Zunbara Zuihitsu Chapter 2 "The Mystery of Korea"

 By the time J9 ended, Fuji Television was airing an anime titled Korokoro Pollon [tl note: J9 (specifically Bryger) and Pollon were made by the same studio and Yamamoto did BGM for both shows]. Mr. [Yukimasa] Ono, the TV station producer, is now [at the time he wrote this in 2000] the chief director of the Fuji TV Seoul office branch. He regularly comes back to Japan every two years! With such an ulterior motive in mind, I embarked on a four-day, three-night trip.

Ono: Yamamoto-san~~! You're here! I haven't seen you go to a foreign country since you stayed in New York.

Yamamoto: Anyways, let's have yakiniku! Take me to a yakiniku stall that doesn't stink.

I stayed in Grand Hyatt, the most luxurious hotel in all of Seoul. I had a twin room all by myself (I definitely wasn't thinking of bringing anyone with me, you know). Outside the window was an overview of Seoul with the mountains in the sky. The TV played mostly in English, but it's a country where English is not really spoken. Japanese is even useless here, so I'm stuck with Hangul.

On the second day, I visited the Panmunjom (the Joint Security Area). It's the 38th parallel, running diagonally between the 37th and 39th degrees exactly. This is where North Korea and South Korea are divided. The soldiers of the North and the UN troops of the South are facing each other, separated by concrete slabs. Jeans and mini-skirts are prohibited for sightseeing, and the North makes fun of you.

"Oy, you Southern idiots, we can't buy pants and skirts because we don't have enough fabric to make them", as stated by the North's chieftain Kim Nantoka-san [Kim Jong Il] because his face looks like [Masaaki] Jinbo's, aside from his administrative position.

A few years ago, a friend of mine went to Berlin and sent a postcard saying he cried when he saw the wall. I almost cried when I saw the Panmunjom. Humanity is stupid; those situations need to stop. What were they doing in a tribe so bloody?! Look from here to there, then there to here. Well, we should all be getting along.

On the third day, I walked around the city by myself, remembering the time I first went to New York in 1984. I remembered the time when I couldn't speak English yet. I couldn't speak Korean. I couldn't even read at all.

I can't buy one potato, or drink cola, or take a bus. I waited for 10 minutes, ran across a wide highway and arrived at the other side of the road sweating at an alley in Yaksu. A small limp old lady was pushing a cart with cardboard carton boxes on it. Since I had came by plane, I was happy when I found the Yaksu subway station.

I took a picture in front of the Seoul station. Humanity ruled humanity; this country ruled this country. While I drank beer at a station stall, a man with a necktie was taking drugs.

I zigzagged along the streets of Myeongdong. High school girls sipped Korean soba. There were some Teletubbies goods. I bought a cup of tea at a convenience store. When I said, "Thank you," she smiled and said, "Annyeonhasaeyo".

I watched baseball, crossed the Han River, drank a glass of water at a night club, hugged Mr. Ono, drank a 7000 won coffee the next morning, took a shower flew back via ANA. I never thought I'd been to a foreign country.

Because I knew we were brothers after all.

Original Japanese: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pt-WqoZgvB8Czp1_-iVyV-3YXvtVbeZ4Ue-Sorv0srk/