Subway tales

I have been on many subways systems: NYC, DC, Chicago, Toronto, Berlin, Paris. I have my share of weird metro stories. And yet my experience in Seoul has been something completely different. For one thing it functions exceedingly well. That would be a diss towards Boston. Secondly, it is amazingly clean. There are almost no trash cans and people are still eating and drinking yet the place is spotless. And I don't mean a station here or there. Every station, EVERY station is clean. Nothing. No trash, NADA. Despite the fact that trash cans are few and far between and when you find one it is the size of a bathroom bin! Seriously? Where is all that trash going? I have no idea. I know that I have seen many, many little old ladies wearing uniforms and cleaning like it's a outbreak of Ebola.

So first the good things. It is hard to find bad things since this system is so amazingly awesome in the face of the suck-i-tude that is the Boston MBTA yet they exist. Good thing number one: you never have to wait long and when you do, they apologize! In a meaningful way, not the fake way like when the red line person tells you that there is traffic ahead and two minutes later it becomes a disabled train. No! This is real! They mean it. They are truly sorry that they f**ked up your day.
Number two: people actually save the old people seats for old people. Now, Americans don't give a shit about old people. That is a cultural thing. For us old people are annoying, they tell stories that are endless and go nowhere, and they eat up our social security benefits. This is a country where old people are G.O.L.D. And don't you forget it. Actually, you can't because they will cut you if you get in their way. I have never seen so many ruthless old people since I was in line for the free buffet in Vegas. I thought I was hard core. These people could teach punk rockers a few lessons in how to navigate a crowd.
Get the f**k our of their way.
Ok, so, good things: on time, clean, old people seating, easy to navigate, and cheap.



Now the bad. Completely weird behaviour.
Example #1. Yesterday on the train I begin to hear the dulcet sounds of Ann Murray. Not sure what song it was. I had a moment of disconnect. I was five and watching the maid make cookies (mom didn't cook. EVER). I look over and there is a woman, probably in her fifties, pulling in a boombox on top of a suitcase. She proceed to pull out a couple of CDs and wander up and down the aisle. Now, I have seen people sell a lot of shit on the train - usually themselves as homeless, or dancers, or budding NYC opera singers but slinging shitty collections of "light gold pop hits?" This is a first. And just when you think it can't get worse, she shifts it up a notch and cranks the Bread. If you don't know that band please google them. Because you do know them you just didn't realise that there was an actually shitty band making those records. They were like a band that intentionally made supermarket music.
On a final note people bought these CDs. Nuff said.

Weird example #2.Sitting on the train. Minding my own business and trying not to get lost I watched the following spectacle. An older man sits across from me. Fairly nicely dressed as most people are here. He has a little radio/mp3 player in his lap. He is giggling and turning it up and down. Everyone is ignoring him. The Seoul subway is nice like this. It is a big city and people ignore everyone. But it gets weirder.
I'm not sure what he is listening to but it starts sounding like a woman screaming. Not just screaming, like in a horror movie kinda way, but screaming like she is being raped. That was f**ked up. He is smiling and listening to it and it gets worse and worse and louder and louder. Now, everyone is ignoring him. But I am looking at this guy like he is Jeffrey Dahmer at a knife convention. This guy is freaking sicko. I know there is a tradition of this kind of "porn" in Asia but I didn't really think I would experience it on the subway. All I can say is, I saw that man's face and he was way excited about what he was listening to. I don't know what it was. All I know was that it sounded like a woman being attacked and he had it playing on full volume in the subway. And people pretended it didn't exist. He finally got off at a station (no pun intended! Whoah!). All I could think was "f'real?"

Example #3. Today. I am in the midst of schlepping across town. I went from way north to a gallery in the west and then headed south of the city. I am on the train a little worse for the wear. It has been a long day. I board the train and stand in a spot against the wall near the door to the connecting train. I look at nobody and I make no eye contact. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is talk to someone. And then it happens. A guy sidles up next to me and begins talking to me. First he asks me what the time is. I tell him. Of course I can't tell him, I have to show him. I don't speak Korean. Then he smiles at me and proceeds to keep talking to me. I have no idea what he is saying. I mumble and nod and then dig in my bag for a book. I pull out a studio guide I got from the Chang-dong Art Space. I pretend to read it (it is entirely in Korean). What the f**k? He keeps talking. What is he saying? I have no idea! I think he thinks I speak Korean cause I am reading a Korean magazine! Then he tells me I have nice hair or something. That I heard. I look at him. Put my magazine away, pull my book out of my bag, thrust my face into it and step away, pretending he doesn't exist.
He begins talking to himself and a couple of old people nearby. Thankfully he gets off at a station well before my own.

And my final subway story is: after my meeting in Chang-dong I took a cab back to the train station. Underneath the station are all kinds of booths selling food, clothing, whatever (whatever being crazy assed squid things in large tanks). I navigate my way to the appropriate track and find myself walking down a huge flight of stairs behind an older woman. Probably in her sixties, she is carrying a large bucket or tub on her head. It is covered in cloth. I have no idea. I'm thinking fruits or vegetables. No, it is live fish. I get behind her, close enough to see the fabric moving and breathe in the fishy goodness. I realise she is carrying a large tub of fish, on her head, on the subway. I thought about taking a picture but honestly it wouldn't have done it justice.

And that my friends is the end of my subway story. I think that after this I can put up with any smelly Museum School student or homeless person on the Boston T. Because they are amateurs. They ain't got sh*t on people here in Korea. Next time you are stuck next to a smelly hippy on their way to JP just think: they could be carrying a giant tub of fish instead. Think about it.