THE INN SUNG DO

The Ajimah at the Inn Dae Won was glad to see me back and put me back in my old room. The Inn Dae Won hadn’t improved in my absence, but at least it was familiar. In fact, it felt almost homey, and I began to find my place in the rhythm of the strange life there. There were always people lounging on the couches eager to talk. Entire days could drift by unnoticed in easy conversation of faraway countries and places. All nationalities were represented, and I was eager to hear what life was like everywhere. The Ajimah kept a fridge stocked with beer and soft drinks and some snacks. The British were particularly fond of the cheap packages of cookies available in the stores, and the tables were littered with half eaten packages of cookies and half drunk bottles of beer. To join the conversational round table required only a donation of a package of chocolate chip cookies and a couple bottles of beer. Though from points scattered around the globe, we were united in our difference from the Koreans and an easy give and take developed.

The tourist/travellers met around the tables each morning with their maps and guidebooks to plan their day of exploration. Those travelling on their own naturally joined up with others for company. Entire days would be spent together without any personal questions arising. Even names wouldn’t be exchanged until hours, even days after first meeting. To ask for an age was to break the unspoken code.

During one of these mornings, I met my first Finn, Tapio. He was tall with wide shoulders and big blue eyes that looked either empty or surprised all the time. He had blond hair cut surfer style and high cheek bones. He said he was unique for a Finn. He didn’t drink alcohol and had always wanted to travel. He finally made the big break a year and a half ago and simply flew to the United States. He knew no English at all and had no money. He ended up in Fort Lauderdale, Florida where he learned his simple English selling $5 necklaces on the beach.

I also met David, a tall Canadian who lived in Japan where he modeled and did voice overs. David was very fashionable and stood out amongst the disheveled backpackers. His hair was cut to bristles on one side and very long on the other. He combed it over the top of his head and peered at you through the strands that fell in front of his face. He liked his life, enjoyed his life and knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. He was full of kindness and good advice – all delivered in a deep and golden voice.

After a few days of exploring Seoul together, the three of us determined to find someplace else to stay. With warmer temperatures, the Inn Dae Won’s insect population had blossomed and the smell was overpowering. Both David and Tapio got headaches from the trapped fumes. I had a hot tip from my friends Bill and Katie and set off to find the yogwan that they had lived in. I began to wonder if they had played a three-part joke on me by first sending me to Korea, and second recommending the Inn Dae Won and now putting me on the trail of the Samchong Yogwan. I finally found it within a stone’s throw of the Pink House, the Korean President’s residence. The seven secret servicemen dogging my every step and interrogating me at every street corner decided me against the place. We looked at many more places across the city but found none that could take the three of us together.

One day, after another fruitless search, another traveler told us of a yogwan, the Inn Sung Do, that was just up the road. We went to look. The rooms were five times the size of the Inn Dae Won’s, had huge windows, were clean, had electrical outlets, a bit of furniture, a telephone, TV, and a beautiful wooden platform running between rooms like a balcony. The biggest drawback was the owner, who had a reputation for surliness. He lay all day half naked, drunk and dirty on cushions in the room beside the entrance. But the Ajimah was okay, even friendly and helpful that first day and we moved in.

I moved into Room #1 with Tapio, a room that became my home for the next four months. I couldn’t believe how large it seemed and swung my arms around and around in jubilation marveling that I couldn’t touch the walls. I picked up the ancient black phone and while listening to dead silence pretended to talk to a man offering me a ten thousand dollar a month job. I snapped the battered TV on and off. There was a low table against the wall, and I ripped open my pack to find the few books I had and set them up neatly. I ran to the window and looked out laughing. I swung on Tapio and in my excitement shouted, “Isn’t this great?” He just looked at me with that wide-eyed surprised look.

I left him behind and went to explore the rest of the yogwan. It was larger than the Inn Dae Won and even had a couple of rooms with western style beds and private bathrooms. I found a set of stairs that led up to a single room on the second story. David moved into that room the next day. Another set of stairs led to the roof. Just as at the Inn Dae Won, everything was open, and from the roof I could look out over the neighborhood. It was an old area and all the dwellings were traditional single story. I could look down into their courtyards. I guessed there was little storage space in their homes, for the rooftops were littered with junk. From there, the view continued undisturbed across the city to where it abruptly ended at the mountains.

 

 

 

Tags: Inn Dae Won, Korea - First Days Teaching English, Pink House, Samchong Yogwan, TV