Mail-Order Teacher: Mazes and Mayhem

Literally the second I finished writing my last post I realized that I really needed to get out of the apartment for a while. It was time to shake my near-fatal illness with some good old-fashioned exploration and discovery. I put on my jeans and sneakers and hit the streets—destination: Dongdaemun. I'd been through the subway station there plenty of times but never emerged, and an “off-beat” Seoul city guide online recommended it for some pretty crazy shopping. Boy, was that an understatement!

The second I poked my head out from underground, I did a quick 360. There were places to shop in every direction possible. Where to start? No longer afraid of getting lost, I picked a random direction and started walking. I found the first shopping center and went inside. Immediately, my mind started reeling as I wondered how I was going to put into words what I was seeing! I sneakily snapped as many pictures as I could out of sheer desperation even though it was awkward to do so. I was the only foreigner in the building.

Imagine a HUGE building with 8, maybe 9, maybe 10 floors, taking up at least one or two city blocks. Then imagine that every square inch—vertical and horizontal—is covered with little clothing-related items for sale. Boxes and boxes of buttons for miles, millions of spools of ribbons and lace from floor to ceiling, boas, boas, and more boas, and cloth in every conceivable and inconceivable print danced before my eyes. Stacks of folded blankets in every color imaginable were there. Men were getting measured for fancy suits made right there on the premises. Sequins and costume jewelry flashed from every angle, taunting me. I walked down the narrow aisles, up stairs, down stairs, backwards and forwards, twisting and turning through this maze of frantic fabric mayhem!

The building was divided into separate “shops,” or rather 15x15ft cubicles where one person was in charge of selling whichever item he/she specialized in. This went on for what seemed like miles. On different stories it was the same basic setup but with different types of cloth, or buttons, or what have you. Some cubes only had plaid cloth, for example; others seemed entirely random. One thing was for sure: if you like to sew your own clothes, you would have been in absolute heaven!

I meandered through that place until I couldn't take it anymore. The building was a living creature and had sucked me in. I realized I was lost somewhere in its bowels, and they were closing in on me. I wandered around, desperately looking for the light of day. I had no idea what floor I was on. Suddenly, I saw daylight and headed for the door, but when I reached it, I found that it was only a courtyard and I was not even on the ground level, but rather some obscure upper level of the monster. I was actually in the belly of the beast—the center courtyard where all the workers go for their cigarette break. About 30 smoking Korean men looked up at me where I was standing, confused. I was obviously out of place there. I looked straight ahead and walked to the other side like I owned the place, reentering the building. Cloth! Buttons! Lace! Boas! My head was spinning. I started to wonder if the buttons were actually people who had gotten lost in the building and never found their way out. Eventually I was going to be digested, turned into a shiny gold button, and dropped into a tray with the billions of others, never to be heard from again. I had to get out--and soon!

Several minutes later, I did find my way out. What a close one! I walked down the street, which was lined with vendors and little shops selling jackets, flags, patches, and books. I crossed a major intersection over a canal and snapped more pictures. Then I found the ApM—the famous mall of Dongdaemun. Somehow I couldn't resist the temptation of another shopping labyrinth and I ducked inside.

This shopping center was similar to the other in that it was also covered from floor to ceiling with merchandise for sale, but it was different in that the clothes were already sewn together. Hundreds of clothing vendors were eager to sell me a t-shirt or a handmade Korean charm necklace. I've heard stories of the funny t-shirts people here wear with completely inappropriate phrases in English, which they don't speak. Little girls, for example, will walk around donning vulgar language because no one has any idea what it says. I hadn't seen much of this yet since people are only just beginning to shed their winter coats. So, when I found a shirt that said "Hoochie Coochie Woman" on it several times, I couldn't resist and made it my first official Dongdaemun purchase. I really couldn't be any prouder.