Notes from Korea
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The tables turn so quickly. Here, 12 hours out from Chicago, I am the only white girl in the world. This is a good thing.
There’s a certain magic to flying. It fucks with your frame of reference: step onto a plane, deal with some shaking, and 12 hours later you’re halfway across the world and wondering just how in the hell Dior and Birkenstock and Starbucks got to be so popular in the first place. Incheon is an incredible airport — nicer than many of the malls I’ve been around — and has an air about it that is at once familiar and confusing. Fashion is slightly different. Business, more communal. There are more clerks per customer here than I’ve ever seen in America.
I can’t say enough awesome things about Korean Air. It’s impossible to create a happy experience in coach but they did a good job of faking it. In four hours I’ll be in Bangkok. Can’t wait. There will be a warm bed waiting for me.
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