36. Diana, Quanah and Renee

Gwangju was going to a special experience from the start: for the first time in Korea I was staying not just with a host, but with an entire host family. My couch surfing contact, Renee, was at work when I arrived, but I was to take a taxi to her family's home. I managed to find their apartment with the help of yet another kind stranger, rang the doorbell and was let in by Renee's mother Diana. She doesn't speak much English (although still more than I speak Korean), but that was not stopping her from being incredibly hospitable. She cooked me a fabulous dinner (and if you've read this travelogue up to this point you'll know that in Korea this means the table was covered with an abundance of delicious food), and by the time my efforts had had any visible effect on this spread of goodness, Renee's sister Quanah had arrived. She speaks very good English, which means that now the conversation really took off (well, after she had added noodles to the selection of foods, that is).
After dinner came the drink, and the gambling. Diana called a friend, who brought her daughters, and a bottle of bamboo-based wine - I'm not sure whether it was juktongju, or jukryeokgo, or something else entirely, but it was tasty. We drank, and ate some more scrumptious side dishes, and talked for a good while, until it was time for the daughters to go home and do their homework. That's when the Go-stop cards came out, and we started playing. Fortunately for my wallet we only played for points, because after a first round of total beginners' luck, I was struggling to even keep track of what was going on. It's a fascinating game with many rules (so many in fact, that it seemed a bit as if they were making them up as they went along), and it seems to be a good mix between strategy and luck. If you want to try it out and are in my neighborhood, let me know - Diana gave me the cards as a gift, and I want to practice!
Sometime during our game Renee finally came home from work, and shortly after that her father. He's a lovely, charismatic man, and - according to Renee - crazy like the rest of the family. The Park family, by the way, is an atypical Korean family as far as I can tell; the relationship the two daughters have with their parents is much more one of friendship, than of the traditional Korean obedience - the family laugh a lot and are full of friendly banter. And yet it was very interesting to witness the change in atmosphere when the dad walked in the door - immediately he was the center of attention, the playing cards and drinking glasses were whisked away, and he started peeling one of those sweet, huge juicy Korean pears - a quick snack before we all went out for more food at Renee's favorite fish place, where he tried to set me up with the cute waitress.
After saengseon hoe and maeuntang it was time to go to bed. And since I've not mentioned Korean sleeping customs so far, now is probably a good time. The Park family had cleared a room for me, and from the looks of it not just any room, but probably the one with the best bed.

I had happily slept on the floor for the previous two weeks, which incidentally is pretty much standard procedure in Korea - their heated ondol make sleeping on the floor comfortably warm at the very least. But this was the luxury version: a bed of "normal" height, with a slab of stone set over an electric heater, the control panel conveniently integrated into the bed.

The next day we went for a picnic in Damyang, a county to the northeast of Gwangju, which is well-known in Korea for its Bamboo forests. But first we went to visit the May 18th National Cemetery, where the victims of the Gwangju massacre and heroes of the Gwangju democratization movement are laid to rest. I had wanted to go there to find out more about what it took for Korea to make the transition to a true democracy. The museum that is part of the memorial site managed to convey the immense courage the protesters showed during the 10 days of resistance, and the heart-braking fate that many of them suffered. I was deeply moved.

After another short drive and a one hour hike through beautiful pine forests, we reached our picnic place: Geumseongsanseong, a large fortress built during the 13th century.

Most of the buildings of the fortress were destroyed during the Donghak movement of 1894, so the interior seems more like a park than a military compound. But a 5 minute walk from the outer wall revealed a small house and stage - the sleeping quarter and training grounds of the Dongjaam, a pair of boy monks who are being trained in the Asian fighting art by their father. We arrived just in time for their training session, and were dazzled by skill of these real-life Bruce Lees.

This post concludes the newest instance of Meet a Stranger a Day - Korean edition. I spent four more days in this fantastic country, but they were filled with travel, meeting old friends, finding a way to recharge my camera's battery, and buying overpriced souvenirs - which is why I'll leave it here. But I'm hopeful - Meet a Stranger a Day will be back, as sure as I'll go traveling again...

35. Timothy

Even though my flight to Jeju was on a Saturday, Haeyoung had to work in the morning - but we were going to have lunch before I had to take off to the airport. I used the time until then to find when and where exactly the bus to the airport leaves, and to have a second look at the port. And then lunch was so delicious and the company so good, that I caught the bus twenty minutes later than intended. On top of that, traffic was atrocious, and instead of 90 minutes the transfer across Busan took about two hours. I arrived at the checkin-desk with 15 minutes to go until takeoff, focused only on not missing the plane, and must have been quite startled when the staff asked me whether I preferred an aisle or window seat. Either that, or it's standard procedure to have an extra close look at late checkin luggage. Whatever the case, I was asked to wait at the counter until my backpack had been scanned, and - after about a minute - told to join security for a closer inspection. They had seen an electrical appliance, with a wire coiled up, and wanted me to show it to them. It took me a few moments to realize that they meant my laptop charger (I was not sure about which of my belongings were in my hand-luggage and which were in the backpack), but together we found it. With the immediate security risk resolved, their focus wandered to a different item; back in Zurich, I had wrapped a couple of buttons - part of a special delivery of climbing pants to Eunkyoung in Seoul - in a piece of paper, on which I had been practising Hangeul, the Korean writing, pretty much with random simple words. While we were looking for the charger, somehow one of the security crew saw this, and now asked me whether I had written this myself - from then on they were all smiles, and I was finally on my way to Jeju.

Tim picked me up at the airport, an unexpected kindness; in general he struck me as a gentle giant (him waving to one of his elementary-school English pupils is a sight to behold). In the evening we joined the expat crowd for an open mic night, and later on went to the aptly named "The Bar". It was good fun, but it meant that we had a late start the next day, and what I had wanted to be a daytrip up Jeju's Hallasan turned into an afternoon at the Trick Art Museum. Its concept: take masterpieces, monsters and dinosaurs, arrange them so people can interact with them and take cheesy pictures, and let the crowd exit through the gift shop. Definitely not my kind of museum. The next morning I pulled myself together, and at least went to see the Manjanggul lava tube. Jeju is a volcanic island off Korea's southern coast, and sports craters, basalt stone cliffs, and underground caverns. Manjanggul is part of a system of roughly 7km of such caverns, created by subterranean lava flows, of which about 1km is open to the public. It was a bit of a bus ride and accompanying walk to get there, but the caves are impressive and very nicely lit.

Particularly interesting is the lava pillar all the way at the far end of the public part, where lava flowed and dripped down from another tube higher up, creating a strangely shaped pillar.

Porous volcanic rock is ubiquitous on Jeju, and is used - among other things - for dry walls.

34. Haeyoung

Busan is Korea's second largest city, and one of the world's five largest ports. This becomes noticeable for example when traveling by subway; after a short 40-minutes bus ride from Gyeongju to Busan, it took me a full hour to make my way across town to Haeundae, where I was going to meet Haeyoung. Thanks to Ji-whan's planning and hand-drawn map of the subway system, this proved to be simple enough. I arrived on time, and without any major detours, and had just enough time to make a phone call and buy some iced tea from a street vendor, before Haeyoung picked me up. We left my luggage in her car, and went directly to Haeundae's namesake beach, a summer favorite that draws up to a hundred thousand sunbathing visitors from all of Korea, not all of which can conceivably touch sand at the same time.

Haeundae has seen a nearly incredible amount of development in the last five years, including the construction of Gwangan bridge.

Since we both hadn't eaten, Haeyoung then took me to the the place to go for fresh eel. The eel are kept alive in a tank just outside the restaurant until the moment you place your order.

At that point, they are killed and filleted, and stewed on a cooker on your table. Eventually the pieces stop moving and are ready to eat - they have a chewy texture, a desired trait in Korean cuisine.
It was one of the last days of the Busan Film Festival (PIFF), and Haeundae Beach was filled with booths that were all at least loosely related to the movie industry. We took a stroll along them after dinner, and happened upon a performance of traditional Korean music - part of a PIFF-related reception. A brass instrument, whose sound reminded me of a Shawm or Schalmei, accompanied by four percussion instruments, playing groovy, stomping, pounding rhythms, and dancing: a man - maybe the fool?, a bear - or at least two men in a bear costume, and at the end the musicians themselves, who circled, jumped and turned like dervishes, the long ... on their hats describing coordinated circles and figure eights. What struck me as remarkable, is that I would have placed this music much further west, had I heard it out of context - I would have guessed it to be from Turkey, or somewhere along the silk road perhaps.
After that, we walked back to the car, had another look at Gwangan bridge by night, and drove to Haeyoung's home in the outskirts of Busan.

The next day - Haeyoung had to work - was filled with sightseeing. One of the things Busan is known for is the Jagalchi fish market, an immense collection of stalls and restaurants, partly in the road, partly in a newly opened market hall, and ships in all sizes and shapes.

Jagalchi's focus is on fish, but that doesn't mean you can't get everything else too. At the outer reaches you'll find stores full of traditional Asian medicine (this time I was quick-witted enough to take a picture of the dried frogs), and any supplies fishermen may need; ropes, chains, nets, and so on.

Closer to the center of the market are the dried fish stalls.

Tiny dried fish, small dried fish, big dried fish, dried seaweed, dried squid, dried octopus - if you can dry it, you can find it here.

At the heart of Jagalchi are the fresh fish stalls, and of course live fish, and crab, mussel, clam, squid, snail and turtle.

Walk on past the restaurants that sell fish and other seafood, fried, stewed, and of course raw, and you'll get to the vegetable and fruit part of Jagalchi, where there's cabbage, leek, carrots, potatos, dubu (or tofu), lettuce, sesame leaves, garlic, onions, hot peppers and of course kimchi. And then, as you are about to emerge from this jumble of color and smells, there are more medicine stalls with their powders, roots, barks, leaves, mushrooms, seaweeds and, again, dried frogs.

In the afternoon I went for a hike in Geumgang, a mountain park in the northern part of Busan. It turned out to be quite hard to find, as I had forgotten to pack my guide book when I left Gyeongju, and was navigating only from a tourist map of Busan. I took the metro to what I thought was a nearby station, and walked in the general direction of the mountain, which thankfully distinguishes itself from all the other hills in and around Busan by the red supports of its cable-car. Busan's road system was not kind to me, and gradually turned me away until I was walking in a completely useless direction; but eventually I made it to the entrance of the park. I decided to walk up, rather than take the cable-car, and was rewarded on the way with a magnificent view of the sprawling Busan.

33. Ji-whan and Jae-min

In Gyeongju, my couch surfing experience was an unusual one. Professor Hank Chay of the Gyeongju University arranges for his students to accommodate couch surfers - to the mutual benefit of all involved. The students, in my case Ji-whan and Jae-min, get to practice their English for a couple of days, while the couch surfer has the best, most authentic experience possible. I had been exceedingly complicated, delaying my departure time from Daegu more and more (so I could spend some more time with Martine and Ross, see some more of the sights, and have yet another delicious meal). But when I finally arrived at the Gyeongju bus terminal and called Ji-whan, he and Jae-min were there within minutes. We took a taxi to Ji-whan's one-room apartment, dropped my stuff and exchanged some presents (red ginseng tonic and Swiss chocolate), and started right away into the sightseeing, of which there is a lot to do in Gyeongju.
Anapji pond is the reconstruction of a Silla-era summer palace, and it looks truly pretty - especially at night.
A nearby restaurant serves the town's best Boribap, and after this yet again delicious meal we drank brotherhood with Dongdongju, a sweet rice-drink that somehow reminded me of the Swiss "Suuser". Later that evening, we went to play some basketball, a traditional Korean sport, played with a large ball and one or two hoops fixed to a rectangular board... oh, you've heard of it?
The next morning, Ji-whan took me to the Jimjil, a Korean bathhouse, with showers, a sauna, a hot pool, a very hot pool, and a refreshingly cold pool, all of which we used in the proper sequence. Refreshed and clean we started into the day, and went to visit two of the most important cultural sites in the vicinity of Gyeongju: the Bulguksa temple and the Seokguram grotto. On the way there we decided to strengthen ourselves on Beondegi, stewed silkworm pupae. Unusual, to say the least.


As I've mentioned before, Korean Buddhist temples all have a relatively similar layout. One of the recurring features is the well, where devotees wash their hands and use the red and blue ladles to drink the cleansing water.

33. Martine and Ross

The bus ride to Deagu took longer than I had expected, and so instead of around five as planned, I arrived after dark, around eight. Daegu has several bus terminals, most of which are reasonably near downtown - except, of course, the one at which I arrived. In addition to that, it seems to be little frequented by foreigners, so that the only English I heard or saw, was an invitation to buy some authentic Indian food. I politely declined, and continued my search for a public phone. I found a number of them tucked away by the side entrance of the terminal, brushed away some cobwebs (clearly most Koreans own a mobile phone), and called Ross. He was at a wedding reception, but very kindly explained where I should go to meet up with him (a landmark building run by one of the big hotel chains), and that I should make the taxi driver call him, if there should be any problem. And sure enough: I approached a gaggle of taxi drivers, and said just the one word in a questioning tone; much puzzlement ensued. They started throwing hotel names back and forth between them, all of which sounded distinctly not like the name I had given them. Finally, one of them waved me towards his car, we got in, and he drove off. In safe distance from the other drivers he asked me for my destination again. I tried finding the place in my guide book, but without success. Finally I pointed to his phone, typed Ross' number in for him, and so for the third time, my couch surfing hosts had saved me.
As it turned out, the wedding reception did not take place at the hotel at all, but Ross had simply chosen a big enough landmark form me to find. From there we took a short walk to the bar where the reception was still in full swing. I waited downstairs for Ross and Martine to say their goodbyes, but I hadn't even taken off my backpack, when Ross reappeared: I had been invited to join the party! The guests were a good mix of Koreans and foreigners, including a group of couch surfers. I won't go into the details of the party - you've probably been to a couple of them yourself. Only this: apparently, belly dancing is all the rage in South Korea.
The next day I went to visit the nearby Haeinsa temple. It houses the Tripitaka Koreana, a huge collection of buddhist scripture carved into wooden blocks, dating from the 13th century.


Haeinsa is very popular among Koreans, at least on a Sunday - instead of finding serenity, I ended up being part of a huge mass of tourists. And of course the wooden blocks aren't on public display, instead they are kept safely in the original storage, which provides the perfect storage conditions that apparently modern science cannot. But I was impressed by two things. Amid all the people, in one of the side temples was a monk, chanting, without a sign of distraction. And between the first and second gates stands the trunk of a roughly 1000 years old tree, according to legend planted to commemorate the foundation of Haeinsa in 802.

32. Lindsay

Arriving in Sokcho, after a four-hour bus ride through green hills and along the coast, I felt the slightest bit of apprehension. Sokcho is a small town according to Korean standards, counting a mere 100'000 inhabitants, but its dense layout and high-rise apartment blocks give it the feel of a much larger city. And I was going to have to try to communicate with a taxi driver again, a task that had left me puzzled and frustrated in Seoul. I managed to say "Sam Hong apatah" without making too much of a fool of myself, and when we arrived at the apartment complex and the driver pointed at several of the buildings with a querying look, I think I managed to convey to him that I did not know exactly which one, but that here was a good place to get out... And then once again a couch surfer came to my rescue - my host Lindsay had come out to greet me, and with that the taxi driver was satisfied that I was not going to get lost.
After I had lent my fingers to Lindsay's cat Mamba as a chew-toy for a while, we took the scenic route to Sokcho's food town and went for delicious Samgyeopsal - thick slices of pork, fried on a coal stove integrated into the center of the table, and served with a mind-boggling array of side dishes; lettuce- and sesame-leaves, kimchi, pickled roots and beans, scrambled eggs, raw squid, dried fish... I can't recall the exact arrangement, but suffice it to say that a Korean dinner table is not complete if there is still some space on the table.
After dinner that we went for some beer and soju, and had a great chat, which was interrupted only for a short time by a Korean girl of about 17 years, who had been dared by her friends to go ask the foreigners for some beer - we realized what exactly was going on only later, when the bar staff brought candles and everybody started singing Happy Birthday.

Friday was reserved for hiking. Near Sokcho, a short bus ride of about 30 minutes from the city center, lies the national park of Seoraksan (Mount Seorak). I had considered trying to scale the summit, but decided not to overdo it - with a horizontal distance of about 10km from the park entrance and a vertical distance of 1700m it would have taken me roughly 10 hours there and back - a timeframe for which I was simply not awake early enough. Instead, Lindsay suggested the hike to Ulsan Bawi (Ulsan Rock), and she was spot-on with her suggestion. It's the time of the year when the leaves start changing color here in Korea, and the hike took me through some beautiful forests, which were mostly green, with just the right number of red leaves.

On the way to Ulsan Bawi there are several temples and shrines - and there's the teetering rock, Heundeul Bawi, that can be rocked back and forth by a small group of people.

The final half-hour of the ascent to Ulsan Bawi consists of stairs.

The view from the top is well-earned and much more spectacular than these two pictures can convey:

On the way down I stopped by Sinheungsa, the temple at Seoraksan's foot. All the Buddhist temples I've seen in Korea so far share some common elements. One of them is the entrance to the temple compound, guarded by the four kings of heaven, each of which rules over the domain of either north, east, south or west.
The king of the south, always depicted with a musical instrument.

At their feet: vanquished daemons.

After I had returned to Lindsay's, we met up with her friend Ari, and went to the harbor fish market. The way to buy (or even better, eat) fish here: point to the fish you like, and the seller will kill and prepare it right in front of your eyes.

Or you can order squid sundae - tasty!

Since we were still a bit peckish after our fresh clams, shrimp and squid sundae we decided to follow them up with some Bulgogi - thin slices of beef, again fried on a coal stove integrated in the table, and as always with an enormous number of side dishes.
And then - the night was still young - Lindsay and Ari introduced me to Sokcho's night-life. We met up with some of their colleagues from the English teaching institute, and went to their local to join in a double birthday party. There was a lot of talking, drinking, dancing, birthday cake and great company. And then, and I know I'm repeating myself, but Korean culture seems to be centered very much around food: at the party I talked to two Korean work colleagues of Lindsay's, and - hungry from all the dancing - we went to eat some pig spine soup (the literal translation is potato soup, and there are usually some potatos to be found in it, but according to common opinion, pig spine soup is a much more accurate description). Delicious food in the company of two charming ladies - what else could I possibly wish for...

30. Eunkyung

The last two days have gone by in a blur, albeit a very colorful one. I arrived at Incheon airport shortly past eight in the morning, and made my way into the city by bus. It was a long but pleasant ride, and it gave me time to enjoy the scenery - at least when I wasn't busy watching the Korean soap opera that was on TV just behind the driver. As we made our way towards the city I caught my first glimpse of one of the huge apartment complexes that are common here. At the beginning they were visually competing against green hills, soon they started blending into the massive city that is Seoul.
I arrived in Gwangwhamun about two hours before I was supposed to meet my host, so I walked to the next subway station to find a locker for my backpack:
I was so overwhelmed by the massive amount of Korean explanations (well, at least I guess that's what they are), that I completely overlooked the English translation. But I wasn't going to give up so easily - I thought about how the locker would work if I had built it, tried a couple of buttons, and hey presto - my stuff was locked away. So I walked in the general direction of onwards, and saw the palace guard guarding Deoksugung palace.
I was in no mood for museums though - I needed to get the feel of the city. So instead of going in and looking at the palace, I continued my way through the financial district, just as far as the Great South Gate (Sungnyemun on my map, but Namdaemun in my guide). Unfortunately the gate had burned down in 2008, and all I could see was the protective wooden wrapper that had been erected around it. I turned around and ambled back to the subway station, the locker, and all my stuff. Which I thought would be easy enough to retrieve, until I tried. After a few misses, I thought I had found out which buttons to push - just the ones that made sense if I thought about it - but the door to locker number 3 did not open. Well, no reason to panic - I was just going to have to ask my host to help me decipher the Korean instructions. I double checked that the door had indeed not opened, and went outside, to the front of Hotel Koreana, to wait.
I did not have to wait very long - the lovely Eunkyung soon arrived, and followed me back to the subway station, the locker, all my stuff, and a locker repairman who was just checking and closing the door - my door - and then rebooting the system. I'm still not sure what had happened (my Korean is way too sketchy for that), but upon trying the method that had made the most sense again, we were finally able to retrieve all my stuff from the locker - which I may have slightly overfilled if I'm perfectly honest. After that everything was just fantastic. We dropped my baggage in Eunkyungs apartment, and went for something to eat: make your own rice paper dumplings with a great array of tasty ingredients!
After that Eunkyung brought me to the local indoor bouldering hall, where I was sorely reminded of how much I am not in shape (I can't really write out of shape, as I don't think I ever was in one). But I simply love climbing, and so even though even the simplest route became increasingly challenging the more I grew tired, I had a great time trying, and watching the local cracks perform laws-of-physics-defying feats. A great first day in Korea to be sure!

29. Irène and Markus

A lot of things have happened since my last post; summer has come and gone, I've started hosting couch surfers with great gusto, my facebook status has changed to single (or at least it would have, if I had a facebook profile), and I've booked and organized the next big adventure: a three week long trip to South Korea, which will include my first experience surfing a stranger's couch. It was clear that I wanted to post my traveling stories, but I wasn't sure how to integrate them with Meet a Stranger a Day; should I create a sister blog? Or will you forgive me the transgression of posting non-daily tidbits of non-stranger related information on such a clearly labeled channel? Well, at least for the first post of the new MSD the decision is easy. I'm writing this post during my stopover at Helsinki airport, just after having waved goodbye to Irène and Markus, two strangers that once again prove how tiny the world can be.
So I was sitting on my aisle seat in the airplane, trying to solve one of the problems described in "Programming Pearls", politely not listening in to the conversation that was taking place on the two seats to my left, when I heard the words "couch" and "surfing" used in immediate succession. After five months of hosting surfers from all over the world, for me that's pretty much an open invitation to chat; I couldn't resist, and soon we were talking about travel, people, and the world. All the while I was wondering: Markus looked distinctly familiar, and both he and Irène had that wonderful Swiss German that placed his origins in the center of Switzerland, the eponymous Schwyz - could he be related to my next-door neighbor Daniel? Indeed! I was sitting right next to Daniel's brother and sister - they were on their way to Delhi, on the first leg of an eight months long around-the-world trip. Small, small world!

22. S.

Today's meeting was prearranged - S. was traveling to Zurich and had asked the local couch-surfers' group if any of us would be around for coffee. I was not sure whether or not to bring up the subject of Meet a Stranger a Day; this blog is a tool to keep me going out and meeting people, and as such it should not interfere with encounters that happen independent of it. As it turned out, S. had already read about this project on my couch-surfer profile, and when I spotted a good backdrop in the snow-storm and asked her if could take her picture, she agreed.

We met for breakfast at a bakery of which I had fond memories - I used to live in the neighborhood a couple of years back, and starting Sunday with croissants from Carredda's had always been an experience reminiscent of holidays in Italy. Later on we walked through the city, and - as I tried showing her the sights in Zurich's former industrial district - discovered places I had never been to before.

On our way back to the city center the snowfall intensified, and I decided to try taking her portrait in those conditions. I wanted to take more pictures in a café in the old town, but there the camera made her nervous; and since I knew I already had captured her lovely smile with the first shot, there was no real need.

S.: thanks for the interesting chat, and your patience with a couch-surfing novice. Have a wonderful holiday!

11. Dominik

Today I was on a deadline. Since I was not going to have any spare time in the evening, I needed to find a sympathetic soul in my lunch break - a daunting task, given the fact that everybody else in the city was going to spend that exact same time actually having lunch. I got lucky nearby the university: Dominik had a look of stunned disbelief when I explained my project to him, but was up for a short chat.

Dominik did not talk much about himself, but rather wanted to know more about my motivation for Meet a Stranger a Day; as it turns out he has found a different, excellent way to get to know people - he's a couch surfer. For those of you not familiar with the concept of couch surfing: couch surfers all over the world offer to provide you with a roof and a bed in their home for a few nights, under the condition that you will do the same for others (edit: Dominik has emailed me to correct this - there is no such condition. See also my shiny new couch surfer profile). It's a concept that enriches the life of both the host and the guest; whoever offers a couch can meet people (and make friends) from all over the world without all the hassle of actually traveling - and in return, the traveler is a guest more than a tourist.

Dominik was not very comfortable with being on camera, and seemed to grow more and more self-conscious. We decided to wrap it up after 16 photographs, of which I've selected the third.

My thanks go to Dominik, for his spontaneity and goodwill.

Camera-shy.