Seoul Korean Quotes

In Seoul, people like me get called Japanese bastards, and in Japan, I'm just another dirty Korean no matter how much money I make or how nice I am. So what the fuck?

These seven strangers had come from all over the country to Seoul and become each other’s family. Inside the most commercial system of the Korean music industry, where incredible amounts of capital, human resources, marketing, and technology converge, BTS—ironically enough—found a family in each other.

It’s April 2006. It’s a Saturday. I’m walking through a market in Seoul, Korea, having a very public screaming match with a young Chinese-Korean woman whom I have recently promoted to Asia-Pacific Regional Manager. Despite the promotion, she is not happy. I think she wants my job. Right now, I’d happily give it to her if it would shut her up and calm me down. If I’d wanted a screaming match, I could have stayed at home; no, correct that, I’ve never had a domestic dispute as loud and unpleasant as this is turning out to be.

Xuan and I had decided to take a trip together in honor of our one-thousand-day anniversary. We ate Korean barbecue, shared a decadent cake, and then drove three and a half hours to Yosemite. I’d never heard of such an occasion. But in Seoul, where Ji-Hoon was born and raised, there was almost a monthly holiday devoted to romance. We wore similar out- fits, which Xuan said was common for couples in Asian countries. Three years was a big deal, especially when we didn’t know how many more we’d have.

you learned from a Korean poet in Seoul: that one does not bury the mother's body in the ground but in the chest, or--like you-- you carry her corpse on your back.

During the school year, I practically lived in Dongguk’s modern, glass-walled library, with its stacks of tantalizing books and its high-speed Internet access. It became my playground, my dining room, and sometimes my bedroom. I liked the library best late at night, when there were fewer students around to distract me. When I needed a break, I took a walk out to a small garden that had a bench overlooking the city. I often bought a small coffee from a vending machine for a few cents and just sat there for a while, staring into the sea of lights that was metropolitan Seoul. Sometimes I wondered how there could be so many lights in this place when, just thirty-five miles north of here, a whole country was shrouded in darkness. Even in the small hours of the morning, the city was alive with flashing signs and blinking transmission towers and busy roadways with headlights traveling along like bright cells pumping through blood vessels. Everything was so connected, and yet so remote. I would wonder: Where is my place out there? Was I a North Korean or a South Korean? Was I neither?

When told the capital of South Korea, Seoul, was so close to the North Korean border that millions of people would likely die in the first hours of any all-out war, Trump had a bold response, "They have to move." The officials in the oval office weren't sure if he was joking. He raised his voice. "They have to move!

The North Korean capital, Pyongyang, is a city consecrated to the worship of a father-son dynasty. (I came to think of them, with their nuclear-family implications, as 'Fat Man and Little Boy.') And a river runs through it. And on this river, the Taedong River, is moored the only American naval vessel in captivity. It was in January 1968 that the U.S.S. Pueblo strayed into North Korean waters, and was boarded and captured. One sailor was killed; the rest were held for nearly a year before being released. I looked over the spy ship, its radio antennae and surveillance equipment still intact, and found photographs of the captain and crew with their hands on their heads in gestures of abject surrender. Copies of their groveling 'confessions,' written in tremulous script, were also on show. So was a humiliating document from the United States government, admitting wrongdoing in the penetration of North Korean waters and petitioning the 'D.P.R.K.' (Democratic People's Republic of Korea) for 'lenience.' Kim Il Sung ('Fat Man') was eventually lenient about the men, but not about the ship. Madeleine Albright didn't ask to see the vessel on her visit last October, during which she described the gruesome, depopulated vistas of Pyongyang as 'beautiful.' As I got back onto the wharf, I noticed a refreshment cart, staffed by two women under a frayed umbrella. It didn't look like much—one of its three wheels was missing and a piece of brick was propping it up—but it was the only such cart I'd see. What toothsome local snacks might the ladies be offering? The choices turned out to be slices of dry bread and cups of warm water. Nor did Madeleine Albright visit the absurdly misnamed 'Demilitarized Zone,' one of the most heavily militarized strips of land on earth. Across the waist of the Korean peninsula lies a wasteland, roughly following the 38th parallel, and packed with a titanic concentration of potential violence. It is four kilometers wide (I have now looked apprehensively at it from both sides) and very near to the capital cities of both North and South. On the day I spent on the northern side, I met a group of aging Chinese veterans, all from Szechuan, touring the old battlefields and reliving a war they helped North Korea nearly win (China sacrificed perhaps a million soldiers in that campaign, including Mao Anying, son of Mao himself). Across the frontier are 37,000 United States soldiers. Their arsenal, which has included undeclared nuclear weapons, is the reason given by Washington for its refusal to sign the land-mines treaty. In August 1976, U.S. officers entered the neutral zone to trim a tree that was obscuring the view of an observation post. A posse of North Koreans came after them, and one, seizing the ax with which the trimming was to be done, hacked two U.S. servicemen to death with it. I visited the ax also; it's proudly displayed in a glass case on the North Korean side.

The North Korean people did not choose to be poor. They did not choose to have scores of windowless buildings and miles of barren farmland through which I had just been driven earlier that morning. North Koreans, I thought, are genetically as capable of producing what I saw from that helicopter over Seoul. Politics prevented them from doing so.

When Korea was divided, we were still nationals of a unified Korea. It was called Choson. At separation, the Japanese government gave us permission to keep our Korean identity, but we had to choose between North and South. Many people chose the North, because of their family or because they considered the North more in line with our country’s traditions. There was no way of knowing how things would turn out. Your grandmother and I chose the South because we were from Seoul. That was the only reason. We knew nothing about any of the rest of it. Political questions meant nothing to us, the Cold War, Russia, the United States. Koreans who live in Japan have never known North and South Korea. We are all people of Choson. People from a country that no longer exists.

During Carter’s visit to Seoul in 1979, President Park angered him by delivering what Carter called in his journal “an abusive harangue” about how even that tiny reduction in forces—just 0.5 percent of the six hundred thousand South Korean troops already defending the country—would jeopardize his national security. Carter ignored Park’s rudeness because he had what he considered a higher purpose: saving his soul. On the last day of his visit, after official business was completed, he talked to the South Korean president about becoming a Christian. Like Gierek in Poland, Park never fully embraced Christianity, but Carter’s unusual decision to raise the matter strengthened religious freedom in South Korea.

Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan were very different presidents, but the transition between the two early in 1981 was marked by a historic bit of collaboration. Convinced that the firmly anti-Communist Reagan wouldn’t object, the South Korean dictatorship prepared to execute the country’s best-known liberal dissident, Kim Dae-jung. At Carter’s request, Reagan sent his top national security aide to Seoul with the message that he did object—firmly. Kim Dae-jung’s life was spared, and eighteen years later, I had the pleasure of meeting with him following his election as Korea’s president.

The Korean equivalent of “looking for a needle in a haystack” is “looking for Mr. Kim in Seoul.” Indeed, more than 21 percent of the population bears that family name. A further 15 percent bears the name Lee, and around 9 percent goes by Park.

PV became the first Indian prime minister to travel to the Republic of Korea. In Seoul, he urged Korean chaebol to invest in India in a big way. In 1991, there was no major Korean brand available in the Indian market. A decade later, Samsung and Hyundai had become household names across

Ten thousand people were baptized in the Han river in Seoul, Korea. Imagine! 10,000 people giving their lives to Christ at one time! I will never forget it! ----I felt that the constant prayers of the Korean people had made the difference. I think we in the west should take prayer more seriously.

Korea was my Zion. I had read too many British novels about wretched children finding out they were actually of noble birth and I was expecting to be salaamed upon arriving at the Seoul airport.

Sadly, I know more about the War of the Roses in medieval England and Henry VIII and his six wives than I do about Korean history, especially in the twentieth century. I have been colonized by the white gaze, white standards, white expectations.

They came from peasant backgrounds, had hated the Japanese colonization of Korea, and believed that the Americans and their proxies in Seoul were agents of the past, not enablers of the future; the Americans were now the allies of the Japanese, as well as the old Korean ruling class, and thus this was a continuation of the struggle that had forced them to leave their native soil years earlier. The leadership of the South Korean Army was in their minds a reflection of those Koreans who had fought alongside the Japanese, and in the upper-level ranks this was often true. The North Koreans troops had trained hard and were extremely well disciplined and motivated. They camouflaged themselves exceptionally well, stayed off the roads, and often moved over the harsh terrain by foot, as the Americans did not. Like the Chinese Communists who had trained them and with whom they had fought, they tended to avoid all-

The examples of Trump’s irrational and often deeply strained relationship with the Pentagon are abundant. In Trump and His Generals: The Cost of Chaos, Peter Bergen cites many. For example: “When told the capital of South Korea, Seoul, was so close to the North Korean border that millions of people would likely die in the first hours of any all-out war, Trump had a bold response, ‘They have to move.

February 25: Mr. and Mrs. Rupe write to Marilyn about their son’s reaction to her Korean trip. They quote his letter to them: “When she appeared on the stage, there was just a sort of gasp from the audience—a single gasp multiplied by the 12,000 soldiers present, was quite a gasp. . . . She is certainly making a lot of friends here . . . unlike the other entertainers . . . after the show she autographed, chatted, and posed for pictures. Then thru all the trucks and jeeps she rode perched on top of the seat of her jeep, smiling and waving. . . . She came to the divisions that have been so long on the line, and by-passed the easy duty in Seoul, Inchon, and the sunshine cities.” One of the soldier’s parents adds, “You are a real soldier. I know what the trip cost you. But you didn’t disappoint those boys.

Even before he threw out the first pitch for the Doosan Bears at a baseball game in Seoul last weekend - which resulted in a diplomatic strike - Mark Lippert was on a winning streak. Dressed in a Bears cap and a jersey with his name in Korean on the back, he walked onto the field and introduced himself. "Hello, I'm Mark Lippert, the American ambassador to South Korea," he said in heavily accented Korean, and the crowd erupted in cheers. "Nice to meet you, baseball fans. I'm feeling good." South Korea is the

Seoul: N.Korea again fires short-range projectiles 472 words SEOUL, South Korea (AP) -- North Korea on Saturday continued its string of rocket and missile firings, launching three short-range projectiles into the waters off its east coast ahead of a major holiday celebrated by both Koreas, a South Korean defense official said.

David (Paul) Cho now heads Yoido Full Gospel Church in Seoul, Korea, generally regarded as the largest church in the world today. But as a young man he was a Buddhist, dying of tuberculosis in hopeless poverty. He had heard that “the God of the Christians” helped people, healed people, so where he was he simply asked “their” God to help him. And their God did. He healed this young Korean man, and taught him, and gave him an abundance of the kingdom life that was and is in Jesus, the Son of man. And now that same life flows through David Cho to thousands of others.

Kwon Tae-jin, a specialist on North Korean agriculture at the Korea Rural Economic Institute, which is funded by the South Korean government, told me in Seoul. In the far north, where food supplies are historically lean and farmers are regarded as politically hostile, the military takes a quarter of total grain production, Kwon

I wouldn't want this to turn into a generic Asian hodgepodge, for example. Or a brand where the Korean part is no longer core to the business. Or the branding is offensive. Remember when Abercrombie and Fitch had all those offensive Asian T-shirts a few years back? I wouldn't want that to happen." Wyatt slurped his straw. "Jessie, sometimes you really overthink it all. For a company your size, the offer is more than fair. You'll have so much money, you can go invest it somewhere and retire on a secluded beach. These guys, Rich and Tommy, they have vision! They make magic happen with any business they acquire. Their Persian Eats cookbook based on their Netflix series has held the number one spot on the bestseller list for three months. The author is this fancy Culinary Institute of the Arts instructor. Dudley something; I forget his name, some English dude. Tommy, didn't you tell me he was chomping at the bit to do a splashy Seoul Sistas cookbook?" My whole body tensed. "We already have one coming out. And did you just say a White dude would be writing a Korean Seoul Sistas cookbook?" He backtracked in the most Wyatt-like way. "I never said that exactly. And I didn't say he was White." "With a name like Dudley, he's not exactly a sista." The silence in the room was palpable. Wyatt asked, "So no deal? Any smart business leader would jump at this opportunity." My God. Was he serious? "No deal." I looked at Daniel, pleading for any lifeline he could throw me to get me out of there. He stood from his chair. "Rich, Tommy, as always, it's been a pleasure working with you these last few weeks, but my contract ends now, at five P.M. And Wyatt, I'm respectfully declining your offer of full-time employment." Wyatt's mouth formed a perfect O. "But... why?" "I have a new client to counsel. Jessie Kim. And effective immediately, we'll be declining your offer and evaluating all of our options for selling or retaining her business." I stood and pushed the chair back with my leg. "Thank you so much for finding time to meet with me, and it was great meeting you, Rich and Tommy." Shooting a death stare at Wyatt, I continued, "As a smart business leader in a new and growing category, it's best for me now to consider my options and explore alternatives.

On our final night in Seoul, Nami and Emo Boo took us to Samwon Garden, a fancy barbecue spot in Apgujeong, a neighborhood my mom once described as the Beverly Hills of Seoul. We entered through the beautiful courtyard garden, its two man-made waterfalls flowing under rustic stone bridges and feeding the koi pond. Inside the dining room were heavy stone-top tables, each equipped with a hardwood charcoal grill. Nami slipped the waitress twenty thousand won, and our table quickly filled with the most exquisite banchan. Sweet pumpkin salad, gelatinous mung-bean jelly topped with sesame seeds and scallions, steamed egg custard, delicate bowls of nabak kimchi, wilted cabbage and radish in salty, rose-colored water. We finished the meal with naengmyeon, cold noodles you could order bibim, mixed with gochujang, or mul, served in a cold beef broth.

We visited Gwangjang Market in one of Seoul's oldest neighborhoods, squeezing past crowds of people threading through its covered alleys, a natural maze spontaneously joined and splintered over a century of accretion. We passed busy ajummas in aprons and rubber kitchen gloves tossing knife-cut noodles in colossal, bubbling pots for kalguksu, grabbing fistfuls of colorful namul from overbrimming bowls for bibimbap, standing over gurgling pools of hot oil, armed with metal spatulas in either hand, flipping the crispy sides of stone-milled soybean pancakes. Metal containers full of jeotgal, salt-fermented seafood banchan, affectionally known as rice thieves, because their intense, salty flavor cries out for starchy, neutral balance; raw, pregnant crabs, floating belly up in soy sauce to show off the unctuous roe protruding out from beneath their shells; millions of minuscule peach-colored krill used for making kimchi or finishing hot soup with rice; and my family's favorite, crimson sacks of pollack roe smothered in gochugaru, myeongnanjeot.

Hanawon, located about forty miles south of Seoul, means “House of Unity.” The campus of redbrick buildings and green lawns surrounded by security fences was built in 1999 by South Korea’s Ministry of Unification, a cabinet-level agency created to prepare for the day when North and South would somehow be reunited. Its programs are designed to help defectors transition into a modern society—something that will have to happen on a massive scale if North Korea’s 25 million people are ever allowed to join the twenty-first century. The Republic of Korea has evolved separately from the Hermit Kingdom for more than six decades, and even the language is different now. In a way, Hanawon is like a boot camp for time travelers from the Korea of the 1950s and ’60s who grew up in a world without ATMs, shopping malls, credit cards, or the Internet. South Koreans use a lot of unfamiliar slang,

South Koreans fear that the collapse of Kim Jong-il’s regime will see their country overrun by 23 million people in need of food and shelter. Although political correctness dictates that all Koreans yearn for their missing kin (“reunification is our desire, even in our dreams,” South Korean schoolchildren dutifully sing), some view the prospect with dread. Think tanks in Seoul regularly churn out reports estimating how much it would cost to reunify, with figures ranging from $300 billion to $1.8 trillion.

Unlike the Chinese, the Mongolians allowed the South Korean embassy in Ulaanbaatar, the Mongolian capital, to accept North Korean defectors. In fact, if North Koreans managed to sneak across the Chinese border into Mongolia, they would be arrested by Mongolian border police and turned over to be deported—to South Korea. Getting arrested in Mongolia was in essence a free plane ticket to Seoul. As a result, Mongolia had become a major depot on what had become a veritable underground railroad ushering North Koreans into South Korea.

Joo Sung-ha, a North Korean defector from Chongjin who became a journalist in Seoul, told me he believed that Kim Jong-il had tacitly agreed to let women work privately to relieve the pressure on families. “If the ajummas [married women] hadn’t been allowed to work, there would have been a revolution,” he said.

I loved my little grandmother Hwang with her wooden leg. She never got upset with me, even when I cried and pestered her to carry me on her back like a horse. She was a wonderful storyteller; I would sit with her for hours as she told me about her childhood in the South. ... Most of her stories were from the time of Chosun, when there was no North or South Korea, only one country, one people. She told me we had the same culture and shared the same traditions as the South. She also told me a little bit about the time she visited Seoul, although even saying the name was forbidden in North Korea. You just didn't mention such an evil place. I knew it existed only from propaganda, newspaper articles describing anti-imperialist demonstrations by its oppressed masses. But somehow my grandmother planted deep inside me a curiosity about this place she had loved. She told me, "Come to my grave someday, and tell me that the North and South are reunited.

Philosophy begins by asking the question "Why?" As humanity meets myriad phenomena and objects. That is, it starts from asking the question "why is this?" About all phenomena and things, and trying to give a rational answer to it. This is now a problem consciousness shared by virtually all disciplines, and philosophy can soon be regarded as the source of many other disciplines. ADHD환자용으로 이용되는 페니드 애더럴 등 좋은제품으로 모셔드리겠습니다 카톡【AKR331】텔레【RDH705】라인【SPR331】위커【SPR705】 경영4년차로 단골분들 엄청모시고 운영하는 신용신뢰의 거래처입니다 24시간 언제든지 연락주세요 Compared to general Korean guidebooks, the proportion of pictures is small, and the amount of text and information is high. Therefore, it is often explained more in detail than the Korean guidebook. [3] Because it is a book for people from all over the world, there are local boards in Korea that have no guidebooks. For example, Central Asia. With the exception of The World, which has a language conversation house and other special guidebooks and general tourist information from all countries around the world, it is generally published in three categories: a regional guidebook - a country guidebook - a city guidebook, [4] The amount of information is, of course, increasing as the range of treatment is narrowed. Russia, for example, is covered in Eastern Europe, the guidebook for the country, Russia, the guidebook for the country, and Moscow - Saint Petersburg, the city guidebook. There is also a special guidebook, the Trans - Siberian Railway. In the United States, where the largest number of countries are issued, the five-tiered configuration can be seen in the United States - US West - California - California Coast - San Francisco. There are even guidebooks for different national parks in North America. On the other hand, North Korea comes out with a bill (...) in Pyongyang guidebook. The extreme courses, Brunei and Luxembourg, which are very small, are treated like appendices of Malaysia and Belgium, respectively. Travelable areas can be found both in the National Guide Book or in the Regions Guide Book. In the case of Iraq, which is the most unreachable area, it is also included in the guidebook of the Middle East centered on Kurdistan which is practically possible to travel. Somalia has Somaliland in Ethiopia & Djibouti. On the other hand, popular attractions such as France and London are revised every two years, and the top tourist attractions, such as Rome, were revised in 2013 and 2014. Even if it is somewhat unpopular, it will be revised for up to 5 years. In Korea, Lonely Planet does not have much of a mistake, but there are opinions that it is too old for price information or many reasons. [5] If you read it carefully, there are a lot of things that you feel are not written for "travelers", but for those who came to "foreign language instructors". And even if Korea is small, there are some opinions that the amount is too poor for the guidebooks of the two Koreas. One of the advantages of Korea is that public transportation is cheap and well developed, and travel information is concentrated only in certain areas of Seoul.

The border between North and South Korea is narrow, and the distance from Pyongyang to Seoul is barely 120 miles. Yet the two countries are as far away from each other as any in the world.

Thirty years earlier, Mina Lee steps off a plane to take a chance on a new life in America. Stacking shelves at a Korean grocery store, the last thing she expects is to fall in love. But that moment will have shattering consequences for Mina, and everything she left behind in Seoul.

You’re Korean, Hara. Even though you grew up in America. Even though you speak English and not Korean. Even though you feel like you’re different when you open your mouth. You are Korean where it counts. Here.” He draws a finger across the blue veins in my wrist. “The same blood that flows in me flows in you. My ancestors are your ancestors. Where you were raised and who you were raised by doesn’t change that. If anything, your experience makes you all the more Korean because what is a Korean but someone who has experienced loss and still survived?

Under Kim Jong-il’s direction, the Korean Feature Film Studio on the outskirts of Pyongyang was expanded to a 10-million-square-foot lot. It churned out forty movies per year. The films were mostly dramas with the same themes: The path to happiness was self-sacrifice and suppression of the individual for the good of the collective. Capitalism was pure degradation. When I toured the studio lot in 2005, I saw a mock-up of what was supposed to be a typical street in Seoul, lined with run-down storefronts and girly bars.

North Koreans took up the aesthetics of China. Culturally and visually, the nation seemed to have grown to resemble China. And this made me wonder: If North Koreans were to see Seoul today, would it look American to their eyes? Sixty-some years ago, the superpowers had artificially divided Korea, and this Chinese Korea was the legacy of that division.

The reason it looked simple,” Smith later boasted, “was that professionals were doing it.” 2 TRAITOR’S HOUSE Seoul Twenty miles to the northeast, the citizens of Seoul waited anxiously, bracing themselves for the coming Americans.

Fifty years ago, South Korea was an impoverished, war-torn country that lurched from brutal dictatorship to chaotic democracy and then dictatorship again. Few expected it to survive as a state, let alone graduate to becoming a prosperous and stable model for developing countries the world over-and one with an impressive list of achievements in popular culture, to boot. Quite simply, South Koreans have written the most unlikely and impressive story of nation building of the last century. For that reason alone, theirs deserves to be called "the impossible country." South Korea is home to not one, but two miracles. The first is the often-referenced "Miracle on the Han River," the extraordinary economic growth that led the country out of poverty and on the road to wealth, in the 1960s, '70s, and '80s. That South Korea had a GDP of less than US $100 per capita in 1960, precious few natural resources, and only the most basic (and war-ravaged) infrastructure seems scarcely believable looking around Seoul these days. The second miracle is just as precious, though. As recently as 1987, South Korea was a military dictatorship, but today, it has stable, democratic leadership. As other Asian nations like Singapore, and now China, promote a mix of authoritarianism and capitalism, South Korea stands out in the region as an example of a country that values not just wealth but also the rule of law and rights for its citizens. There is another, more negative, source of inspiration for the subtitle, though. As we shall see, genuine contentment largely eludes the people of South Korea, despite all their material success and stability. This is a country that puts too much pressure on its citizens to conform to impossible standards of education, reputation, physical appearance, and career progress. Worldwide, South Korea is second only to Lithuania in terms of suicide per capita. The problem is getting worse, rather than better: between 1989 and 2009, the rate of suicide quintupled. South Korea therefore is "impossible" in its astonishing economic and political achievements but also in the way that it imposes unattainable targets on its people.