The Irish are Taking Over the World

Perhaps you thought the imperialistic American military machine was trying to take over the world. Or perhaps the wily Japanese, what with their sleek cameras and reliable automobiles. Or maybe it's just Wal-Mart (yes, there's a Wal-Mart here in Seoul). But no, the Celts and the Gaels are slowly, silently, and slyly stamping their seal on every corner from Dublin to Chicago to Seoul.

What to do as a jet-lagged American on a 36-hour holiday in Seoul during Autumn? Find an Irish pub called Dublins and explain to your Korean host the meaning behind the Orange and the Green, St. James' Gate, harps facing to the right vs. harps facing to the left, and enjoy a Guiness or two (two, in my case). They even drew a shamrock on the head! Well played, Korean guys!

I thought it was just an American, thing, the Irish Pub. Every crappy little town near the D has at least one "Authentic Irish Pub," which somehow is supposed to be distinct and unique and fun. It's to the point where one must assume that every American bar is actually an Irish bar. It takes me about 75 seconds to walk from my front door in Berkley to "The Blarney Stone." There is also "O'Tooles" in Royal Oak. The D has The Old Shil and, less famously but much more interestingly, the Tipperary Pub, on the Northwest side - you can see it driving south on the Southfield. Beemerham has Dick O'Dows (the entire interior was imported from Ireland); Ann Arbor has Conor O'Neil's. It's like an epidemic; I just didn't realize it was a MOVEMENT.

Back to World Domination. The Irish have slowly but surely penetrated every major market with their guile, and it's only a matter of time before the harp becomes the official musical instrument of South Korea. Viva al Celtic Tiger!

You know how sometimes bars or restaraunts will tack articles about themselves to their walls? This place was no exception. The Korean proprietor, according to the article, has tried to recreate the Irish (or at least the North Atlantic) experience at the bar. He explained that most Koreans will drink until they can't feel their legs (take it easy, soju), but they'll do it in the company of only those few folks they showed up with. There is no social interaction outside of the group with which one arrives to the bar.

Mr. Proprieter is evidently quite Worldly, and was quite taken with the open social interaction that takes place within Irish and British pubs. One hundred strangers can enter an alehouse in Dublin, watch one soccer match, and leave the pub as best friends. He evidently wants to recreate this same sense of cameraderie within the confines of Seoul. Alas, if only we had a soccer match to watch. I was instead forced to endure a Britney Spears-a-thon. This actually wasn't so bad for me, since they were showing all her videos, before she got, um, socially awkward. I didn't see any Koreans making new friends, but neither did I see that the bar was chock full of Westerners; it was definitely Korean-dominated, which was kind of fun, since with a name like Dublin's I expected it to be full of Americans, Canadians, Australians, and other Westerners. Let's hear it for breaking down ethnic barriers!

Oh yeah, a Guiness at Dublin's is 16,500 won, which is roughly US$18. That's one pint. We won't be going back.