The Good, The Bad, and The Far-From-Ugly Part Four: Anxiety

Anxiety is in no way a bad thing. We all experience it at some point or another, and it can be a useful reaction. But oh dear, did our hostel receptionist feel it. She was a special case, however; it didn't seem that Koreans as a whole felt this sort of crippling worry about tiny matters. 

The first example came when I asked her about how to get to a Christmas tree festival that was being held that day. The second my question left my lips and entered her ear, she looked immediately panicked. "Oh dear..." she began, "that is very, very far..." the way she delivered this news would have been more apt if she was telling me that her beloved pet passed away. It ended up being about 45 minutes by metro. She constantly made even simple tasks seem like the most trying things in the world. 

The next instance occurred when my friend and I informed her that we would be going out for breakfast, but back long before check-out time. The same deer-in-the-headlights expression washed over her face. "But...you won't eat breakfast here??" The hostel breakfast consisted of toast and some instant coffee. Somehow, that didn't sound overly appetising. She seemed so concerned. For what, I am not sure. Concerned that we were actually skipping breakfast altogether? Concerned about the breakfast offerings of the hostel? Concerned that we wouldn't be back for check-out? Concerned for something, that's for sure. 

You're...skipping...breakfast?!

Every reaction of hers seemed like she was on the verge of a panic attack. We tried to soothe her and ease her nerves as much as possible, but it often seemed a futile effort. 

The breaking point for her seemed to be when we asked if we could leave our bags there after check-out and pick them up when it was time for us to leave Busan. This request forced every ounce of colour from her face and rooted her to the spot. "But...but...I must take my lunch break from 1-2!" Poor thing. She probably thought that we wouldn't make it back by 1 and she would have to miss lunch. Knowing how hard Koreans work, I wouldn't be the slightest bit shocked if she'd had to go an entire day without a break before. 

Korean work ethic makes Japanese work ethic look pathetic in comparison, which is really saying something. Some companies don't even give their employees sick days. The lady at the hostel was there from 7:30 AM until 10:00 PM. I hope she doesn't do that every single day, but again, I wouldn't be surprised. 

The Good, The Bad and the Far-From-Ugly Part 3: Hovering

American salespeople do this to some degree in shops. "Hello? Can I help you find anything?" Whenever they say this, I want to scream "NO! LET ME SHOP IN PEACE!" Of course, in reality, I just nod and say I'm fine. 

Today, I also discovered that some Japanese people do this as well. I was browsing for some Christmas gifts and the store saleslady literally followed me every step I took. It quickly drove me to madness and out the door. I felt like in that episode of The Office where Dwight tells the lady "I will literally be RIGHT HERE if you need anything."

However, Korean salespeople take the practice of bugging customers to a whole new level. The second my friend and I entered any sort of shop whatsoever, the employees were on us like a shark on a bloody seal. Sorry, a bit of a gruesome image, but I truly felt like the seal being ripped to shreds in some shops. 

At beauty-product stores, the ladies working there would follow me around and get WAY too far into my personal space bubble. They picked up product after product and told me what each one was. "This lip stick. It for lips." Wow, thank you for that insight. I NEVER would have been able to tell that it was lip stick from the sign underneath it that says "lip stick." Or, from the fact that I can recognise lip stick. You really enlightened me, Miss Beauty Store Employee. Thank you.

"Miss. This is face cream. It cream for face." Wow, really?! Face cream is cream for your face!? I thought face cream was for your foot. My mistake, thanks for clearing that up. 

I am not exaggerating. They told me what EVERY product was as if I couldn't figure it out from the English signs, or from just looking at the product. 

The scariest place for me was the souvenir shop in the airport. It was a feeding frenzy of sharks attacking me, the poor defenceless seal. I am amazed I made it out alive. My ears were bombarded by suggestions and more information about what each item was. "Miss! Miss! This chocolate strawberry." Yes, I have eyes, which enable me to do this magical thing called "seeing." Therefore, with this ability, I can SEE the display of the chocolate which shows a strawberry inside. Amazing.

"Miss! Chocolate is great gift! How about orange chocolate?" If she told me that orange chocolate was chocolate with orange, I would have literally lost my mind. The airport medics would have had to wheel me away in a straightjacket. 

I just wish these employees would realise that doing this simply made me want to buy products that I didn't even want to buy even less than I already did, which I didn't even know was possible. Had I been left to browse in peace, I may have actually purchased something. 

The Good, the Bad, and the Far-From-Ugly Part 2: Vanity Fair

Japanese women care about their looks to put it mildly, but somehow the Korean women I encountered made the Japanese obsession seem normal. Everywhere I went, whether it be a public toilet on a hike or one in a metro station, there were rows and rows of women standing at the mirrors preening themselves. Every single lady I saw looked flawless and well-dressed no matter where it was. On hikes, their faces were done up as if they were about to get married. 

But... you're about to hike?

The obsession with beauty just seems completely ingrained in Korean culture. Plastic surgery offices lined streets and it was completely normal to see five beauty product stores side by side. Sometimes, even young children have surgery which baffles me not just because little kids shouldn't have plastic surgery in the first place but because their faces will continue to change as they age.

The beauty regimen adhered to by Koreans just seems exhausting. It's an endless string of steps from applying myriad creams, lotions, oils and concoctions of every other texture imaginable. One of our roommates in the hostel spent about 30 minutes slapping something onto her skin which really irritated me as it was right as I was falling asleep.

There are beauty products for everything there. The face creams contain bleach because their skin must be perfectly white. There are eyelash extenders, pore minimisers, face mask for every purpose in every colour you can imagine... anything you don't like about your face can be fixed with a Korean beauty product. If it can't, don't worry- you can just walk next door to the plastic surgery clinic. 

The Good, The Bad, and The Far-From-Ugly Part One: Why You Gotta Be So Rude?

My Korean seat neighbour described two blogs ago turned out to be an accurate representative of most Koreans I would encounter during my time in Busan. I'm going to go ahead and expect a slew of comments from upset readers berating me for making generalisations, so let me just go ahead and address that now. These are just opinions based on my observations. I know that people from every country are all unique and have their positive and negative personality traits. However, as an outsider, there were things I observed. My observations based on a short period of time, good and bad, are all that this blog details. So, everybody chill in advance.

Because it's just a blog

I initially wrote all of my observations in one long blog, but I know how short attention spans are these days, so I have turned it into a multiple-blog series. Enjoy.

Why You Gotta Be So Rude?

As I previously mentioned, living amongst the Japanese for months has likely tainted my perspective on how people should act. Japanese people are some of the genuinely kindest I have ever met. They rarely have ulterior motives driving their actions and will go out of their way to help anyone at all, even someone they barely know. Greetings are of utmost importance in Japanese culture as well as cleanliness and politeness. Had I travelled from New York to Busan, I may not have noticed a thing.

However, I was traveling from Japan to Busan. So imagine how I felt the first time I heard a Korean man hacking up a spit wad right there in the metro station. Shocked would describe it pretty well, though the more it happened the less it surprised me.

Also, in Japan people generally walk in a direct path to their destination in the train station. If they divert from said path and bump into you, they are quick to apologise. I know at least three ways to apologise in Japanese because of this. In Korea, people often walked directly into me and didn't even hesitate. No "excuse me" or "I'm sorry." Sometimes, it even seemed like they were INTENTIONALLY trying to run into me. For example, when I would walk down a practically empty hall and someone was walking the opposite direction, they still found a way to bump into me. How!? Why?!

Also, the staring. In India, people ogled me like I was a bearded lady in a freak show and didn't even try to pretend they weren't staring. Even when I returned their gaze they kept starting. Koreans weren't as bad, but some still stared at me to the point I felt very uncomfortable. That is another thing that I never experience in Japan.

Finally, the train situation. In Japan, people line up alongside the doors when the train arrives and wait for the passengers to get off before they file in. In Korea, forget it. The method there was "barge right in as soon as the doors open and don't wait for anyone to get off first."

When push comes to shove, Korea is a dog-eat-dog world. 

Korean Cab Driver

A selfie-obsessed seat neighbor. A no-nonesense Korean cab driver. Two grannies gossiping while taking a break from a hike. Yes, I've met all sorts of colourful characters in Busan, South Korea, and I've only been here for one day so far.

My seat neighbor was one of the two worst kinds of seat neighbors. The two types of seat neighbors I dread are the extremely chatty ones who talk to you from tarmac to tarmac, and the obnoxiously rude ones. Yes, people, there is nice middle ground. My seat neighbor was a Korean girl who looked to me to be about 20. However, she may have been 40 for all I know- Asian women are blessed with wrinkle-free baby skin until they are like, 70. I want those genes... Anyway, I was sitting in the aisle and she had the window seat. Instead of saying "excuse me" in any language or at the very least gesturing to the window seat so that I could get up and provide her access to her seat, she climbed over me and whacked me in the face with her purse and didn't say a word. Real nice. She then proceeded to take the pillow from the spare seat between us, because of course I wouldn't want it, and then she put all of her belongings on the spare seat. Real nice. When the dreaded turbulence of death started, all I could think was that she was the last person I'd want to crash sitting next to. Because yes, I always assume that turbulence equals inevitable crash.

Prior to taking off, she spent about 10 minutes arranging every single strand of hair on her head and practicing a number of pouty faces for a number of selfies she took. What is this world coming to?

Dear God, please make this woman stop

Anyway... eventually I landed, giddy to be in a brand new, shiny country. I immediately loved it, but felt like I was back at square one as far as being completely unable to communicate. It felt like I JUST got to the point where I could understand and converse even the slightest bit in Japanese. Time to start all over. I blew through customs quicker than a determined tumbleweed, and was ready to head to my destination.

That is one determined tumbleweed.

The first thing I came to adore about the lovely city of Busan was the abundance of free WiFi. Seriously, Japan needs to get on that. Even when I do find free WiFi in Japan, it is extremely slow. I know, I know- first world problems.

It's a hard-knock life. Just ask Annie.

So back to my story! I planned to take the metro. I had it all mapped out. But, sometimes, plans change. In this case, someone changed my plans for me. As I exited the airport, a stout little Korean man began yammering to me. I realized he was asking if I needed his taxi services, and I said I was alright, but he didn't understand me and kept insisting, so I asked how much it would be and he kept saying "one zero." I didn't know if he meant 10,000 won, or 10 won, or 100 won or what other mixture of ones and zeros he meant. A little fuzzy on the conversions still, I caved and let the determined little man take my suitcase and place it in the trunk. As I got begn to get in the back seat, he shook his head and wagged his finger at me and pointed at the passenger seat. Okay, sure, I'll sit next to you, sir.

The ride was a hilarious event during which he talked on and on in Korean, and I replied in English, and I had no idea what he was saying whatsoever. At one point, he reached in the glovebox and handed me a piece of gum. I hope he wasn't trying to tell me something about my breath. Anyways, once we arrived I realized that yes, the 30 minute cab ride was only $10. I loved the little man so much that I gave him a little extra because he was so rad.

The next morning I decided to conquer one of Busan's many peaks. I almost diverted from my plan, however, when I stepped outside into the frigid air.

I have been in Colorado, Minnesota and Chicago in the wintertime. I know cold. This cold made all of those colds look like a Miami beach vacation. This was the kind of cold that violently rips through your layers, renders your handwarmers useless and freezes you to the deepest depths of your core, down to your very soul. Okay, that sounds dramatic. But it's not too far off. The frigidness of the air was augmented greatly by the harsh wind, as well.

Finally, I decided it was all about the attitude. I was all like:

Actually, it did, like five minutes ago...

Tune in next time to read about my epic hike!