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I'm going to miss Korea
I was riding the subway to work today when a group of schoolboys, probably in junior high or so, got on at Hakdong Station. They wore light blue button-down short-sleeved shirts and dark blue trousers. Their heads were almost uniformly short puffballs of black hair. Some of them wore glasses, some of them wore knockoff Converse sneakers. No one's voice had started to break; no one's skin had started breaking out.

Nonhyun Station. Two seats close to me opened up, and two of the boys sat down. They gestured to another classmate, a short, younger boy with prepubescent cherubic good looks, to sit down on their laps, which he did for a few minutes. It was as natural and unself-conscious as a mother seating a child on her lap.

Banpo Station. Across from me, a seat opened up, and another boy started toward it. But he saw an older woman, short, squat, a little heavyset, probably in her 40s or so, also approach the seat, and steered off away from the empty seat, leaving it for her.

Express Bus Terminal Station. As I prepared to get off the train, I looked at the three boys huddled near the door, looking at something one of them was holding. One of them had his arm slung around his buddy as they looked at whatever it was, draped over the shoulder carelessly, in an unthinking gesture of affection and friendship.

As I walked to my transfer, I saw two security guards strolling through the station. They wore light blue button-down shirts and dark blue pants. They had caps on, and gold insignias signaling their official status. They were probably in their late 40s or early 50s. They looked like the kind of men who would down a couple bottles of soju together after work in a pojangmacha (sidewalk food vendor) on a regular basis, the kind of men that would sling their arms around each other without a thought, the kind of men who are obnoxiously loud and astonishingly generous, the kind of men those boys on the train might grow up to be.

I'm not going to miss Korea
Every single doggedman time I get off a subway car, I ask myself: Why is it that no one in Korea can figure out that standing to the side of the door (as opposed to filling up two-thirds of the doorway) and letting people off the train first speeds up the process for everyone? Even if you're standing there waiting and not pushing your way in, you're still in the way, get it? People cannot leave the train with you blocking their path. Move.