Tea House Train Station

After dinner, the five of us went to a quaint little tea house to drink, tea of course, however, the menu was just as eclectic as the décor.

From the street there is nothing that catches your eye or begs you to enter, but as you do, you can see the thought that was placed in the whole concept. The place is divided into thirds—reclaimed train seats running up and down the outer walls and picnic tables down the middle—as if two trains are passing through a small park. But it was the details that caught my attention. Mock hydro poles were assembled and lined the one aisle, complete with those ceramic conductors and sagging wires. What made me laugh were the two stuffed crows perched, admiring the action below (no doubt trying to figure out who to shit on). A small picket fence separated the “picnic area” from the aisle and created a clear division, and almost like a front yard of a house. The back yard of the house was lined with taller bamboo shades and plants which separated it from the other aisle and the next train.

Perhaps the most interesting detail was the graffiti on every inch of wall space and tables. Shin loves Eun Young, Spencer was here, and other indistinguishable messages written in hangook (Korean letters), Chinese characters and a few scribbles of Japanese. Some guests added drawings, and some posted photos and one etched in their frustration of being a foreigner dealing with another way of life, “Walk faster Koreans! Walk straighter Koreans!”

I decided that I would leave my mark—my finger print and my name.