The World Cup took place in Seoul in 2002. | tom@hk
When I first visited Europe as a backpacking, hitchhiking college student in 1991, I was content to travel wherever my rides brought me, following a vague itinerary that changed by the day. This strategy offered maximum flexibility to follow every opportunity, but it also meant missing a few. It seemed like every town I visited was just finishing or a few weeks away from starting its biggest festival of the year.
As I arrived in Arnhem, in the Netherlands, one hot summer day, I was told that only hours before, three busloads of Swedish college girls had departed after performing in a major dance festival, bringing to a conclusion its weekend of wild parties. I felt like I crossed the world only to miss the boat, perhaps only a day away from an experience of a lifetime.
On the spot, I resolved to study events calendars more closely.
Fast forward to 2002 in Korea. I had always been curious about the country, and decided to plan ahead and time my visit to coincide with the soccer World Cup. I managed to land tickets to a few games, but was more focused in soaking in the scenes of the celebrations. Sure enough, not only was every town a nonstop party, but the Koreans were so focused on being good hosts for the games that wherever I went for those two weeks, I received invitations to private family dinners, community cultural events, and guided sightseeing.
Community groups in every host city were tasked with welcoming foreigners. While walking down the street with a fellow American soccer fan in the touristy area of Itaewon, Seoul, we turned the corner and were confronted by two excited Korean high schoolers dressed in colorful traditional robes. In broken English they convinced us to follow them down some other streets until we reached a medium-sized convention hall. Inside, we were treated to a sampling of spicy kimchi, a tae-kwon-do demonstration, and dressed in borrowed robes to take some photos.
Once the games concluded, Seoul and the other major cities transitioned back to the cold industrial areas I imagined them to be, with towering glass and steel skyscrapers punctuated by train lines and highways leading to cavernous concrete factories. Everyone was in a rush, looking at their watches, without a moment to spare for a wandering foreigner.
Timing is everything.
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