(Yeah, it's been that long--sorry about that!)
Actually, speaking of That Gold Medal Game (I am master of the segue...), it reminds me of a fantastic anecdote! It seems like it was only 'yesterday'...
Living in a goshiwan in Nakseongdae (which, incidentally, is being featured in this month's issue of "Closet Living"), I spent most of my time chasing after jobs that were not to be. I would then drown my sorrows in the greasy run-off from several orders of samgyeopsal (for the uninitiated, here's the short description: The Koreans have managed to make bacon into a meal). Luckily, I could look to Olympic hockey for solace and a sort of cultural homecoming.
So, when Team Canada made it to the semi-finals, it was imperative that I find a good venue to watch the game--I would cheer at the glowy box alone no more!! I made an arrangement with Jeremy: we treked for an hour on the subway to Itaewon in central Seoul to seek out the Rocky Mountain Tavern--the only 'Canadian' pub in Korea. We watched the game surrounded by Canadians, on a Canadian television feed (CTV) with Canadian commercials--in ENGLISH! It was an amazing time, and, of course, WE WON!
We all knew that the gold medal match was slated to start 18 hours later, at 5AM local time, so a chant quickly developped in the pub: "5-A-M!! 5-A-M!!" It was not creative, but it did the trick--the owner consented to open his bar at 5AM, so that we could watch the game.
So, that brings me to the next morning at 4:15 AM. I woke up ten minutes later than I wanted to, so I quickly pulled on the first clothes that my hand touched and rapped on Jeremy's door (we were neighbours in our cell-block). We got downstairs by 4:30, and we had to catch a taxi, because the subways didn't start running for another 40 minutes.
We got to the Rocky Mountain Tavern, and we were delighted to see that the lights were on. We jumped out of the taxi, and we saw a steady stream of people coming out of the building.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Don't even bother--you'll never even make it up the stairs, and forget about getting close enough to see a television!" replied one would-be viewer.
It seemed that word of our tavern's special opening spread a bit too far too fast... But then we got a hot tip from the passing exodus:
"Go to Phillies pub in Hwabongsan, that's where we're going. Take a taxi, it'll only cost you the minimum fare!"
So, into a cab we went. Next stop: Hwa... hwa... hwabongsa...n. (Never been there, didn't know anything about it, except that apparently it was close, and therein lied the prospect of hockey watching.)
Jeremy and I stepped out of the cab--the driver didn't ask us where we wanted to go, he just dropped us off, so we figured this must be the place. Well, it was now 5:20, and we didn't see Phillies anywhere. I went into a couple of 24 restaurants and exercised my modest Korean (blended with English and Konglish), but apparently all I did was spook people, so I quickly gave up. Jeremy, on the other hand, tried a convenience store and had a lead!!
Here's Korean hospitality at its finest for you: Jeremy went into a convenience store at 5:20 AM, and asked for directions to a pub. The lady at the counter didn't understand him very well, and didn't know where he wanted to go, but she phoned an English speaker to come to the store at 5:20 AM just to help us out!!
Feeling unduly obliged, we decided that we should at least give this store some of our business, so we bought some snacks and some coffees while we waited in the store. Not five minutes later, a car pulled up. But... wait... ... ... it... ... it's a police car.......... And two police came out, and came into the store...
"You have made some problem?"
These are not words that a foreigner wants to hear from a cop in the middle of the night.
We quickly (but not TOO quickly) attempted to explain that:
a)we were sober
b)we were Canadian
c)we don't want any trouble
d)we just want to watch a hockey game
e)we were looking for a pub called "Phillies"
I guess we were successful enough, because the didn't take out their handcuffs. Instead, the officer said, "You want where?"
"Phillies..."
The officer took out a notepad and a pen, "Please. Write."
I scanned Jeremy's eyes for the correct orthography, and found only the same sleepy uncertainty I was trying to overcome. I wrote my best guess, banking on the American chic.
"AHH, FEELEES!"
"So, you know it?"
"Yes"
"And it is close?"
"Yes"
... ... ... "How do we get there?"
The officer looked at his partner, then walked to the door. "Come with us."
So that, my friends, is how Jeremy and I got a ride in the back of a police cruiser to watch the second half of Canada's march to victory over the US in Olympic hockey. We watched the game in mixed company (by company, I mean Americans and Canadians; and by mixed I mean like oil and water), and you could almost smell the border-battle rivalry. (But you couldn't actually smell it, because it was slightly overpowered by the smell of people who had been drinking since 11PM the night before).
In any case, it was an amazing climax to a harrowing adventure. Jeremy and I walked out of Phillies at about 8:30AM, and went back to Itaewon to celebrate with a western-style breakfast. Pancakes, bacon, and a LOT of gloating with our fellow Canadian diners!!
Stay tuned--More catching up to be posted soon. Next stop, late-March! I'm about to get a job!! Maybe...
