Seoul travel blogs as American fantasy

A restaurant in Nagwon Arcade in Seoul / Korea Times file

Recently I read a blog post by an American family who travelled the world and, as part of their journey, spent 48 hours in Seoul. It is an old piece, though the site still seems to be active.

What struck me was that this family, who had travelled so far and seen so much, seemed to have left America in body only, not in mind. They came with a specific notion of Korea, and when they encountered any of Seoul’s quotidian realities that contradicted their mental image, they dismissed them and quickly left: “We were hoping for crazy foods and strange sights and smells, and without those, the four of us quickly grew bored. Time to move on to the next thing.”

Then they found “just what we wanted, the real deal”, which fit their preconceived version of Korea: “a small restaurant, a hole in the wall kind of place, with rickety chairs, dirty floors, and an open kitchen area.” They ate “multiple dishes of mystery food” and drank too much of what they thought was “Korean beer,” which turned out to be much stronger than they expected. They first suggest that it “may have been some version of Korean sake, although that is just a total guess on our part”; this was soju, of course, as the blog later corrects.

In short, they had a good time.

Based on their 48 hours in the city, they make what for me is the most egregious statement on the whole blog: “While there may not be a lot to strictly see and do in Seoul, the joy of this city comes from embracing the culture and making friends over Soju and Korean Barbeque.” This is a danger inherent to travel blogs: presenting thoughts based on very little actual experience as authoritative. But it is hard to read this sweeping generalization of one of the world’s biggest and most densely-populated cities without the word “arrogant” sidling, unbidden, into the consciousness. And, for that matter, “orientalism.”

What even is Seoul’s “real deal”? Why can’t the fancy places count as real? Or the bland, mediocre ones? Or even the Western ones? For that matter, there are plenty of small and dirty restaurants in America too: the only difference is that for the bloggers, Seoul was foreign, different, exotic.

Admittedly, subjecting an innocuous blog to such a harsh reading seems a little mean-spirited. I have not named the original site or linked to it because I don’t want to single them out for abuse. I’m sure there are far worse examples out there. And I do see their point: they want to experience different things in the world, not see the same things they could get at home. Indeed, the family seem to have a sincere desire to explore the world and learn as they travel.

Although the bloggers in this case were American, this is not a specifically American problem. Everyone makes mistakes when discussing or interacting with unfamiliar cultures: whether it’s massive oversimplifications or accidentally essentialising swathes of the world, it happens everywhere. The fundamental issues Edward Said raises in "Orientalism" are not limited to the West, whatever his book may suggest.

My favourite example of this is a twentieth century Korean edition of "Jane Eyre" which has for its cover image the Mona Lisa, conflating a Victorian English novel with an Early Modern Italian painting and thereby implying that all Europeans from all ages are in some way, basically the same. As such, it fulfils most criteria of Orientalism perfectly except, as it were, the direction.

The blog post revealed a very limited understanding of Korea — which is, of course, fair, since its authors spent such a brief time in the country. But it felt like they had wasted an opportunity; by actively rejecting the parts of Korea that didn’t conform to their expectations, their trip to Seoul was little more than an expensive and very high-resolution immersive VR ride.

Travelling for leisure, rather than for business or to visit family, is a fundamentally indulgent, even self-centred, act. I don’t mean that it is somehow wrong or bad, but simply that it is done for no other reason than the traveller’s own benefit. A year exploring the world is an adventure on which few of us will ever embark, though less intense forms of travelling still offer great opportunities. Given this, it seems right that we should put a bit more effort into doing it better.

I should clarify here: those who go hiking the Himalayas to “find themselves” or backpack across Australia or row across the Atlantic to improve their confidence and resilience will get a lot from their trip. All travel forces you, however closed-minded you start out, to see things differently. Also, it must be true that anyone who puts the time and money into travelling the world as a tourist really does have a desire to learn about other cultures and peoples.

The problem is that, while viewing new things abroad as exotic and filtering out everything else may tickle the brain, this mode of travelling leaves you with a lopsided view of everywhere you visit. You can’t see anything you don’t want to see. The underlying motivations for this probably come from deep-seated human instinct, but so do many other urges which we rightly suppress.

I’m not sure I have a perfect solution, but let’s start by not judging too harshly. Everyone online seems so quick to attack everyone else for any slip or indiscretion. It is incumbent on all of us, of whatever origin, to have understanding and sympathy, to show a bit of leeway when others make cultural faux pas. When people with a genuine desire to interact with others from different cultures have their mistakes pointed out with grace and humour — or even overlooked entirely — the world gets that tiny bit closer to harmony.

Although I can’t help feeling a little irked by their description of Korea, that blogging family upended their lives to see the world, even if they did not always express themselves perfectly. And they sought to understand other cultures through their travels. This is a worthy desire, and one that I share.