JOURNAL: New Year's Eve Part II

The next day was December 31st, and I decided to show my brother some of the sights around town. Even though it is against my principles to cater to tourist traps,
I took him to Itaewon to get his custom-tailored suit made. He first bought a nice leather jacket, which he believed made him look like a 1970s mobster (it did, especially with his black beanie!). The lady at the shop got it altered for him, and gave him a good deal because she thought he was cute.

At the tailor shop we chose, the tailor turned out to be exceptionally good. He broguht out a beatiful grey wool-cashmere blend fabric from deep within a pile of lengths; the fact that he did this told me that he really liked us, because true artists are picky as to who they will sell their services to. The quality of fabric was truly remarkable. He then called in the ladies, who had great fun measuring my brother's broad shoulders and large girth. One of the ladies playfully lay her head against his back, saying, "Oooo, so strong!" My brother is completely oblivious to this sort of thing, but I was highly amused at the flutter he made with the ladies. If he had played his cards right, I later thought, he might have gotten an even better discount.

We then went to the U.S. Army Base to check out the comissary. We bought Cheerios and that was about it. We then headed towards Seoul Tower, which had just re-opened. We hiked up a long hill from the subway, and stood at the foot of the cable car lift. The line was very long and slow-moving, and we fast grew impatient. I saw some paved stairs cut into the mountain (Mt. Namsan), and as they appeared to lead straight to the Tower, foolishly suggested we take them up the mountain. What the brush and trees hid was hundreds and hundreds of stairs, switch-backs, and steep inclines. It took about an hour to reach the top, and by that time, my knee was in bad shape. The wait to go up the elevator turned out to be an hour and a half, so we wearily resolved to come back another day.

We stopped at a small hof with a lovely view on our way down. The food was a rather interesting blend of East meets West. The "pork cutlet" was heavily breaded with a ketchup sauce carelessly sprinkled over it. The salad was drowning in an interesting blend of mustard and thousand island dressing, and included lettuce, cherries, and some sort of cabbage. There was also the ubiquitous kimchi.

We then saw that the line for returning by cable car was shorter. We took it down the mountain side, even though it was dark and we couldn't see much. We returned to my apartment and rested before the big shindig downtown...

At 9:15 p.m., we took the subway to Jongguk where the festivities were being held. It is Seoul tradition for certain citizens, elected by the city, to ring the Jonggak bell. It is a large heavy bell that has been restored and replaced where it was before the Japanese tried to blow it up. The bell is hit from the side by an enormous battering ram; the ram is suspended by ropes from teh ceiling of the pagoda and guided by thirteen people to hit the bell. The bell is rung 33 times on the New Year because 33 is a lucky number. This is, for Seoul, Time Square and the drop of the ball.

As we walked through the underground, we saw to our dismay that there were police guarding all of the exits and not letting people pass. We walked and walked, and as we neared the last few exits, a noticeable smell of gunpowder permeated the hallways. I nervously wondered if someone had gotten "creative" with the firecrackers in the underground. Finally, they let us go out exit 12, and as we emerged, all hell broke loose.

As I peered through the heavy smoke and covered my nose, I saw shooting stars of fire exploding noisily in the air. I had never seen this type of firework before, and the imp that lives in the back of my head began singing "And the rocket's red glare/The bombs bursting in air." As soon as I could see clearly, I noticed that the shooting fire was coming from long sticks held in peoples' hands. There were thousands of people holding these noisy and dangerous toys, and I found myself dodging more than once. So what were these fire sticks? Well, they are items that have been banned in most places of the United States for many years (hence why I had never seen them). These, I learned, were Roman candles.

As I contemplated my new knowledge, I noticed that there were men hurriedly unloading boxes of these scary torches. No money appeared to be changing hands; I later learned that most of them were compliments of the Seoul Metropolitan Government! That shows an incredible trust in the public I think. Can you imagine that happening in New York, a smaller city? I began to relax when I realized that most people knew how to handle these things. No one got hurt that night, which, given the crush of people, is amazing. Then, a random stranger pressed one into my brother's hand and lit it! My brother hurriedly stuck it up in the air like he was the Statue of Liberty ,whereupon it began to emit fireballs at the sky. The man tried to give me one, but I absolutely refused to take it. He shrugged and handed it to his next victim ... a little kid.

There were large screens showing events near the bell itself, and, like an idiot, I joined the crowd watching the screen. I noted the police barricade, and drew closer. I got transfixed by the screen, then suddenly realized the crowd was moving and I was moving with it. My hands were, once again, pinned to my sides, and people began to press me in from all directions. I took a deep breath, girding myself for a battle to get out, and a disembodied arm slammed right into my belly. I exhaled in shock, and then panicked when I could't take anouther deep breath. I felt an increasingly intense pressure on my back, my sides, and my front as I battled for air and space. I couldn't see my feet or lower torso, as I am about average height for a Korean. I could only see ahead. I let the crowd carry me for awhile as my much taller brother battled to get me out of there. We came to the sidewalk, and I found the curb with my toe. I took a leap of faith and a blind guess as to how high the curb was, and only stumbled a little. Finally, I was free.

The fireworks were still going on over my head; even more people came as midnight approached. Some traditional drummers wove in and out of the less crowded areas, festively frolicking and banging their native drums. They were in street clothes, but the crowd enjoyed their antics. I recognized some of the drum beats and movements of the dance as being related to the Chinese New Year Dragon customs and wondered what the connection, if any, was.

At midnight, as expected, a great yell went up. The bell boomed loudly as REAL fireworks went off in the sky. Of course, the good citizens of Seoul had been saving the best for last, as millions of Roman candles reappeared and shot off their glory at the same time. The air was very thick and smoky; it was raining ash but it was as light as day. My brother shot excellent video footage of some of these incredible events (my camera batteries were dead, so the photos I have posted are from his camera).

We had surprisingly little trouble getting home, and collapsed the minute we entered the apartment.