A Gyopo In Korea: The Tourist Mindset

I’m Dylan, a 3rd generation Korean-American, and I’ll be living in Seoul for three months. In that time, I hope to improve my near non-existent Korean skills and experience the culture that I’ve been removed from. In this series, I’ll be detailing those experiences. If you’re not caught up, you can view chapter 1 here.

The only other time I was in Korea was for a short week in the summer of 2019 nearly five years ago, as a tourist with my family. We stayed a few days in Hongdae and a few in Gangnam, so we mostly explored those areas, but also made sure to check out others, like Myeongdong and Gwangjang Market. We traveled all around, eating great food, visiting temples and historic villages, experiencing the rich culture of my ancestors.

It was exhausting. I mean, it was fun, and I always love doing things like that and really immersing myself in a foreign country’s history, but, you know. To fit it all into such a short time, in the searing summer heat—it was a lot. I’m having a completely different experience this time around. Even though my family was here to help me settle in during the first week, the vibe was completely different. Sure, we had plans, and we wanted to visit some places here and there, but it was at a totally relaxed pace. When we ate breakfast in the hotel at 7:30 AM, it wasn’t so that we could catch a tourist group meeting at 7:50 (such psychotic scheduling habits which are prone to my dad, who is wont to squeeze the maximum amount of juice out of every day), it was because the hotel’s breakfast was so good that we didn’t want to skip it while also making sure we had time to become hungry again for our early lunch reservation at 11:30.

I’ll be doing an internship while I’m here, so we wanted to check out the area my office is in. Gyeongbokgung Palace happens to be nearby, so we decided to visit.

It was Seollal and thus entering the Palace on that day was free, but on any other day it’s still pretty cheap. My mom says they should raise the price a bit; not so much that it deters other Koreans from visiting, but just enough that they can make some more money off of international tourists.

A photo of me and Dad outside the inner palace gates (please ignore my face I think some dust flew into my eye – I promise I’m having a good time) – Photography by Mom

It was crowded, but not as much, I think, as when we first went. It’s a tourist tradition of sorts to visit a hanbok rental shop and get fitted into a set of Korean traditional garb when you visit the palace. I saw a few families and couples that had, some Korean and some not. We didn’t bother. Of course, we did the first time; we were tourists, and my dad just loves getting us the full tourist package. Last week, many had puffers over top of their hanbok. I guess just the hanbok wasn’t enough in this season, but in the summer it proved to be too much. It was uncomfortably warm. My parents were adults trying to show us a fun time, so they could bear it, but I think us three kids were always fussy. Maddie, the eldest of us three, I think, had learned to hide that fussiness, or to deal with it. Emily was better at it than me, the youngest, who hadn’t learned yet. So, while I don’t remember well, I gather there must have been a lot of complaining from me that day. I was probably also complaining about how the fabric felt on my skin and not wanting to wear my gat (Korean traditional hat) because of my hair (two more things I’m fussy about).

Emily had bleached hair with rose pink ends at that time, and her hanbok was styled perfectly to match it. She looked so pretty that it was almost like she was a mascot, or there for a photoshoot or something, so a lot of people were asking to take pictures with her, Koreans and foreigners alike. She went along with it, but it was clear she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable every time she was asked.

I am glad to have had the experience of dressing up in hanbok with my family, but to be honest, most of all I can remember is how hot I was.

Last week was different. There was no heat, no get-up, no chaos. After seeing the main palace a bit, we decided to check out the gift shop. Inside, it was very congested and I began to feel like I was running out of air, so after picking out a mug for my parents to buy for me I told them I was going to step outside. While they took their time browsing, I thought I’d take a stroll around the premises. The cold was refreshing. With each exhale I could see a cloud of condensation. I walked a bit around the pond. I sat on some steps in front of a house with a view of the Bukhansan Mountain in the background. Despite all the people, there was an air of tranquility that was lacking from our first visit. Maybe it was because I left my parents behind in the gift shop. Or maybe it was because I knew, “There is no rush. I am going to be here for a short while. I can take my time and relax.”