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THE WORLD'S GINSENG CAPITOL
     After breakfast, a few of us shuttled to the Lotte Hotel in downtown Seoul to catch the bus tour to the UN Joint Security Area at Panmunjom -- the demilitarized zone between Korea and the communist North -- where you can witness the last hot spot of the Cold War while standing eye to eye with an icy North Korean soldier. There's a visceral thrill to it, but also a disturbing sadness at what Panmunjom represents: a family divided, a civil war with no Gettysburg address... yet. Nonetheless, this visit made the strongest impression on me and the group and is a high point and de rigeur stop of any visit to Corea.
     We returned to the Shilla with just enough time to shower and change for our farewell dinner at the Korea House, followed by a show of Korean folk dance and song in the adjacent Korea House Theatre. As we enjoyed the lavish feast of traditional Korean delicacies, we realized how close we had grown to each other and there was a palpable sense of sadness that our visit was coming to an end. Indeed, as I stood to make an impromptu, but heartfelt toast wherein I noted that while we had enjoyed a plethora of delights both visual and culinary, the real memories come from the people we meet and the friends we make, I was surprised at how verklempt I was.      That evening half the group rushed off to shop at Itaewon (Seoul's foreigner's district selling everything from brand name sneakers to jewelry) while the others, including myself, relaxed in the hotel piano bar and enjoyed the luxury of not being scheduled for anything. I mentioned that I'd noticed the hotel offered an in-room massage by blind masseurs for roughly $30 dollars an hour. In Korea, Thierry explained, massage is an area of work performed by the blind. Although, he noted, sometimes they were not blind. And sometimes they did more than massage.      Back in my room when I ordered the massage, I was asked if I wanted a man or a woman. Whoever has the strongest hands, I replied. Thierry's suggestive comments about the exact nature of the massage was still on my mind, however, so I left on my underwear. [CONTINUED BELOW]
     A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on my door and a plain woman in her mid-forties nimbly felt her way in and motioned for me to lay on my bed. She spoke simple English, but unfortunately enough to chortle "Soft like a baby!" when she grasped my love handles (the inevitable result of beef and pork at every meal for a week and no exercise). I grimly chuckled under my breath until she moved on to a massive knot in my lower back at which point I became delirious with pleasure, all my stress melting under her amazingly firm shiatsu pressure moves. I pretended not to notice when her hands paused momentarily by my Calvins, then moved on.
DAY 6     
The next morning we said farewells at breakfast, surprised at how sad we were at the thought of our little group separating. We joked that it was the Stockholm Hostage syndrome in effect, but it was really the simplest truth
about travel -- more than the monuments and sights, it is the people you meet along the way that make the deepest impression. Humour and laughter had bonded us and we truly had enjoyed our company. Even more, we appreciated the
zeal and attention Mr. Park and his team had exerted and demonstrated on
our behalf -- he had worked hard and we could not have met a better example of the Korean spirit.
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