Two highlights of riding in a subway in Busan...

1) On most of the trains you will find decent-sized LCD monitors broadcasting advertisements and cartoons. These would normally only make an interesting diversion if you had forgotten a book/Ipod, but there is one particular segment of programming that would tear away even the most steadfast:

DANCING SUBWAY

This program, in its own little way, feels made for me personally, since none of the Koreans laugh aloud and celebrate the way I do when it comes on the screen. On "Dancing Subway", a Korean teenager, his image superimposed several times over to make it seem like there's more than one of him, teaches the people of Busan how to "hiphop dance". I've only seen two episodes ("Hopping" and the superior "Cross-Step"), but I've already learned so much; for one thing, raising your fist over your head and bringing it forcefully across your chest is a great way to accentuate the normally-pedestrian cross-step. At some point, I really hope to gather up the courage to practice these steps in the middle of the train (as my friend Marie has done), but for right now, I'll just marvel at the premise of a dancing tutorial playing as subway entertainment.

(Next time I see it airing, I will try to get video footage of it on my camera. It's just that good.)

(Also, you may have noticed that this is the first time that I've used colored and bold lettering. I promise not to make this a habit.)

2) Along with the aforementioned pageantry, you are also assured of at least one sales pitch being delivered by a car-to-car salesman. Normally these men are war veterans, or at least that's what I've gathered from the number of them missing limbs, and their wares are normally entirely useless, my favorite being a strap-on knee brace. These attempts normally last about five minutes, with the salesman walking, limping, or hopping from one end of the subway car to the other, item in hand, all while demonstrating the dubious functionality of his item. The other day, one particular merchant went above and beyond; for what seemed like 15 minutes, he worked every possible angle a person possibly could when trying to sell a package of four "Reach" toothbrushes, yet never actually mimicked brushing his teeth. He brushed his arms, the outside of his cheeks, his shoes, but never his teeth. At one point, he stuck the toothbrush through a hole in an unopened package to show that it could be used as a handle as well. Never have I felt more compelled to buy a sub-par toothbrush, but I managed to restrain myself from giving in to my naive consumer instincts. While I understood nothing of what he said, it was easily one of the best spectacles that I've been witness to yet in Korea, although it loses a lot of its charm in this telling. Just trust me.

Ok... I'm school-bound at this point, but I've made a few promises regarding posts yet to be written. I swear to you that there will be photos of my apartment soon enough, and I still haven't talked about my first temple visit. These things will happen.