Metro mishaps

my first engagement with seoul was learning how to take the metro. i stepped out of the hotel monday afternoon after finishing some writing work armed with nothing but a copy of an expat magazine with a map of the seoul metro... and this icon filed away in my short-term memory from the morning we arrived.


the hotel i'm staying at, the renaissance seoul, is located in gangnam, the business district south of the river. all the streets look like ayala avenue, but extremely wide and festooned with coffee shops. the first thing i learned about my street is that the nearest metro station, yeoksam, was a convenient five-minute walk from the hotel. what i learned when i started walking was that it was majorly uphill.

okay, it doesn't look all that challenging from this photo, but by the time i got to the metro station i felt as if i had been sufficiently punished for the box of guylian bonbons (and maybe the ice cream and famous amos cookies i had last saturday).

i got on line 3 and crossed the han-gang river to go downtown, into the city center where all the shopping areas and a few major sights are.

considering that the korean signs were a little disorienting at first, figuring out how to get where i wanted to go was quite easy. english words seemed to leap out at me from the jumble of korean characters, ensuring that i had enough information to propel me forward. the disembodied voice on the train not only provides an english translation, but even tells you which side of the train to exit from at a particular stop. nice.

while on the train, i played paparazzi and shot proof of my first impressions. this is what i'm talking about with the suits and sun visors.

i had no trouble getting on the train, but getting off it was a major production. for some reason, the turnstile kept spitting out my single-use ticket (just like those in paris) and wouldn't allow me to go through. i tried each and every one of the eight turnstiles to no avail. finally, a passerby pointed to a large red button that said "help", on a wider turnstile for the handicapped. so i pushed, and wondered what kind of deus ex machina would come to release me from the bowels of the metro.

the trumpet of the gods was tinny and electronic, and it played that annoying tune that garbage trucks in manila blast. i'm sorry, i know it's originally a classical piano piece, but i really don't know what else to call it. it goes tininininininininiiii.... tinini... tinini... (repeat). i apologize for the jologs reference!

so, how helpful, right? i tried it again. and again, the tinny garbage truck ditty. i paused, waiting for something more instructive. then, a voice from a speaker below the help button crackled to life. "push it! push it!" it barked impatiently.

i actually bent down to the speaker to talk back back, a response undoubtedly caused by years of ordering from mcdonald's drive-through. "push what?" i shouted.

silence. so i pushed the only thing in front of me, which was the handicapped turnstile. it gave way -- and i was through! sigh of relief. i actually had a split-second nightmarish vision of me being stuck in the metro station for hours. 

the man at the ticket counter, a cheery middle-aged korean man, looked almost as relieved as i felt. he took my ticket, grinning, and gave me a hearty wave goodbye as i skipped up the steps.