Tag: seoul

Euljiro, Seoul: Summer 2025

Erasure and Transformation–A View of A Last Time

‘You could make anything—even tanks—in Euljiro.

It was a tight-knit maker economy neighbourhood in Seoul. Refugees of the Korean War settled here, scavenged and traded scraps and machine parts. The foundation of small industries’ expertise: metal works, casting, and assembly.

Hyundai started in a garage here, as a small construction and engineering company. A repair shop and construction supply store.

Young Kim is a Korean-American artist. We came to Seoul for his wedding. We became friends when he moved to Jakarta. On our second day in Seoul, he took us to Euljiro.

The area is named after General Ulchi Mundok. The Koreans named the four main boulevards after the military leaders who defended Korea from Japanese invasions.

Young used to work in one of the ‘factories’ here. He needed the skills to fabricate things for fine art. The shops make nuts and bolts, springs and metal sheets, cogs and gears. He can speak ‘market’ Korean—the working-class dialect. He said he could get discounts if he bargained speaking that.

Most of Euljiro’s metal workers and shopkeepers are old people. You can greet them for a little (or a lot of) impromptu chit-chat (something you can no longer do in Gangnam).

Neither Young nor the shopkeepers need the extra profit margin; they just enjoy the connection. The government and real estate companies began buying up land for the redevelopment of luxury condos.

Young and his fellow artists complained about the gentrification. That the transformation is an erasure. But Young and his friends were also part of the process. Euljiro is now Hipjiro. Many young people set up bars and cafes, and artists opened studios and design spaces. The Jung-gu district government designated it as a ‘special manufacturing and cultural zone’ and subsidised the creative and hospitality revival. 

The millennials and Gen Zs are into vintage aesthetics, a nostalgia for the pre-digital era, of simpler (yet less convenient) times. The juxtaposition of the old industrial era, with its home industry practicality, and the new first world consumer era, with its posh excesses, makes Euljiro a hotspot for Newtro—the new retro. Think Fallout post-nuclear apocalyptic world (without the scarcity and dangers).

A shopowner was closing his shop. He brought all his wares out. He said he’d been bought out. It doesn’t make sense for him to stay in business. He’s going to buy a home in the countryside and retire.

I wondered: can you just stop after decades, a lifetime, of working? I read about a seal carver in Koreana magazine. He has been working in that trade since he was a teenager, during the War. Hand-carved seals are no longer a necessity now, with digital printing. His eyesight is weakening, but he doesn’t stop because he doesn’t know what else life is than work—hard work.

We had an encounter with a couple of Leica photographers. The man had three Leica Ms slung on his neck. The lady wore a Q. They asked where we are from. 

We knew that we’re in the natural hunting grounds of street photographers. Our element. We didn’t need much words.

The workday ended. The alleys made space for the Korean BBQ restaurants to set up tables for alfresco dining. Plastic chairs and folding tables, butane camping stoves. Meat and saam (vegetables) and rice. Aluminium cutleries. A universal human delight of sharing meals.

We ended the walking tour in a bar on the fifth floor of an old grey derelict building. We each downed a shot of Glenfiddich. 59 Stairs is a Catholic themed wine bar; it has a lifesize statue of Mother Mary and her statuette. Candles and a crucifix adorn the wooden dark brown lacquered furniture. Neoclassical paintings hung on the walls.  The pretty barman, with glass skin face typical of K-pop idol men,  wore silver cross earrings. I wonder if it’s for style or an actual symbol of faith. Surprisingly, Christianity is more popular than Buddhism in this part of the Far East.

Young’s Christian name is Alexander. When we attended his wedding ceremony at Sseongbukdong Catholic Church, the entire procession was in Korean and Latin, with hymns sung and sermon; the eucharist and wine.  No Korean Jesus, but the priest is Canadian.

At the end of the ceremony, everyone greeted us: ‘Pyeonghwaga dangsinege itgil reul.’

‘May peace be upon you.’ 

The prayer I am familiar with.

His grandfather was a four-star general in the ROK Army during the military dictatorship regime. Naturally, his family has ties with the chaebols. Like many of the champagne socialist third-generation ultra-rich, he doesn’t like how his family money creates distance with most people. The polar opposite of the first-generation pioneer: his grandfather didn’t eat pork. Not because he was a Muslim or a Jew (obviously), but to show that he was different from his poor countrymen.

Young let go of his Korean passport because he didn’t want to serve in the military. ‘My grandfather’s services can cover five generations,’ he said. 

His grandfather never talked about what he did in those undemocratic times. I can’t help associating it with Han Kang’s Human Acts and the film A Taxi Driver. As Goenawan Mohamad wrote in Manurung: ‘The Cold War was only cold in the West.’

The bar has a view of Hotel Kukdo. Young told me that the hotel was owned by his father’s friend. He lost his fortune because he drank so much. In the 90s, Korea was on the verge of becoming a rich country. The Korean psyche at that time was high-octane individualism—the Randian libertarianism. Focusing on your self-interests, taking risks, were seen as virtues. When there is a Red Hot Threat up North, can you blame the South for overcompensating in the excesses of capitalism?

His father’s friend used all his assets to secure financing for investments which were high-risk/high-return and lost them all. Now he’s broke, but he’s still friends with Young’s appa. He came to Young’s wedding.

It was 6 pm, but the Northern Hemisphere subtropical summer meant it was still the golden hour. I think of Orwell’s words: intellectuals like to romanticise the working class. Sometimes, even roleplaying as one: artists’ studios in industrial workshops or traditional markets; techbros or lawyers buying and running a farm (with the help of farmhands, of course); corporate executives opening coffee shops; rich kids setting up restaurants and bars (or, in Zorba The Greek, buying a mine and work on it yourself).

But are we really good at it? Manual labour? Beckham is a farmer now. That suits him, it seems. He got to channel all that energy. The military grade discipline and routines he developed as a professional athlete are the fundamentals of farm work.

Transferable and acquisition of skills. I think that’s the keywords. No, we can’t be good at everything. But we are not that rigid either. The caste system in the Orient was not meant to be hereditary and immutable. It should be seen as archetypes, which are not exclusive traits in one individual and can be standalone relative to one another. Society needs all of them: the intellectuals, the warriors, the merchants, and the servants—even the pariahs. How we treat them is the measure of our compassion. ‘Might is right’ is the world of beasts. The lesser circle of reincarnations.

Some blocks have been cleared up for reconstruction and walled with fences. Billboards of cartoon advertisements: a nuclear family of three: the dad in suits, the mom with an apron, and the kid going to school, the park, and the church.

‘Next time you’re here,’ Young said, ‘it will all be so different.’

Yeh. What we witnessed was a view of a last time.

***

I submitted the photo essay/visual story of Euljiro for the application on JIPFEST 2025 Storytelling with Purpose Workshop by Ian Teh. This is the textual essay version.

P.S. I got selected and had the privilege of learning from a master storyteller. I asked him to sign the cover of my copy of Jhumpa Lahiri’s Roman Stories

Seoul is not Soulless

It was December 2017. We entered South Korea through Incheon Airport. We took an express bus to Seoul. When we were buying the bus tickets with credit card, we notice that it took only miliseconds for the EDC machine to approve the sales. That’s when I confirm that South Korea has the fastest internet speed in the world.

 

Arriving in Seoul, I immediately understand that this is an oriental metropolis: tall modern buildings juxtaposed with old traditional houses, grey old buildings and neon signages. Creating bright and colourful yet stoic atmospheres. Names are unfamiliar and most texts unreadable. The main streets are dominated by convenience stores and shops selling cute trinkets and merchandises of K-pop stars and cartoon characters.[1]

Manghwa and obsession to cuteness.

It has comparable atmosphere to Tokyo. Some say you don’t need to go to Korea if you have been to Japan. I say that’s ignorance. The cultures may be similar because both of are deeply influenced by Chinese culture and the intense historical interactions between the two nations. But there are differences in the details. Even the languages are different.

 

As any industrialised nation, South Korean celebrates the consumerist culture of excess. Balancing between their hardworking culture that is stereotypical East Asian with obsession to beauty and glamour as represented by their K-Pop culture.

 

I observed that Seoulites have that well-groomed flashy fashion style that is distinctively Korean and the coolness of modern metropolis. The men wear make-up and always well groomed. South Korea is also famous for skin care products. Even the boys in the army have glowing supple skin. One of Asia’s fashion capital, where local designers and fast fashion retails serve the young, stylish and pretty.

 

Seoulites open acceptance—even adherence— to plastic surgery, makes them physically beautiful yet homogenic individuals. Many of the Seoulites are almost identical (unlike in London, for example, where looks and styles are as diverse as its multicultural badge of honour).[2] In this magical land where an ugly duckling can turn into a graceful swan, why be ugly if you can be pretty?

 

Many of the Seoulites are sophisticated and cool, unlike the stereotype that describe people who had cosmetic plastic surgery as deeply insecure and highly superficial.  For me they represent the wisdom imparted by my friend: ‘Just because you do a superficial thing, does not mean you are superficial.’ Moral of the story: be less judgmental.

 

I always find the paradoxes of a society charming and amusing. A reason why I love to travel.

Seoul, an oriental metropolis.

Navigation

 

As any contemporary travellers, we rely on our smartphone to navigate. Free wi-fi is widely available in Seoul. However, we acquired a local SIM card just in case we need to make calls and use data sans wi-fi.

 

We found the Google Maps do not work well in Korea. The locals are using Naver, but I am not familiar with it and can’t read Hangul characters.

 

Good thing CityMapper works well in Seoul. All of the places mentioned below are searchable with the app. Except for Cheong-gye-cheon, we got directed to the natural river stream instead. Just take the Metro line 5 to Gwanghamun if you want to get there.

 

Seoul public transportation system is one of the best in the world. I read that the public transport system in Seoul uses algorithms to prevent overcrowding. The frequency of the trains will adjust according to the passengers volume. I never rode on an overcrowding car when taking the Seoul metro, even during rush hours.

Seoul Metro

 

 

Sights

 

Seoul is both modern metropolis and ancient. We managed to experience Seoul’s feudal kingdoms past and its bludgeoning modernity. The historical buildings and modern establishments are typically clustered within same area. These are some of the sights we visited:

 

Changdeokgung

The Palace of Illustrious Virtue represents the grandiose of Joseon royalties. The most memorable part for me was the beautiful Secret Garden complex. The Secret Garden is an oriental-style garden dominated with rocks, with no lawn that is typical of European style garden.[3]

 

It was a cold grey day when we visited Changdeokgung. The frozen pond  in the Secret Garden is the manifestation of Korean harsh winter.

Secret Garden, frozen pond.

Namdaemun

We visited the buzzing Namdaemun Market, in which you can find vendors for almost any item: seaweeds, bags, clothes, cameras (I bought a winter cap to keep my head warm), and then walk a little to Sungnyaemun (Namdaemun) Gate from the 14th century—complete with a guard in Joseon era uniform standing by.

Namdaemun Gate guards, ancient and modern

Cheong-gye-cheon

The artificial river stream Cheong-gye-cheon is the bright and colourful mainstream tourists hotspot. It was Christmas time so the lightings were extra festive. Naturally, Cheong-gye-cheon drew crowds of people armed with selfie-sticks.

Red.

Bukchon Hanok Village

Strolling around this neighbourhood of hanok (traditional houses) in the afternoon were such a delight. Renting a Korean traditional clothes to improve the walking experience—or simply to follow the trend on social media—seems to be a popular thing to do.

Bukchon neighbourhood.

Insa-dong

A charming rustic neighbourhood full of teahouses and eateries. It was winter, so we decide to enjoy the warmth and traditional Dawon tea house.

Insa-dong, scooter.

Itaewon

We love Itaewon because it feels like a multicultural oasis in monocultural Seoul. Expats/immigrants make this place filled with international cuisines, as well as the place to experience transnational cultural exchanges. Even the sidewalks have plaques of ‘Hello’ in various languages. I saw a Korean boy in dressed in K-pop style and make up on a date with a Caucasian girl dressed in western style and make up. Their distinct styles and make ups made them a cute couple.

 

Itaewon is also the hotspot for parties. The venues in Homo Hill, as the name implies, are gay/lesbian friendly. The north side of the area is less noisy. We rent an Airbnb apartment in this northern area.

 

Eat

What better way to feel the platzgeist of a destination other than diving into the culinary delights? We are already initiated with Korean food even before traveling there. However, Korean food in Seoul is, naturally, better (even the best).

 

Despite the stereotype that everything in Asia is smaller, Korean portion is always large with bountiful of side dishes (we are not required to eat them all when served). I wondered how Seoulites keep themselves lean and pretty. I hazard a guess: walking. Seoul metro stations have more stairs than London underground stations. I was impressed on how the ladies navigate the metro maze with high heels.

 

Kimchi are the most famous Korean food. Vegetables are fermented, i.e. made into kimchi so they can last the harsh Korean winter. This simple and delightful dish represents the ascetic side of Korea. It is said that each family has their own secret recipe for kimchi passed down from generation to generation.

 

While Korean barbecue symbolises the modern prosperity. My favourite Korean dish. A carnivorous galore of grilled beef and pork. This is best enjoyed with somaek (soju mixed with beer). The best Korean barbecue we had was at Handoni,[4] where our Korean friend Kyoungah took us for catch up dinner.

 

I tried my first ginseng chicken soup (samgyetang) in Seoul at Tosokchon.[5] This restaurant is in a hanok building. It has a traditional woodchip fire hearth at the main lobby. I shared the warmth of the hearth with a stunning Korean women (I think she’s a K-Pop star because people ask to take pictures with her). The chicken soup is a wonderful treat in the cold of winter. We sat beside a Singaporean family and shared a sense of camaraderie as fellow tropical people unused to the cold.

 

However, the best dining experience I had was at Gwajang Market—where rows of stalls offer glorious Korean foods at street food price.[6] I was having a hard time to decide which to sample and savour. Until a group of Seoulites asked us to join them in a gimbap stall. The owner introduced himself as David.[7] Gordon Ramsay once ate at his stall (photographic evidence of him hand feeding the celebrity chef exhibited). We drank soju together, on them. The most talkative one is Min. She speaks broken English but the language barrier was not an issue. After all, smiles, good food and drinks are transcendental. The experience also broke another stereotype: that Koreans, particularly Seoulites, are not friendly. It was a night of unexpected connection that may not last that stays with us forever. When we got lost and found in translation.

Gimbap connections.

Seoul is a big city. Non-Korean food are available a plenty with good quality. We have our breakfasts at Just New York Bagel Café[8] since it is close to our Airbnb apartment. We love the New York style bagel, but not the americano—it almost taste like Starbucks’. We had a Thai food for dinner at Buddha’s Belly[9] when we missed South East Asian spices and it was on par with Bangkok quality (albeit not the price). For sweet treats, there is a branch of the legendary Ben’s Cookies in Itaewon.[10]

 

Drink

Teahouses

This is the far east. Teas are not just afternoon indulgence, but taken to the level of an art. Naturally, the teas are of superior quality. Traditional teahouses offer calming delights and refuge from the cold for us.

 

At the end of our walk in Bukchon Hanok Village, we enjoyed traditional tea and pumpkin cake in Cha Masineun Tteul[11] (I hope I spell it right) with the view of the Bukhansan Mountain. Dawon[12] in Insa-dong has an outdoor seating in its zen-style garden (it was winter so we preferred to stay inside) as well as art exhibition space.

Traditional Korean Tea.

Café

Lovely Cheonchon, a western style café with cute interior design that is distinctively Korean serving coffee, tea and western cakes. We accidentally stumbled into this café because Hepzibah wine bar, that is located in the same building upstairs, was closed due to private event.

Lovely Cheon Cheon is lovely.

Kopi Bangasgan,[13] a charming artsy coffee mill in a hanok full of cute caricature drawings by the owner. In this little corner of an oriental modern metropolis where everyone is in a rush, I found myself slowing down. I doodled the scene when we almost miss the last train from Hongdae to Itaewon.

Kopi Bangasgan.

Bars

I thought South Korea, particularly Seoul, is just about K-pop and shopping spree. In my defence, however, Korean tourism ads do focus on those two sub-cultures.

 

I don’t like shopping. Buying things means extra baggage, they weigh me down and reduce the joy of travelling. The advent of domestic and international e-commerce also makes shopping while travelling less appealing for me.[14] Plus, I’m trying to apply minimalism in my life.

 

I understand that K-pop is more than just cultural commodities, they are cultural revolution instruments. Before K-pop, South Korea’s pop songs are limited to patriotic and moral songs commissioned by the dictator regime, which controlled the broadcasting industries. Then came Seo Taiji & Boys, defying the cultural conservatism. However, despite the K-pop industry was born as a counter culture to conservatism, there is a strict formula in creating a K-pop group: each member is assigned and trained to a specific role creating a balance of charisma and relatability with the fans. K-pop songs are described best as ‘experimental’ with mish mash of almost every genre in one song and catchy lyrics—sometimes with English words inserted.[15]

 

Nevertheless, my interests in K-pop is limited to seeing pretty girls (or boys, if you prefer) dancing in sophisticated choreography. I always mute the volume whenever watching K-pop music video. I can only identify two K-pop stars, Hyuna (despite she is the stereotype of K-pop hottie) and Psy (because of the Gangnam Style and the fact that he broke the stereotype of K-pop male idol).

 

Bottom line is: I had low expectations. South Korea may not be my cup of tea. I was even not too excited in traveling to South Korea. I assumed Seoul would be soulless or at least ‘uncool.’[16] However, I realised that there’s more to South Korea (and Seoul) when I have visited these ubercool bars:

 

XII is a whisky bar near Itaewon with only 12 seats as befits its name. This create an intimate atmosphere where you can chat with the bartenders and other patrons.

 

I chatted with the bartenders, while having shots of Bowmore, Talisker Storm and Ardbeg. The last one was on the house, a way the bartenders wish me a pleasant trip in Korea. It has the intended effect and I duly said ‘gamsamida’ (thank you) with all my heart.

 

There was a handsome Korean guy that made strong impression to me. He was alone, just drinking and smoking in silence with calmness and confidence, the epitome of cool gentleman. I imagine that Kafuku character in Drive My Car short story[18] or Gotanda, the narrator’s film star best friend in Dance, Dance, Dance[19] looks just like him. XII bar itself seems to come out directly from Haruki Murakami’s novel (in this case, I admit I can’t help to associate Seoul with Tokyo due to their similar oriental metropolis atmosphere).

 

On the opposite spectrum of cool, there was this loudmouth Canadian tourist. It seems he wants to impress his girlfriend by trying to show that he’s a whisky connoisseur. I can see the bartenders were annoyed.

 

I thought it was funny to see that two stereotypes were broken at the same time: that Koreans are racist towards South East Asian and Canadians are always nice people. I certainly got better service that night.

 

Seoul’s freezing cold winter night enhanced my XII experience—something unavailable in hot and humid Jakarta. I relived the Glasgow moment, when I acquired the taste for single malts.[20] Moments like this make me feel glad to be alive.

XII (Twelve)

  • Hephzibah

Owned and run by two gorgeous sisters who have a degree in theatre production and acting.

Enter this wine bar in Itaewon and you feel like tumbling into the Rabbit Hole or going through the Looking Glass or venturing to Grimm’s fairy tale magical house. The place deserves to be the little sister of Helga’s Little Folly in Kandy, Sri Lanka. It also has a mini theatre that screens arthouse films every night.

 

If XII has a masculine atmosphere, Hepzibah is the feminine counterpart.

Hepzibah: through the looking glass.

 

Yes, the name is taken from Radiohead’s song. Uncoincidentally, this is a Britpop/90s/Alternative Music themed bar in Hongdae, a university area. The proprietor is a music writer/journalist and has an impressive collections of CDs, LPs,[22] posters and books of all things Alternative music, as well as—just to put the ‘Brit’ in the ‘pop’—a routemaster bus model.

 

If there is a music genre that represents my taste, it’s exactly Britpop/90s/Alternative. Yes, alternative music may have died (but I prefer the term ‘evolved’). But

There There: Britcool in Seoul.

I came of age in the late 90s/early 2000s. Therefore, alternative music (or ‘indies’ as they were called before became mainstream) is my generation’s music. I am not really a cocktail person, but how can I not drink cocktail when there is a signature drink called ‘Coldplay’? And what stopping me from requesting the proprietor to play Smashing Pumpkins’ 1979 to say ‘Seoul, you’re a cool kid!’? I’m sure he did not object.

 

Perhaps my low expectations made my travel to Seoul and South Korea more meaningful. I was rewarded with travel’s best reward: to be enlightened of our ignorance, prejudice and misconception.

 

Credits

These are the main sources I used for traversing Seoul:

  • Lonely Planet Korea, 9th Ed (Feb 2013): the traveller’s bible and the most mainstream/classic guidebook series
  • http://www.afatgirlsfoodguide.com/ : Gemma Wardle is an expat living in Seoul with passion for travel and food. I know the cool bars from her blog.
  • Time Out Seoul

 

 

 

[1] Korean Manghwa sub-culture shares the same obsession to cuteness with its Japanese Manga counterpart. Christmas decorations with Manghwa theme are common.

[2] Before you accuse me for being racist, just look at the K-pop stars. Plus I’m Asian. I can see the difference between Asian faces.

[3] Lawns became popular in the Middle-Ages. It was (and still is) a symbol of wealth: European aristocrats in agrarian society wanted to show that they can afford to maintain a beautiful yet non-productive land. See YN Harari, Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow (Vintage, 2017).

[4] 141-16 Itaewon-dong, Yongsan-gu

[5] 5 Jahamun-ro 5-gil, Sajik-dong, Jongno-gu

[6] 88 Changgyeonggung-ro, Jongno 1(il).2(i).3(sam).4(sa), Jongno-gu

[7] It is common for Koreans (and Chinese) to adopt Western names when introducing themselves to Westerners or other non-oriental people. They realise that their names are unfamiliar for people outside their culture. Africans also share the same considerate gesture. However, I wish David told me his Korean name. As my Chinese friend told me when she introduces herself with her Chinese name, ‘If you really want to be friend, you’ll make the effort to remember my real name.’

[8] Itaewon 1(il)-dong, 72-5 -dong, Yongsan-gu

[9] 48 Noksapyeong-daero 40-gil, Itaewon-dong, Yongsan-gu

[10] Itaewon 1(il)-dong, Yongsan-gu

[11] 26 Bukchon-ro 11na-gil

[12] 1-4 Insadong 10-gil, Gwanhun-dong, Jongno-gu

[13] 8-11 Bukchon-ro 5ga-gil, Jongno-gu

[14] Nevertheless, living in a third-world country, there are certain items with value that are unavailable in domestic e-commerce platforms or simply expensive to import. For example: books and alcoholic drinks.

[15] See Netflix series Explained, K-Pop episode.

[16] Additionally, based on my observation to the mainstream social media feeds on South Korea, Indonesian (and other South East Asian) tourists who travelled to South Korea are mostly K-pop fans. Naturally, this reinforced my low expectations.

[17] 45-1, Yongsan 2-ga, , Yongsan-dong

[18] H Murakami, Men Without Women (Alfred A. Knopf, 2017), 3-40.

[19] H Murakami, Dance, Dance, Dance (Vintage, 2003).

[20] Before Glasgow, I only know [American] whisk[e]ys and drank them just to get drunk. Yes, I admit I even mixed them with coke.

[21] 33-9, Donggyo-ro 38-gil, Mapo-gu

[22] No cassette tape, though. It’s not a hipsters bar.