1 October 1999 · Essay contest entry — three years on the peninsula.

One friend is real. His name has been changed.

I find it very interesting that an essay contest with its subject concerning one’s life in South Korea has been declared. I have, for one, have had many interesting experiences while in South Korea: some good, some bad. I arrived on June 20th, 1997. Exactly fifteen days after I graduated from basic training, and about nine months since I joined the Army, I found myself riding a plane to St. Louis, then to Japan, and then finally to Kimpo Airport, in Seoul. I was 19 years old when I first arrived. Little did I know that I would remain on the peninsula for nearly three years…

I was asked what company would I like to be a member of. I said it wouldn’t matter to me, since I knew nothing about the five companies of 2nd battalion, 72d armor regiment. Eventually they sent me to Alpha Company, and it is there that I have remained to this day. Although a large part of my experiences in South Korea are closely involved with my life on post, I feel that it is closer to the scope of this essay’s requirements to discuss those which occurred to me while off-post.

I’ll begin by describing the typical nightlife of soldiers who leave post to search for their pleasures. This involves congregating with a bunch of friends and preparing for an evening full of heavy drinking. And so they begin the night with a case of beer to be drunk before heading off-post (or as the colorful soldier’s vocabulary would put it: “downrange.”) The typical nightlife would then proceed to more drinking in one of the many clubs to be found “downrange.” With shamefully large amounts of money being spent (wasted, actually) on drink and women (of very insidious character, for which I can testify), these people spend the rest of their nights in an alcohol-induced daze from which they recover only to find themselves without money, and with a hang-over. And that, my friend, is the typical nightlife for a typical soldier. I, however, have experienced the nightlife in a very different manner…

I have always been somewhat of a recluse…at least more so than most people have. It’s not that I have a dislike for people, only that I feel somewhat freer amongst small groups. And so I didn’t hang out with too many people at a time. Mostly it was just my close friend Gary and I. We’d oftentimes drink a little in the barracks and then go downtown to explore the streets of Korea at night.

I remember walking along roads late at night, with the bitingly frigid Korean winter wind whipping against my face, while watching fellow night owls stroll the streets with similar apathy to their surroundings. Gary and I would discuss the interesting phenomenon that was a total lack of concern for anything but the need to move about, to carry on. And so I learned a little about myself that day. I learned that no matter how much we have planned for the future, no matter how pressing are the demands of the present, there is always the imperious necessity of simply being, of doing.

Gary and I shared many experiences in South Korea. I fondly recall taking a train to Uijambou and going downtown for some shopping. I can still see the expectant faces of women in aprons enthusiastically awaiting a good sale. And only moments away was a black-market district with everything from Old Granddad to Old Spice for sale. Later that evening Gary and I went to a Korean movie theater to watch a foreign film.

Spending time in coffeehouses was another favorite pastime of mine. My friends and I would hang out and watch the regulars move in and out, making small talk between sips of coffee and bites of rice cake. I still remember listening to songs that had long since died out in the States playing boldly as if they’d just made the charts. Why, a few of them triggered memories of other countries I’ve lived, including Thailand, especially when listening to a song I’d not heard in years: “One Night in Bangkok.”

Associating with the locals is an adventure in itself. In order to remain courteous it is imperative that one keeps in mind the culture of the nation they are visiting. I’ve learned a lot from the many people I’ve had the good fortune of meeting in South Korea. Among the virtues of South Koreans, generosity and hospitality are among the most common. There are many citizens who will offer their assistance if they see someone in difficulty, and working closely with the KATUSA–Korean nationals who train hand-in-hand with the U.S. Army–I’ve had the opportunity to visit their homes and meet their families.

Composed 1999 · part of the Essays collection · authorship documented on the Provenance page.