The Dreaded Commute

Andrew and I are luckier than most in terms of our daily commutes.  He bikes most days which takes about 20 minutes and my commute is a 20 minute walk or more frequently a 5 minute drive.  Piece of cake!

 

Recently I've started a training program at work though, that requires me to work at the district offices in Seoul about 60 miles away.  Anyone who has seen my '97 Hyundai Avante or experienced Seoul traffic will understand that driving is simply out of the question.  So instead I drive to the train station, take a 50 minute train ride, connect to the subway, and then walk a bit.  It's a good chance to catch up on podcasts and avoid road rage, although the downside is it takes 2 hours in each direction.  I'm still sorting out when to stay in Seoul overnight in a hotel and when to travel back and forth each day, but in the meantime I'm experiencing the Korean commute.

 

During my commutes, I always wonder, "Would this happen in New York City?"

 

1.  Running.  I want to perform a scientific study to determine the actual percentage of people running to catch their train, subway, or bus that I see each morning.  Sometimes I swear it's one third of people that are full-out booking it, even while swinging laptop cases or balancing coffee cups.  And flat shoes are seemingly unheard of in Korean women's fashion so it's particularly impressive to see these women running/tottering in 3-inch heels.  It occurs to me that with trains coming every 15 minutes or subways/buses every 3-5 minutes, an American would simply stroll along and not care about catching the next one if it means having to jog or sprint to catch it.  What's another few minutes?  Goodness knows that I (in my flats) am completely uninterested in running to get to work, unless of course NoKo is acting up and I can be safer on the U.S. Compound.

 

Sidenote: Korean women wear fancy high heels on the street but change into slippers at the office for comfort at their desks- seems like the opposite of the U.S., right?

 

2.  Silence.  With the people jam-packed inside rail cars or buses, it's eerily quiet.  In fact, the quiet is so disquieting to me that I must wear headphones.  Where are the people shouting into cell phones or causing noise pollution with loud headphones?  Even newspaper ruffling or snores are rare.  Creepy. 

 

3.  Pushers.  I think most of you have seen the YouTube clip of Japanese pushers in the subway system, essentially riot police with padded shields to "help" the maximum number of people fit onto the subway cars.  Here in Korea there are similar police but instead of pushing, their presence during rush hour is simply to be sure the rail cars shut with no obstructions- i.e. those last few Korean runners trying to get on don't get their coattails caught.  On several mornings I've been swept by a wave of rushing Koreans trying to fit onto the subway train and had to swim upstream, feeling like I'm fighting for my life.  Too hot, too close, too much!  Every time I say outloud, "Sooo not worth it" while I see the unsmiling faces crushed against the windows.  My mom's observation when she was here in October: it looks like they're going to the gas chambers.  My method is to try to find the least crowded train car, even if that means letting a few go by.  Usually I don't get claustrophobic but too many people in my personal space makes me very touchy (no pun intended).  I wonder if there is the concept of personal space in Korea?  There are 50 million people on this peninsula the size of Indiana with population density approximately twice that of NYC.... Probably not.