on the street, shouting from the drunks, sales pitches from the pretty girls hawking makeup or lotion, and old men yelling prices of vegetables at you. I don't want to hear you, but I do.

It is a mix of old and new, and if you wanted, you could drop a lot of money here.

But not me. I've chosen not to conform to the culture here, if conforming means spending a lot of money or needless things. My 10 months of living as an expat in Seoul have taught me many things, and they aren't all positive, no sir. Sadly, it seems that young people in Korea (at least in Seoul, from the view of this foreigner, anyway) are obsessed with looking good, being cute, buying the newest styles, wearing the cutest clothes, eating at the most popular places, and not giving a fuck all about much else.

It was difficult for me to fit in here - I've never enjoyed shopping and I like to think I care more about things other than clothes, shoes, and makeup. I've said no to the culture of excess, of shopping as a national past time, of eating out every night and then drinking after that. Call me a square or call me a cheap ass - I don't care. I'd rather read a book, go for a walk, stroll around a free museum, or explore an abandoned neighborhood.

Yep, you heard that right. Here in Seoul, because of the rush to develop almost the entire city into the modern age of sky scrapers and state-of-the-art, LG-appliance-filled apartments, there are many, many older neighborhoods being torn down. Because you can't eradicate an entire neighborhood overnight, this often leaves large sections of housing open and vacant - the perfect place for a curious (and cheap) expat to explore.

The following photos are from one session of urban exploration I did here in Seoul. It's funny, I guess I'd been living under a rock, but I hadn't ever heard that term, "urban exploration," before I moved here. However, I've been an urban explorer for years and never knew it. I've always been curious about abandoned places - there's something about such a glaring absence that I find fascinating and comforting at the same time. From abandoned amusement parks to military bases (in Berlin) to abandoned neighborhoods and more abandoned amusement parks in Seoul, I've done my fair share. I don't mind getting dirty, climbing over walls or fences, or making a run for it, if necessary. I would choose any of those activities over shopping, any day.

I heard one of these abandoned neighborhoods was being used as some sort of underground art gallery, so in July I went to check it out for myself before the canvases disappeared - forever. Street art plus abandoned place = wicked cool. These were taken sort of near Namdaemun, if I'm not mistaken. And, if I'm not mistaken, there is nothing left now, unless they've started the high rises. Enjoy.

Perspective

I've been having a rough time lately here in Seoul. By lately, I mean really only over the past month or so. I like to take pride in my usual positivity and optimism, and I understand things change, life has its ups and downs. That's ok. But, plainly, this feeling sucks.

I've had plenty of good days, and most days are good. I don't actually feel like I have bad days. I just have an underlying sense of sadness, longing for home - an emptiness. I am quite homesick and I've found myself feeling stressed out lately about not being able to help my parents (who are aging). I have begun to develop a (somewhat) irrational fear that in the remaining three months here in Korea, I could possibly lose one or both of them.

I've never thought of myself as a stressed out person, but I think differently these days. I understand much of what I am feeling is because I am homesick - but much of it is also because I am a foreigner here; a real outsider. Although I was always one to enjoy and welcome my time alone, being forced into it is different. It's very lonely. One example I can think of is riding the subway. Before I left California, I was surprised at  the number of friends who asked "don't you think you will stand out as a almost 6 foot tall, light haired, light eyed woman?" I think I responded by saying either "Yes, perhaps, but that's not going to stop me from going" or "No - people in Seoul are used to foreigners." And it's true - most people in Seoul are used to foreigners. Perhaps in the (fairly recent) past, Koreans may have pointed or stared at me. But I've found it's actually the opposite. It's as though I don't exist.

Hence the loneliness. Hence the feeling of being an outsider.

I try to remember (and most times I do) that I chose to come here. It should be a proud thing - my time here in Korea. For years, I've wanted to come to Korea to teach English. I've mentioned this dream quite a few times on this blog and to many friends and family. I believed it was something I needed to do, an item that begged to be crossed off "the list."

I just never thought it would be so difficult.

But with any struggle comes strength ...  And clarity, and perspective, and gratitude. Nine months into my year contract, although there are times when I may not feel good, I feel strong. Although this isn't the optimal environment, I am grateful. Although I sometimes feel as though I don't exist, I have clarity. And although this year may be one of the most challenging of my life, I have perspective.

I always imagined I'd end up somewhere big and fast and glamorous like Seattle or New York or Berlin. But coming to Seoul and being away from the people and places I miss makes me realize how much I love my home, every one and every thing included. I see all the positives clearly now and I am grateful. I never want to be so far away for so long from my family and friends again, I look forward to returning and finally growing some serious roots.