South Korea

I went to Korea a few months ago and blogged a tiny bit about that. But I was struck with by a sudden memory after attempting (very briefly) to organize my books a bit. Since I hadn't planned on going to Korea, I didn't have an English guide book with me. There wasn't one in the shelves here either, (there are several Japan ones of course and one or two China ones) but none for Korea so I bought one at a bookstore here. English ones might have been available, but I figured with the proximity of the two countries and the frequency with which people from Japan frequent Korea (see previous entries on Korea), Japanese guidebooks would be more detailed anyway. More picture and photograph-filled with many more suggestions for souvenirs than one would find in typical American guidebooks. I digress though...

On the train ride to Gangnam one day to do some shopping (my trip pretty much consisted of eating and shopping) I was standing on the crowded train, trying to read my guidebook while keeping an eye out for my stop. As it was in Japanese (aforementioned), it takes quite a bit of time and effort for me to get through a page of the book and maybe I looked a bit lost because some Korean grandpas sitting opposite me asked, in Japanese if I need some help. Seeing my book, they assumed quite naturally that I was Japanese, and started asking me questions...where I was headed, if I was traveling alone, and had mini discussions amongst themselves as to which was the best stop for my needs. They appeared to be strangers but started conversing in Japanese to each other as they started one of those back-and-forths one sometimes hears in New York, where a small circle of city residents bicker over the best subway route to get to the MET from Times Square or some such. It was so friendly and surprisingly so for me, as I would have thought (cynically it appears now) that they would have been bitter about speaking this language but they were so nice and friendly in trying to help me. I think they thought I was Japanese the whole time but the Japanese mother and daughter pair behind me probably found me out as soon as I spoke more than three words. They shot me a few glances during the course of my conversation with the group of harabojis. It could have been because of the conversation itself, Japanese with Korean grandpas, rather than my Japanese but I think my accent must have contributed.

All of the lines that were crossing in this little international exchange really left an imprint on my memory. Throughout the whole trip most store people I met thought I was Japanese. Almost never Korean though...my friend suggested that it was because I dressed Japanese. Maybe. People do tend to think I am native here but that might have to do with where I am as much as general appearance.