We both kind of resented Busan at first. Compared to Japan it was rough, unclean, and disorganized. Busan seemed crammed, pushy, and rude, which was a stark contrast to the clean, calm, and polite demeanor of Japan. The Busan subway etiquette is a perfect example. Riding the subway in Busan was a new kind of subway experience for us. The subway system itself was similar to others we have used the world over, but the people were a different from the riders of those trains. Tube passengers in London, for instance, want to get on their trains, ride to their destination, and get off while having been disturbed as little as possible. A perfect tube ride for most Londoners involves no eye contact or communication of any kind with strangers. Busan was different. First, staring in Korea is not taboo. Direct eye contact is considered bold, but unlike the U.S., and certainly Japan, blatantly staring at someone is never a
problem. And possessing white skin, enormous backpacks, and red hair are great ways to test this cultural nuance. Second, physical contact and, more specifically, pushing are not avoided in large crowds in Korea. Masses waiting to board trains rarely wait for passengers to disembark. Instead, pushing, shoving, and leaning are all common when riding the subway, or, for that matter when doing anything in a crowd in Korea. (Pushing to get where you want and a general lack of respect for the coveted, and apparently Western, concept of personal space remains the norm in China as well.) Later, we were startled to witness pushing, shoving, and general disorderly behavior coming out of a Catholic mass in Seoul. After the church pushing, a lady approached Jeff and said with a kind, genuinely embarrassed smile, "I'm sorry about my people, they can be so self-centered." The woman's comment met a lot, but we found no such apology in the mass transit underworld, train stations, or ticketing and check-out lines (where people routinely step in front of Westerners and each other, even when a clear line has formed). But the Busan subway etiquette taught us a little about Korean culture. At first, our reaction to being pushed and shoved was to get flustered or upset (particularly Jeff), but that did not get us anywhere so we decided to absorb it, observe it, and embrace it as part of Korea's personality.
Our introduction to Busan was a gruff one, with the strict enforcement of the white person tax on our first meal and getting lost on the busy, smelly, littered streets of Busan while being bumped, jostled, and otherwise molested. We stayed in Busan three nights and we left liking it because our following meals were delicious, unpretentious, and cheap. And because the temple tucked up in the mountains above it demonstrated the calm and spiritual side of Korean culture. We left with a good impression of Busan because we had one of the best street food sweet treats we've ever tasted there, because the beach was beautiful, and because it held hidden parks, markets, and shopping streets filled with character and charm. Although we like Busan more when we left than we did when we arrived, we still longed for many of the comforts of Japan. It wasn't until our dinner and night out with an English teacher in Andong named Davie that we really saw and developed an affection for the kinder, gentler side of Korea...
in Busan is one of the city's big tourist draws. Several buildings, alleys, and streets make up this smelly, jumbled mess of fish and people. There are tanks where you can pick out the fish you want to eat in upstairs restaurants. These types of places are all around Busan, and South Korea, but were most prevalent at the fish market. We passed on the experience, since the fish usually looked sick and just a few hours from death in their cramped, murky cells. We did wander the rows of fish, octopus, squid, and sea penises for nearly an hour. The opportunity to watch the butchering and cleaning of some of nature's grossest edibles was the second best reason for going to the fish market. The first, as always, was people watching.
Clapping and yelling are favorite marketing techniques of vendors in Korea and China, and the folks at the fish market mixed these tools with staring and waving. The vendors and possible customers all packed the market with an energy that almost made you forget the vomit-inducing smell of hot, half-rotting fish guts. But the most entertaining person we watched was a man in a suit who had passed out right by the railing between the back of the market walkway and the Pacific ocean. The gentleman apparently suffered from what doctors call, "Drinking too much." We found out later from friends living in South Korea that the drinking culture is brutal, involving nightly drinks until the wee hours of the morning between one day of work and the next. Hikers, fathers, businessmen, drunks, merchants, and university students all drink to excess on a very regular basis. Every country has its population that battles alcohol, but Korea's drinking culture is the only one we have encountered savage and unruly enough to have a (now restricted) website called Blackout Korea (
www.blackoutkorea.blogspot.com) dedicated to the over-drinking antics of its alcohol consumers.
problem. And possessing white skin, enormous backpacks, and red hair are great ways to test this cultural nuance. Second, physical contact and, more specifically, pushing are not avoided in large crowds in Korea. Masses waiting to board trains rarely wait for passengers to disembark. Instead, pushing, shoving, and leaning are all common when riding the subway, or, for that matter when doing anything in a crowd in Korea. (Pushing to get where you want and a general lack of respect for the coveted, and apparently Western, concept of personal space remains the norm in China as well.) Later, we were startled to witness pushing, shoving, and general disorderly behavior coming out of a Catholic mass in Seoul. After the church pushing, a lady approached Jeff and said with a kind, genuinely embarrassed smile, "I'm sorry about my people, they can be so self-centered." The woman's comment met a lot, but we found no such apology in the mass transit underworld, train stations, or ticketing and check-out lines (where people routinely step in front of Westerners and each other, even when a clear line has formed). But the Busan subway etiquette taught us a little about Korean culture. At first, our reaction to being pushed and shoved was to get flustered or upset (particularly Jeff), but that did not get us anywhere so we decided to absorb it, observe it, and embrace it as part of Korea's personality. 
Our introduction to Busan was a gruff one, with the strict enforcement of the white person tax on our first meal and getting lost on the busy, smelly, littered streets of Busan while being bumped, jostled, and otherwise molested. We stayed in Busan three nights and we left liking it because our following meals were delicious, unpretentious, and cheap. And because the temple tucked up in the mountains above it demonstrated the calm and spiritual side of Korean culture. We left with a good impression of Busan because we had one of the best street food sweet treats we've ever tasted there, because the beach was beautiful, and because it held hidden parks, markets, and shopping streets filled with character and charm. Although we like Busan more when we left than we did when we arrived, we still longed for many of the comforts of Japan. It wasn't until our dinner and night out with an English teacher in Andong named Davie that we really saw and developed an affection for the kinder, gentler side of Korea...
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