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A Tale of 3 Bookstores in Seoul, Part I: Bandi Luni’s

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In the course of my travels I’ve had the pleasure of visiting some special bookstores in the United States. So it’s an amazing experience to visit some in other parts of the world. While in Seoul, South Korea, there was an opportunity to visit three bookstores in one day. That’s quite a feat for an American with no knowledge of the Korean language. But with a map, directions to the subway from the hotel concierge, and truly helpful people on the streets, I navigated my way to some memorable experiences. I considered writing about all three stores in one blog, but that felt like a disservice to each of the locations. There are similarities and differences.

What follows is a trilogy about these intriguing bookstores, which when visiting Seoul you must visit all three. They are within 3 blocks of each other, and well worth spending an hour to a day in–no exaggeration. We’ll begin this journey with the shortest stop, and with each post, the stay will be longer–for reasons that will become quite apparent. All three are quality places as you’ll see.

Bandi Luni’s

반디앤루니스 종로타워점

South Korea, 서울특별시 종로구 종로2가 6

When taking the subway in Seoul to the downtown area, there are several stops that include stores underground. There’s shopping for clothes and food. Unlike some of the underground train stations I’ve taken in the US, the area is clean and free of any funky smells that you would not want near an eating establishment. Now before someone from New York City gets upset, Union Square is an exception that I was quite impressed with. I’d also include an underground shopping mall/subway in Washington DC. I don’t remember the name but I’m sure someone can help me out. Between those two, Washington DC rates higher because there is a major bookstore–Barnes and Noble. In Seoul, each of the stops I explored had sprawling stores–not just one location.

The first bookstore, Bandi Luni’s, on our list has an underground entrance from the subway. Entering the store, I was reminded of the Books A Million chain where there are books for sale, and many other products to purchase. Only this store felt more like an upscale department store. Books were the centerpiece. There were also sections of the store dedicated to other items such as tech accessories for phones, tablets, and laptops. Major bookstores like Books A Million, Barnes and Noble, and Schuler’s Books has the same, but this place had more than a couple of shelves. It felt like mini-department store spaces dedicated to merchandise other than books. There were two levels of this store to explore and find items that one would not normally find in a bookstore. The book genre selection could hold it’s own with any of the bookstores in the US. There is a small selection of books in English, while the majority are in Korean. Some of the staff spoke English, which made easier navigating the merchandise.

When you’re done exploring the two floors, step outside on the second floor on to the streets of downtown. Kitty corner and half a block away is the location of our next stop. A place that both elevates the bookstore experience, and takes it to a new level that I’ve not found anywhere in my travels in the US and Sydney Australia.

Have you been to a bookstore with far more amenities than books? What’s the name and location? What was your experience?

You Are Naïve, Mr. Park

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Quietly Mr. Park closed the heavy blue steel door behind him to avoid waking his wife and four year old granddaughter. It was around 9:00 a.m. and they were still in bed. His son and daughter-in-law had already left for work.

As soon as the elevator hit the bottom from the eleventh floor he lingered. Where should I go today … art museum, city library, the eastern market or the Pagoda Park?

A modern art exhibition was going on at the art museum, including Picasso. He did not care for the paintings of Picasso and thought that Picasso was drunk when he touched the white canvas with his wild brush. The city library? No. The moss and yeast smells make his nose and arms itch. Also, he has read almost every book in the library about ships and submarines over the last five years. He decided to go to the Pagoda Park and play chess or cards with friends.

He got a free ticket at the subway ticket counter and went down the stairs for the Blue Line in the direction of city hall. The Pagoda Park is five blocks away from the city hall.

The transportation is free for people over 65 in Korea. Mr. Park is only 61 but he looks much older than 65 with wiry gray hair, sagging eyelids and deep wrinkles on his face. He is taking advantage of his appearance. Luckily, nobody asks him for proof of his age.

The rush hour crowds bumped his left and right shoulders at the subway station. Since the narrow escalator slid down with a load of people, he decided to take the steps. His legs were getting weaker, shaking and getting cramps. He stopped for a few seconds and slowly walked down to the train stop. With morning commuters and students, the inside of the train was quite crowded. There were people sleeping, reading papers and talking on the phone constantly but nobody offered him a seat.

He stood up among the businessmen who were reading “The Daily Economic News” while standing. He could read over their shoulders: “Bernard Madoff’s Ponzi Scheme”, “General Motors Bail Out Request”.

Mr. Park just shrugged his shoulders and murmured to himself angrily. There are a bunch of thieves, large and small anywhere, everywhere in the world. He continued to himself, Put them in jail, all of them, forever.

The city hall is seven stops away from his home. He still has lots of time to be at the Pagoda Park around noon. He continued to stay in the seat and went to the final terminal of the Blue Line at the Yonsei University. It took about one hour. He did not get off the train here. He rode on again in the same seat back in the direction of city hall. Now the inside of the train was almost empty. Several merchants sold goods. The first one was selling umbrellas for ₩2000 ($2.00) and the second one was a blind person selling chewing gum by holding it on his left hand. His right hand held a white cane and the recorder dangled from his neck with music of “I Will Tell The Story”. The next one was selling white socks, and on and on until inside the train was getting crowded again.

It was only 10:30 a.m. In order to kill time he took the Yellow Line to cross the Han River heading to the Incheon Terminal (suburb of Seoul). He was almost two hours on the train, and around noon arrived at the city hall stop.

He saw his group a few yards away but instead of joining them immediately, started to step on the cherry blossom flowers’ pods covered with white and pink colors under the trees in the park. He has never appreciated natural wonders; never counted the stars in the sky and never had any touching feeling in his heart about the flowers. He started to count pods, one, two, three, ten, one hundred … He was extremely happy, comfortable and relaxed. A big grin spread over his mouth. He mumbled, Why couldn’t I escape from my stress and concerns by using tools enjoying natural beauty and wonders before?

“Mr. Park, lunch is ready. Today’s lunch is kalbi tang (beef rib soup),” the loud, humorous Mr. Kim called. His voice was loud enough that everyone in the park could hear him. The cafeteria in the Pagoda Park serves free lunch to seniors. The group that Mr. Park belongs to is not impoverished seniors. They come here to meet friends and to cast off their anxieties about their families and relatives.

The park was crowded with small children running around. Several groups were playing cards and chess games. A group of merchants were selling cigarettes and lighters, makgeolli (Korean traditional opaque white rice wine) that is usually drunk from a bowl, egg rolls and seaweed sushi and others. The exercise groups, Tai Chi, and jumping ropes were seen.

Mr. Park joined this group after he lost all of his savings. He did not have a place to put his mind and heart. He ended up coming here and met Mr. Song and Mr. Kim. They became very close friends to Mr. Park, more than anybody else, even though they had known each other less than five years. He was not as close to his wife, his high school and college friends and, or his son.

Putting their heads together, they were looking at a picture of Mr. Song’s 37 year old nephew. Mr. Song and Mr. Kim were trying matchmaking with ladies in their neighborhood. Actually Mr. Song brought several copies of pictures and short personal histories of eligible ladies. Mr. Park thought matchmaking was the most silly thing in the world that they were doing but they were having a great time over the potential wedding and addition of new family members.

Mr. Park ignored the nasty comments they made about his appearance. It is a miserable life for Mr. Park, living with his daughter-in-law under the same roof. Much more than just oppressive. He had to be so careful about everything as a father-in-law. In the morning first he has to dress, because he cannot go to the kitchen in his pajamas. He has no private life at all. He thinks his daughter-in-law feels the same way. But now there is no alternative, no way he can leave his son’s house and live in a separate apartment.

Mr. Kim, who was the production manager at Daewoo, greeted him. “Hey, Mr. Park, you look pale like paper. It seems that last night you worked hard with your wife. You can hardly even stand up.” Mr. Park ignored him and did not look at him.

Mr. Song, who has a pharmacy across from city hall for 42 years and is semi-retired (handed the business over to his son) said, “Yes, what happened, Mr. Park?”

Mr. Park did not respond.

Rice balls, kalbi tang and kimchi were on the table as side dishes. They were busy eating lunch. Then Mr. Kim spoke with his mouth full of food. “Any news from your untrustworthy ex-partner, Mr. Lee?”

“Mmm … mmm,” Mr. Park tried to start to talk.

Quickly Mr. Kim interrupted. “Mr. Park,” still in a very loud voice.

“Shee. Be quiet,” Mr. Song warned Mr. Kim.

“Mr. Park, what are you doing?” shouted Mr. Song across the table.

“Oh… nothing,” Mr. Park murmured ignoring the two comments from friends.

“Look at this picture. She is so cute and sexy.” Mr. Kim put her picture in front of Mr. Park’s nose and continued, “She is like a live salmon on a chopping block flopping its tail, so fresh and lively.”

“Ohm,” Mr. Park nodded.

Mr. Park asked for a cigarette. He quit 20 years ago. He wanted all his evil memories to fly away in its smoke.

“If you catch him, Mr. Park, twist his neck like this and kill him.” Mr. Kim stood up and showed with a gesture how to twist his neck.

“Mr. Kim, sit down, calm down. Everybody is looking at us.” Mr. Kim sat down and put a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

Five years ago, when Mr. Park retired from the Hyundai Ship Construction Co., he got a lump sum as a retirement package. News spread about Mr. Park’s retirement and his lump sum retirement package throughout the town. Old high school and college friends approached him with great investment opportunities for his retirement money.

His wife insisted, or rather demanded that they put the money in the bank and collect interest for the rest of their lives but he felt that his age of 55 was too young to start collecting interest and stay home to babysit their grandchildren. With over 30 years of industrial experience he could start a second career. And with the additional income he dreamed of travel, going to the symphony and the opera with his wife. Also, he could buy the black pearl necklace for his wife’s birthday that she had wanted for fifteen plus years.

Mr. Lee was president and CEO at Kyundo Industries, Ltd. in Incheon near Seoul. He was a high school and college classmate and they had known each other for more than 40 years. Mr. Lee was a leading, prosperous businessman in Korea and abroad. He had a plant in Indonesia and in the Pittsburgh area in the U.S.A. Kyundo manufactured industrial boilers to supply the petroleum industry.

Mr. Lee promised Mr. Park a ten percent stock option and the director of marketing position was verbally offered. Because of over 40 years friendship Mr. Park naively accepted the offer without any signed paperwork.

Mr. Park did not get any official offer and hardly connected and talked with Mr. Lee for about one year. Mr. Lee was out of the country most of the time on business, especially in the U.S.A.

Mr. Park could not face his wife directly and started to avoid her. They spent more and more speechless moments. Many sleepless nights caused him migraine headaches and an ulcer. A couple of months later he found out that Mr. Lee disappeared and Kyundo Industries filed for Chapter 7. Later Mr. Park found out he was not the only victim of this untrustworthy friendship. His money was gone. He could not bear the reality of his friend’s betrayal.

Mr. Lee was gone. His apartment was locked. Nobody knew his whereabouts … in Korea or in the U.S.A. Mr. Lee had planned a new life for several years ahead and had made careful arrangements about hiding the money for his future. He transferred the money someplace and put his apartment and other valuables in his wife’s name.

Yesterday Mr. Park found out that Mr. Lee is in the U.S.A. He bought a house in Orange County, California and has enough money for the rest of his life.

Because of his anger, Mr. Park could not sleep at all. Last night he could not even lie down on the bed. He was looking for a cigarette. He had quit smoking a long time ago. He could not find one. Mr. Park blamed God. The world is not fair. His lifetime savings were gone like tissue paper down the toilet through his dearest friend. And this friend who gobbled money is living comfortably outside of Korea. Mr. Park wanted to blame somebody … God, his wife, his ex-company or Korean society, not himself. He did not even care why this successful company had failed or what the motivation was behind Mr. Lee’s disappearance.

If his wife knew, he would get more scolding. He has had enough of unbearable words from his wife. He must just be grateful that his wife did not divorce him or kick him out into the street. He wanted to commit suicide at the subway station, not just once, but many times.

Is this my fate? If it is, God, you are too cruel to me. I worked night and day for my family and dreamed that someday I would take my wife to Morocco to see the café made famous in the movie Casablanca, Venice boat riding, Athens and buy a black pearl necklace in Tahiti. She wanted to have this for her life. There is nothing I can do. Now I have to ask her for lunch money.

“That’s why I could not sleep last night,” Mr. Park whispered. You almost could not catch his words. He continued. “He is in California and bought a nice house and he will have a comfortable life with the hidden money.” Everybody was quiet from this unexpected story.

Everyone finished their lunch but Mr. Park’s rice bowl was still full. He could not swallow his food.

“Mr. Park, you have to think about yourself. You have at least another 20 or 30 years to live on earth. You seem on the edge of killing yourself.”

Mr. Song continued, “We are friends for four or five years now. It is a short time compared to other friends, college classmates, but our friendship with you is worth more than anything else. I cannot stand any more of your pessimism and miserable attitude. Nobody likes to be around someone like you.”

Mr. Song still continued, “Be brave and strong like a Spiderman. Think about it this way … you lost your assets, such as your house and everything by fire or hurricane or tornado and think that you are a lucky man to still be alive.”

This preaching did not appeal to Mr. Park. He liked to have another powerful comfort, he did not know what kind.

Hey, friends, you did not have an experience of betrayal from a trusted friend since childhood, he murmured and stood up quietly and left the hall.

“That guy is on the edge of killing himself,” Mr. Park heard this behind his back. It echoed in his ears.

Amazing Lady, Jennifer

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I went down to the basement through a narrow spiral staircase from the kitchen. The tiny kitchen has a small cooking stove and a large rice cooker on the counter.

Jennifer has set up her beauty parlor in the basement and takes care of customers at any time, early morning and late evenings. Customers are mostly family members: husbands, wives and children.

In the basement there are three almost brand new red toolboxes with several shallow drawers and strong and sturdy wheels attached to the bottom. The unhealthy plants with dry brown leaves from outdoors for winter are placed on top of the toolboxes. An old revolving chair is in front of the only mirror and one armchair is attached to a large hair dryer. There is an old sofa that is covered with a slipcover for customers who are waiting their turn. An old TV is on the shelf for watching Korean soap operas.

The thing I like most in the basement is a radiant heater from Costco that warmed up my leg while I sat on the chair in front of the small mirror. One other thing was a calendar from Jennifer’s Korean Catholic church with the date of the lunar calendar hung near the mirror. I need to know two days in the lunar calendar per year: My mother-in-law’s birthday and Korean Thanksgiving which is on August 15 in the lunar calendar and around the end of September in the solar calendar.

When I turned on the basement light, Jennifer came down immediately after me and turned on the heater. I sat on the chair shivering and she put a towel and gown around my neck and she started to touch my hair.

“Your hair grows fast. It is long. That means your hair is quite healthy,” Jennifer commented.

“I was busy and I just kept it in a pony tail. It looks ugly, but…” I did not finish my sentence and continued, “I needed a perm to last for three or four months at least, maybe a tight curl helps it to last longer?”

“Let’s see.” Jennifer continuously touched my hair with her warm fingers.

Before Jennifer finished her sentence we heard loud noises from upstairs and something hit the floor. BANG!! BANG!! It was like a grenade hit the floor and would make a hole in the basement ceiling.

Jennifer dropped her brush on the floor and ran upstairs. Again the loud voices spread throughout the house as loud as thunder. A few minutes later the storm calmed down and the kitchen door was opened and closed with a bang. Somebody ran out into the street.

She felt that she was caught in the middle between two giant forces and neither was willing to give an inch (like a small ship at sea caught between two gigantic humpback whales). But she was all right for handling this awkward situation. She came downstairs holding her breath and started to curl my hair. The quiet moment sprawled through the basement.

“Last night our house was so cold I thought that I would freeze to death. (It was not true). Kwang put the thermostat down to 65 F.” I was just making conversation to break the silence.

Maybe Jennifer did not hear what I said. Her hands were trembling a little bit, but she was able to settle her emotions.

Jennifer has taken care of my hair for more than twenty years now, but we have never talked about our personal lives. I did not even tell her about my business and I just told her all the time how busy I was with four children and a heavy workload. In exchange, she told me the stories of Korean soap operas that she watched.

I wished that I could avoid this uncomfortable moment and just say goodbye to her and leave but the perm takes about two hours. There was no way I could leave or comfort her.

Finally Jennifer thawed the chilly moment and started her amazing story. “Bob and I have two sons and one is a business manager of a small company and our second is institutionalized and just came home for the weekend.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes and then she continued that whenever her second son, Harry, came home there were frequent quarrels between father and son. Everybody had bruises on their faces and bodies. “When Harry is in the institution our home is much quieter than before. Since Bob is acting as a child, he starts the quarrels and not his son.”

I lost the words. I just thought about what a unique life she has. Then she went on. In December 1951 during the Korean War, her hometown was in Kangwon Province, which was in the South Korean territory before 1953. Her first husband died on the battlefield as a sergeant. She left home with a seven month old son and a three-year-old daughter with one thick blanket. Her son was on her back and the blanket and everything else was on her head. She walked with her three-year-old daughter for several miles to the train station where all the townspeople would leave for the south to avoid the war zone. Many, many times her three year old daughter lay down on the snow, cried and did not want to walk any more. Everybody had to leave the town because the North Korean and the Chinese armies flooded toward the town.

It was dark when she finally got to the train station where the refugees were. She was one of the last people to evacuate the town. All the people were in cargo trains and there was not even one inch of space left. People sat on other people’s laps. There was no room for them to stretch out their legs. This was the only transportation to leave the town.

Her hands were getting warmer and she was getting faster with curling my hair and her mind seemed to have regained control and she continued, “For three days we were in a cargo train without any food and could not even go out for a pit stop. When people needed it, they passed around a can for an emergency. For three days we did not eat anything and nothing came out as discharge. I sat on the lap of a middle aged gentleman and I used the can on his lap.”

Another silent moment passed and my curiosity increased as to how she met Bob.

After three days the train stopped at its final destination of Daegu, that is a city in the middle of South Korea, which is now the second largest city in Korea. The refugee camps were full of people from North Korea and they were setting up another one but it was not ready. About one hundred to two hundred people did not have a place to spend a couple of nights until the camp was up.

Jennifer walked on for several miles with two children looking for a place to stay. After several rejections, she found a house with a barn. Jennifer asked the landowner if she could stay a couple of nights here until she could go to the camp. The owner was a very kind and warm-hearted person and explained her reasoning. “How can I let you sleep in the barn while we are inside the house?”

“If you let me stay here, it will be a great place since I have a thick blanket and we can be warm staying here,” Jennifer replied.

About a week later Jennifer and the two children finally went into the refugee camp. At that time there were several refugee camps around the town. The government provided a meal once a day with rice balls and bean sprout soup.

Jennifer continues, “After I settled down in the refugee camp I began to be concerned with the whereabouts of my family (parents and siblings). They were evacuated at a different time from North Korea and I did not know their location.” A couple of months later Jennifer got news that her parents were in a different refugee camp.

Finally the family was reunited but no jobs were available and getting food was very difficult. Her daughter was crying from hunger and her son was trying to suck Jennifer’s milk from an empty breast. Because of malnutrition her son started to walk at the age of two and Jennifer did not have a period for three years.

Through the assistance of the Catholic Church, Jennifer collected a mixture of leftover food. It was waste food from individual dishes from the U.S. army. It was more nutritious than just bean sprout soup or other Korean food at that time. With these connections Jennifer started to wash clothes for the G.I.s. First one and two, then later she operated a laundromat for about two hundred G.I.s with the assistance of several employees.

“Business was booming and it seemed to rake in money from the ground and the laundromat space was full of G.I. clothes. One day one soldier’s clothes were in our laundromat for several weeks without a checkout. I asked his friend the reason. He said it was Bob who was new to this division and because his paperwork was not properly done on time, the payment of his salary was delayed so he could not get his clothes back.”

Jennifer asked his friend to take his clothes and pay for it later. Jennifer’s intention was that she needed the space, but Bob thought differently about Jennifer. Bob paid back with a letter saying that he wanted to marry her.

Jennifer didn’t even blink her eyes at his proposal. She totally ignored him. She had many reasons. She already had two children from a previous marriage and Korean tradition did not allow for mixed race marriage at that time, especially marriage to a G.I. It means one class lower than our traditional social system. Koreans can no longer be proud of their pure blood because of so many mixed racial marriages.

Bob came to the Laundromat every day and sent her letters almost daily. Then he moved to another location and that division moved out of the town and a military police (MP) division came to that location. She operated the laundromat for a couple more years to serve the MPs and then she closed it.

Years passed, and Jennifer had a visitor from her church. Father Paul came. At that time Jennifer was with her father. Father Paul was hesitant to break the silence and finally he asked Jennifer’s father to leave the room in order to talk with Jennifer privately. After her father left the room Father Paul took out a ragged letter from his inside pocket. It was a letter from Bob. Since Jennifer had closed the Laundromat, Bob did not know her address, so he sent the letter to the main office of the Catholic Church and it was forwarded and finally wound up with Father Paul. Father Paul knew that Jennifer would not marry an American G.I., breaking Korean tradition. Not only this, Jennifer already had two children of her own. Her family and church members decided to at least meet Bob and then make the decision but this meeting did not mean “YES”.

It was nine years since the first time Jennifer had seen Bob at the laundromat. Bob flew in the first time with a ring. Nothing happened. The second time nothing happened and the third time he brought another ring.

Jennifer’s family and the priest thought he was a very decent man and he had fallen in love deeply with Jennifer. He would make Jennifer happy for a long time. They married in the Catholic Church.

As soon as Jennifer married Bob she began to recognize that Bob was not normal. He was different from what she first thought.

“Jennifer, how can you stay with him?” I interrupted her. I could not hear her story any more without frustration.

“This year is our 45th anniversary.”

I lost words. What an amazing woman. She has carried this load of frustration and uncertainty of Bob’s abnormal character for forty-five years. And I was full of sorrow for her. The Catholic principle made her stay with him without divorcing him. This was only my thought. But it’s possible that they might have many happy moments together.

“Bob is now in a nursing home fighting for his life.” Jennifer could not finish her sentence; tears were running down her cheeks.