hope not hate: bryce and friends at uncle 29

bars in korea are as ubiquitous as xenophobia at a(ny) fundamentalists' meeting. these fine drinking establishments are often fiercely competitive to gain customers. the owners of these dandy places are notorious for devising ruses to lure the quick-drigger trinkers (oops, got my "d" and "t" mistyped, should you endeavour to look more closely) into their dens of intoxication and one of the most prominent ruses is to have, at all costs, english on your sign or, more alluringly, an english name for the pub, even at the cost of ridicule throughout the english-speaking world.

however, i reference this because i want people to realise upon reading the title of today's headline on this specific aetherspatial point that i'm not referring to a new web site or to a dysfunctional new way to tell time or luridly alluding to one's familial relationships, but to make it clear that i'm talking about a guy we know here in gangneung playing every monday at a relatively new bar to which we have recently (okay, it's been longer than just "recently", but you get the idea...) begun to offer patronage.

as has been stressed in other quarters on this internet thing, gangneung is not a big city by korean standards--boasting a population of less than 300,000-- and, therefore, there are not so many bars, clubs, and drinking establishments where a non-korean can go and feel at home, so to speak, where everyone knows your name, as it were. there are a few, starting with bar bumpin'--the granddaddy of them all, i guess, and to which there has been much reference on this particular site over the past year--as well as one called "wherehouse" (which was much better back in the day when raswan was helping to run the show there) and another called "absolut" (which has a foosball table inside and a third-floor outdoor patio on which to enjoy drinks, the setting sun, the night air, and mosquito-infested summer conversation). these three, especially bumpin' and the wherehouse, are still quite popular among the round-eyes in the population, but there are limitations to them, as there are to all things.

every once in a while, there have been instances where one of our round-eyed masses has, at one of the aforementioned, climbed upon a chair, a stool, a stage, a fireplace mantelpiece, a mate's shoulders and strummed some tunes or spun some jams, but nothing on a sustained continuous basis because koreans aren't famed, especially outside of the big cities, for having such venues to play a guitar or to dance the night away while a DJ flaps the vinyl or read poetry or just have something akin to an "open mic" night. it's an alien concept in most korean towns and cities--save for about ten in the entire country where there's more of an attitude of acceptance and tolerance and, indeed, even just simply a market for it.

gangneung, for all its good qualities, is sorely lacking in such venues for non-koreans and koreans alike to enjoy together. if a non-korean--whether alone in a group of korean friends or in a group with non-koreans and/or koreans--tries to gain entrance into a korean nightclub, it is nearly scandalous. by definition, a nightclub is a place for all and sundry who can pay for drinks and perhaps an entrance fee to go and dance and flirt and grind and copulate and cogitate and ameliorate one's stress; in korea, a nightclub is not much different, except that it is far more xenophobic than the general korean public is.

usually, when patronising a korean-style nightclub, you rock up there with your friends and sit at a table that is part of a circle or some other shape conducive to overlooking the dance floor and the other patrons (in some cases, if you're a pompous ass with more money than the sperm count of a well-hung porn star--or you want people to think you're both rich and well-hung--you can be seated in a private room to be waited on with bated breath by a covey of lackeys; of course, most people of that ilk are most comfortable being seen by the masses so one's ego can be sated by the knowledge that so many are staring to see who it is that's spending so lavishly, so the private rooms end up having a more sinister purp0se, one that is laid out below). so, you have a few drinks and maybe have some finger food, you listen to the insanely loud music, shout at your friend who is less than 10 centimeters from you, watch the hilarious and juvenile-esque courting rituals that most koreans rely upon for their romantic endeavours, and go out and have a dance when the mood hits. sounds like it could be a fun time, but it's as exhilirating as being victimized by nuclear-bomb testing in your neighbourhood, and not many non-koreans, the ones who've yet to experience for themselves this exhilirating fun, understand why there is such a negative connotation associated with nightclubs amongst the expat community. that is, until they experience some of the following:

being refused entrance to nightclubs because you aren't korean; being expelled from korean nightclubs because your presence made the other patrons--i.e., all the koreans--uncomfortable and it was bad for business; being made to go with your group into an aforementioned enclosed room--but not allowed to go out and dance because you're being bludgeoned with feigned politeness that there is no need to go out on the dance floor because the private room is big enough for your group to dance (when the real reason is that you're being forbidden from going out onto the dance floor); being left with the hefty bill because the shithead(s) you were with-- usually koreans who, beforehand, had claimed to know the owner or DJ or one of the lackeys--promised a big discount on the bill but really was negotiating his way out of paying it.

sorry, i've gone way tangential--and in a very angry, though admittedly therapeutic, tone. back to the jewels...

anyway, gangneung lacks for places to dance, places for bands--or soloists--to get up and play some live music for an audience on a frequent basis, places to have poetry readings, places for an open mic night where all and sundry have a given amount of time to stand before a crowd and do whatever comes to mind. it's a shame, really, because there are people--of both korean and non-korean persuasion--that are talented and willing enough to get up in front of people and put on some sort of performance.

unfortunately, it sometimes seems impossible for this to happen because bars in korea don't mind the business that non-koreans give (and, often, it can be big business because expats are loyal to that with which they are comfortable), but they won't sacrifice their local clientele because, after all, expats are a more transient--and unstable--customer base than are locals. and, more often than a korean would have you believe, koreans won't patronise a bar on a given night when there are expats inside enjoying themselves--mr. xenophobia, please meet ms. dumbass. and, too often, if a bar becomes popular with expats, it loses its pull with locals; thus, you won't get the cultural mix that would be nice to have.

note: on the flip side, of course, is the fact that many expats won't very often patronise korean-style bars because these types of places only serve domestic, not imported, beer and liquor (usually soju) and many expats don't bother to study the language or immerse themselves in the drinking side of korean culture from a korean viewpoint; it's much easier to drink the familiar than to be brave on a consistent basis and go native, as it were...

as it is, the aforementioned "uncle 29"--so named because the owner's age and the fact that he became an uncle recently--is trying to be a bar that services locals and expats both. it only sells imported liquor, not domestic, and it serves imported brew more than it does domestic brew. there is an actual bar with stools--not common in korean-style places--and there are tables at which to sit and have a chat, as well.

and, on top of that, it is at this place that one of us roundeyes graces the crowd weekly with tunes from his guitar. his name is bryce and he plays live every monday night, strumming his six-string and doling out lyrics. hopefully, his pioneering efforts at doing live things here in gangneung can lead to more of similar-type shows at this or any other bar to which expats cater.

here are some photos from some recent gigs for you to enjoy. cheers, bryce, for blazing ahead...