Seoul Metro, Line 2
You can't begin to understand living in Seoul until you take the Line 2 subway during rush hour. Packed from fin to gill with commuters, this train makes a loop through the city, from city hall--the Japanese-colonial-era building in the heart of old Seoul--through Gangnam--the brand-new commercial district south of the river--and back again. Everyone wants to get to Gangnam, where I work. Since only Line 2 stops at Gangnam station, while looping through the city it collects all of the millions of commuters coming in from the suburbs.
In the car, commuters are sandwiched together, squeezed as if undergoing some sort of collective medieval torture. With every jerk and sway of the train, the passengers collectively jerk and sway along, like dominoes stacked so closely together that they hold each other up.
On the train, no one talks, no one looks at anyone or anything, no one does anything at all, because doing anything will inconvenience the people around you. You cannot cough, sneeze, answer a cell phone (although you do get service in the tunnel), read a paper or, for that matter, breathe. But rather than complain, everyone endures this as a terrible but necessary part of life, the memory of which will be drowned out by continual bouts of soju drinking.
When the doors open at the minor stations, there is a little sigh, as people relax for one beautiful second. The respite is all too brief. Even if the train appeared too full at the last station to possibly fit anyone more, and even if no one has disembarked, all along the platform men in suits and middle-aged women--ajashis and ajumas, respectively--will look at the open doors, hesitate, and then dive into the mash of people, elbows flying and hands pressed against the door frame to squeeze in.
One stop before Gangnam is Kyodae, Seoul National University of Education. This is a major office area and transfer hub. When the doors open, it is like popping a champagne cork. People spew out in a shower of bubbles. (Or you might think of it like an animal vomiting up it's insides from 40 separate orifices. Depends what mood you're in.) Even if you do not plan to get off at Kyodae, you'd better go with the flow, and then trust your luck to get back on. After fully cleansing itself, the train completely fills again, only to finally empty at the next station.
The subway system, like much of Seoul, appears to be designed by people who knew that they themselves would never have to use it. Although clean, new and precisely run, the Seoul Metro is simply not efficient. If its designers had, instead of building extra-wide platforms and allowing for extra-large cars, built four tracks and run express trains, much of the congestion would be relieved and the average commute would be greatly reduced.
Construction was started on Line 2 in March 1978 and was finally completed in May 1984. Seoul Metro uses chopper-controlled electric rail cars manufactured mostly by Mitsubishi. Probably Seoulites have found a way to increase this number, but each car can hold, at capacity, 160 people. Each train has 10 cars, and trains come every three minutes during rush hours--7:00 til 9:00--in two directions. That's (according to Seoul Metro) 77 trains, 770 cars, 123,200 people arriving at Gangnam station every morning. All told, the subway system carries over 7 million passengers a day! In 2004, line 2 alone carried over 700 million passengers!
With all these people jambed in together, like in Tokyo, groping is a problem. In response, Seoul Metro just recently announced that it is considering introducing women-only cars. I suppose the men deserve the tighter and smellier commute that they are facing. Although I don't envy any woman trapped in a car with over one hundred primmed and permed, muscle-bound, elbow-throwing ajumas, either.
In the car, commuters are sandwiched together, squeezed as if undergoing some sort of collective medieval torture. With every jerk and sway of the train, the passengers collectively jerk and sway along, like dominoes stacked so closely together that they hold each other up.
On the train, no one talks, no one looks at anyone or anything, no one does anything at all, because doing anything will inconvenience the people around you. You cannot cough, sneeze, answer a cell phone (although you do get service in the tunnel), read a paper or, for that matter, breathe. But rather than complain, everyone endures this as a terrible but necessary part of life, the memory of which will be drowned out by continual bouts of soju drinking.
When the doors open at the minor stations, there is a little sigh, as people relax for one beautiful second. The respite is all too brief. Even if the train appeared too full at the last station to possibly fit anyone more, and even if no one has disembarked, all along the platform men in suits and middle-aged women--ajashis and ajumas, respectively--will look at the open doors, hesitate, and then dive into the mash of people, elbows flying and hands pressed against the door frame to squeeze in.
One stop before Gangnam is Kyodae, Seoul National University of Education. This is a major office area and transfer hub. When the doors open, it is like popping a champagne cork. People spew out in a shower of bubbles. (Or you might think of it like an animal vomiting up it's insides from 40 separate orifices. Depends what mood you're in.) Even if you do not plan to get off at Kyodae, you'd better go with the flow, and then trust your luck to get back on. After fully cleansing itself, the train completely fills again, only to finally empty at the next station.
The subway system, like much of Seoul, appears to be designed by people who knew that they themselves would never have to use it. Although clean, new and precisely run, the Seoul Metro is simply not efficient. If its designers had, instead of building extra-wide platforms and allowing for extra-large cars, built four tracks and run express trains, much of the congestion would be relieved and the average commute would be greatly reduced.
Construction was started on Line 2 in March 1978 and was finally completed in May 1984. Seoul Metro uses chopper-controlled electric rail cars manufactured mostly by Mitsubishi. Probably Seoulites have found a way to increase this number, but each car can hold, at capacity, 160 people. Each train has 10 cars, and trains come every three minutes during rush hours--7:00 til 9:00--in two directions. That's (according to Seoul Metro) 77 trains, 770 cars, 123,200 people arriving at Gangnam station every morning. All told, the subway system carries over 7 million passengers a day! In 2004, line 2 alone carried over 700 million passengers!
With all these people jambed in together, like in Tokyo, groping is a problem. In response, Seoul Metro just recently announced that it is considering introducing women-only cars. I suppose the men deserve the tighter and smellier commute that they are facing. Although I don't envy any woman trapped in a car with over one hundred primmed and permed, muscle-bound, elbow-throwing ajumas, either.
posted by Brian at 11:39 PM
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