Mr. Peter's Neighborhood: The Faces of Gocheok Dong

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

It's a neighborly day in this beautywood,
A neighborly day for a beauty,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you,
I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.

So let's make the most of this beautiful day,
Since we're together, we might as well say,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be my neighbor?
Won't you please,
Please won't you be my neighbor?

Fred Rogers

1928-2003

Hi Internet neighbor, I'm glad we're together again.

Before we voyage into more tales of life in Korea, I'd like to tell you a little bit about my mom and dad. They are two lovely people, people who usually share similar stances on most issues, yet have polar opposite opinions on others.  One such difference is their respective approach to the neighborhood.

My father took a page from the Mr. Rogers book of community etiquette. He could be gushing blood and driving himself to the hospital, and, should he come across one of our neighbors, he would most likely pull over the car, roll down the window, and strike up a conversation. He may not even particularly like said neighbor, but because their house is within walking distance of our own, he feels a civic responsibility to make small talk.

My mother, on the other hand, has a finely crafted technique of neighborhood small talk avoidance, a technique that involves a smile, a wave, and pressing her foot down a bit harder on the gas pedal.

Before coming to Korea, I lived my life sharing my mother's approach to neighborly etiquette. And in defense of this stance, the avoidance of initiating a conversation is actually well intentioned. Often times, these small talk situations are successfully avoided because, with all likelihood, your neighbor is also hoping that they will not have to talk with you. I like being social, but on my own terms, and when I am on the go, I often prefer to be a bit anonymous...

Anonymity in the Gocheok-dong community, however, is next to impossible. Though at times this can be irksome, I have recently come to embrace the Mr Rogers approach to friendly neighborhood living. My relationships with my Korean neighbors are often unconventional, but I am a proud member of the Gocheok community. So, without further delay, I would like to take you on a tour of my neighborhood.

I'm a creature of habit, and one such habit is picking up a coffee every morning before work. One of the employees of this cafe is an old woman who is of the judgemental persuasion. She sighs and tisks because I don't speak Korean as well as she would like me to, and she thinks the extra shot of espresso that I order in my latte is unnecessary, an opinion which she shares with me thorough sighs and head shakes. But, underneath the layers of judgement, there is a big twinkle in her eye that tells me, no matter how much she may criticize, we are chingus (friends). The most recent me quirk I presented her with to judge came in the form of my newly crafted duct tape wallet. Upon seeing my bright green sticky wallet, her face lit up with the most judgement I have ever seen come from a single person. Elation. Twenty seconds of silence were followed but a very sudden burst of hysterical laughter. The laughter ended almost as quickly as it began and the lines on her forehead showed me that my wallet had made its way through her judgement filters, and the verdict came back that this was not an age appropriate wallet. She grabbed it from me, examined it thoroughly, sighed again, and returned it. That day I spent my lunch break purchasing a nice pleather wallet appropriate for a 25 year old who looks 40 to most Koreans, and got to work on doing what any normal person would do in this situation... I started making her a duct tape wallet of her very own.

I have had this wallet sitting in my locker at work for weeks, trying to build up the courage to present my cynical elderly friend with her new gift. Finally the time came, and in what was perhaps the most confusing two minutes of my life, I was able to explain to her that yes, this wallet was a gift, and no, I would not be taking it with me when I left the coffee shop. In my mental land of make believe, I like to think that she uses it and loves it and tells stories to her grandchildren of the nice foreigner who orders an unecessary extra shot of espresso in his daily latte. Next step, get this woman a facebook page. I have a feeling she would rock the poke feature.

Next door to the cafe is our friendly neighborhood Kimbap shop. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Kimbap, I will quickly provide you with the Wikipedia description of this great, cheap Korean food.

"Kimbap is a popular Korean dish made from steamed white rice (bap) and various other ingredients, rolled in kim (seaweed) and served in bite-sized pieces."

I often will grab a roll of Tuna/Kimchi Kimbap for my lunch, it is only $2 and tastes pretty great. The two middle aged women who work at this shop speak little to no English, and like to use the time they spend rolling my Kimbap to have mini English lessons. I have taught them classic words such as "Tuna", "Seaweed", "Delicious" and "Long Time No See." I go through phases of not going in for a few weeks at a time, but every time I pass the shop, they smile and wave, and sometimes chase me down to give me free bits of dried squid. Recently, after a particularly long period of no Kimbap for lunch, I decided to go and say hi to my friends. I walked in the door and instantly Kimpap lady #1 turned to me and said, "I love you!"
Pause pause pause... Kimbap lady number 2 bursts out laughing, "No! You like he! LIKE he!"
"Ohhhhh," nods K.L.#1. "I like he."

The next stop on my tour of Gocheok Dong is the supermarket Dream Mart, just one door down from the Kimbap shop. Recently, Dream Mart hired a young guy to work the front cash register, a guy who hates his job and loves to talk. Conversations with him usually go like this...

"Ohhh! It's you!"
"Hi, how are you today?"
"Today is very very sucks." (the explanation is given in the form of a gesture indicating the cause of suck to be the whole of Dream Mart)

The initial greeting is always followed by an unrelated story, a story which, on a good day, I understand 7% of. One story went something like this...

"Angry. Very very angry old man Chinese. He the Chinese. I angry and he grandfather. He go Korea now and I very scary. Understand?"

"Yes." I reply. "See you tomorrow!"

Last week our encounter went as follows,

"Hi brother!"
"Hi, how are you today?"
"You handsome guy. I go your house?"
"Hmm. Not today."

Only in Korea would this not be a pickup line. That day, Dream Mart provided me with a bottle of water, Peanut M&Ms, and an ego boost.

The final stop on our tour today is an old woman who I have never spoken to, but see frequently. One of the first nights in my new apartment, I heard what sounded like a brutal poodle fight a few buildings over. This dog fight happens once or twice a week, only lasts about 15 minutes, and, is fought between a yard full of small dogs, and a tiny hunched over ancient Korean lady. This timid looking woman will hobble up to the fence, look the dogs in the eyes, and begin her 15 minutes of barking. She pays no attention to those of us who stop to watch, and when she has had her fill, she stops barking and continues on her way.

The venerable Mr. Rogers once said, "You always make each day a special day. By just you being you. There's only one person exactly like you in the whole world. And that's you yourself, and I like you. It's such a good feeling, a very good feeling, the feeling you know that we're friends."

So, to my neighbors, thank you for embracing this strange foreigner who refers to himself in the third person as Peter Teacher. I can't say for sure, but I think it is quite possible that Mr. Rogers spent some time in Gocheok Dong.

Until Next Time,

Peter Teacher