Ilsan: Engineered Serenity

Today, as most other days, I waddled my way to Ilsan Lake Park. Ilsan is the city I ended up roosting in and to tell you the truth, I could have done much worse. The city is part suburb/part planned community. It was created (as in a city did not exist in this location before Ilsan was built) for those of a certain income to live outside of the density and rush of Seoul while still living a comfortable distance from work (roughly about 20 minutes by subway).

I guess the main feature of Ilsan is the manmade lake park, called Hosugongweon. It really is a marvel of planning, the park spans a stunning 5km stretch, the smooth, glassy surface of the lake reaching 3.9km around. In the mornings I like to jog here. Well...I say jog, but I mean sort of...waddle and jog. Okay, I mostly just jog the crosswalks, something you have to do anyway here because...ya know...you'll get run the hell over if you don't. That may sound like an exaggeration but...someone got run over on my first week here, right outside the windows of the school so I've become a bit paranoid when it comes to trusting the driver's here.

The rule of thumb is that the drivers have the right of way. Even the crosswalks signs pause before letting pedestrians through, a full five seconds behind a green traffic light. Driving here is not a privilege, it's a symbol of status. "I have enough money to own a car and drive it like an insane person" seems to be the message behind the many Jaguars and other expensive vehicles littering the streets at all hours. Yesterday morning a bus ran into a little white coup right in front of my apartment. Apparently, as I'm told, the drivers here aren't trained like they are in America, or more accurately, they aren't trained at all. One could lose "face" if one were to be confronted with the insinuation that, though one is the CEO of Random-Mart, one doesn't know the first damned thing about driving. The problem with not losing face is that, later on, someone else will likely lose their left heel or the ability to walk in a straight line or their ability to have an unbroken nose.

At Ilsan Lake Park one is able to see, at all hours, every "type" of Korean citizen. The most infamous and hilarious of these is the "ajumma" or "Auntie". This is a woman who, having reached the ripe old age of 38, has doffed any kind of sense and instead become obsessed with becoming 25 again. To turn back the wheels of time, these matching sweatsuit clad aunties will powerwalk with their arms pumping impossibly high, clenching...well...clenching everything clenchable, I'm certain. These are women on a mission, a mission to turn back the hands of time with a good moisturizer, a neat perm and what can only be described as the backpiece of Darth Vader's helmet turned around to the front. They look ready to simultaneously gamble, weld and take over the universe. These tinted visor/screens are rampant and sometimes, mirthful reader, accompanied by a face mask to complete their assertion of intergalactic couture. Hysterical as this looks (imagine a brown poodle hiding behind the sneezeguard of a salad bar), I'm told there is a purpose. Apparently these women want to look as pale as possible, since their generation particularly revered the pallid and wan among them.

These same women, at times, will stop me in my tracks to ask me if I'm American and then poke my stomach, I think just to check and see that I'm not smuggling children in there. Trust me, Ajummatic reader, there's nothing in there but fat and regret...oh and also a little fried chicken from last night. Yummo!

Also at the lake are the couples, some of them in the nauseating sartorial phenomenon known as "couple wear". It's not that they think that wearing matching outfits looks good, it's just a way for the women to show how much power they have over their husbands. "Look at me! I can get this successful business owner to wear a pink polo and high-waisted plaid slacks!" It's gross, but effective.

There are also mommies "Omma" and daddies "Appa" all around, documenting every breath that their child takes, showing how good daddy is with the children so that he can feel good about spending most of his waking hours at work. -sigh- I feel bad for a lot of these kids but...especially bad for the mothers. It really is kind of like the 50's over here: Daddy comes home from work to find the house clean, the children happy, the mother looking fabulous and all he has is fun time with the kiddies. Meanwhile during the day mother is wrestling with the kid, disciplining, shopping, menstruating, all of those things, just so that the husband can come home at 10pm to play with the kid, eat and pass out for four hours until work starts again the next day.

Picture Donna Reed.




Now stop picturing Donna Reed.

Okay, that was just an experiment.


Overall, the lake is a lovely place to go. Lots of ponds and bridges and lily pads and goldfish. It's really gorgeous and, though it's manmade, it has a peaceful dignity all its own. I like to go early, about 5:30. Only the elderly and the ajummae (not the official plural but I like it) are there. No children. No construction. It's really serene. The olden ones and I like to do our stretches. Somedays I feel like one of them...trying to make the best of what I've got. I also like to sit and meditate for a while, closing my eyes and trying to empty my mind for a while before my day begins.

It helps to take the edge off when the kids decide to channel the very powers of Beelzebub later on in the day.