Koreatown of Los Angeles

As soon as we turned off the I-10 Freeway and onto Western Avenue I could tell this wasn't a sleepy neighborhood. Two lanes of snarling traffic in each direction flooded the congested roadway. Most of the billboards and shop signs read in Korean. Everything appeared compact and chaotic. Although we knew we were in Koreatown, there was a side that believed we could have been in Busan.

After a long 7-hour drive, the first thing we wanted was to get a bite to eat. We walked to the Koreatown Plaza—one of many shopping malls in K-town—and found the food court on the bottom level.

A large room with tables hosted an almost exclusively Asian crowd. We walked around the perimeter with all the different vendors and found a shop selling Korean street food. It was the cheapest option there.

I ordered the dduk ggochi, a rice stick with barbeque sauce on a skewer, and two bulgogi tacos. It was enjoyable eating the food, but also to watch the people in the food court.

We took a walk around to some of the other shops around the mall. There was a stand selling red ginseng, which was of interest. Also we walked inside a bookstore where all the books were in Korean. Jordan recognized several of the books (written originally in English) by the pictures on the covers.

Dduk ggochi, a rice stick on a skewer. 

Many Asians eating in the food court. 

The first Korean immigrants to Southern California came in 1902 and 1903, settling in Riverside and Claremont, and some near downtown in an area called Bunker Hill. Many of them worked in the railroad and farm industries.

Growth was slow in the beginning with only 650 Koreans living in the Los Angeles area in the 1930's. The population boomed with the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965. This allowed many Koreans to join family members who had already immigrated.

After Lee Hi Duk immigrated in 1968, he saw a need to provide Korean goods for the existing population. He established a store on Olympic Boulevard, which he called Olympic Market. This became a successful venture and provided groceries to the now 10,000 Koreans.

Drawing from that momentum he bought five blocks and brought in other Korean-owned businesses. His vision was of a “Korean Village.” This was the genesis of the modern-day Koreatown, and just a few blocks away from where we were currently visiting.

Korean book store. 

After a few hours spent at the beach that afternoon, we returned to our hotel in Koreatown and set out to find an authentic Korean barbeque. We found one near our hotel, which ended up being the highlight of the day.

We ordered the combo for three to four people for $98. We sat at a table with three burners and immediately the waitress brought us bowls of kimchi, rice, lettuce, and other condiments I couldn't name, and piling heaps of beef and pork onto the griddles. On the middle burner she placed the ingredients of a soup, which included noodles and tofu.

Sizzling aroma wafted through the air. We felt as if we had to hurry and eat before she brought us more. Every person had their own small bowl and chopsticks, and could experiment with any combination they pleased. It could be rice, beef, sauce and tofu; or lettuce, pork belly and kimchi.

By the time we left there was still food on the table and all of us were stuffed. It was a very good experience.

Plenty of food at a Korean barbeque. 

Korean barbeque. 

The following morning Jordan and I went for a walk through the neighborhood. The morning was cool and fresh, and the smell of blossoms filled the air. As we walked through the residential area nothing appeared Korean anymore. Architecture looked as if it were from the twenties or thirties. Street names like “Oxford” and “Normandie” were not at all Asian. The silhouetted skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles loomed in the distance.

With all this different architecture, I realized that this neighborhood was once occupied by another people. That brought up new questions: Who were these people? When did they live here? When did they leave? Why did they leave?

Old European architecture in Koreatown.  

Now and then a pocket of Korean shops would pop up. We passed the Seoul International Park where we saw elderly Asians using the park equipment to do their morning exercises.

Across the street stood the Korean Pavilion, the only true Asian architecture we encountered. The pavilion itself was small and the gate locked, but we could still see the ornate flare of its architecture.

It was interesting that we passed a house with a sign describing itself as a Zen Buddhist temple. It appeared nothing like a Buddhist temple.

An interesting fact about Koreatown is that it's very diverse with other nationalities, including those from several Latin American countries. As we walked we saw several vendors setting up street stands. One of them sold pupusas and we were tempted to buy. We also passed Pollo al la Brasa, a Peruvian restaurant.

Korean Pavilion near Seoul International Park. 

View of downtown skyscrapers from Koreatown. 

One of the buildings that stood out was The Wiltern, a greenish-blue 12-story building on the corner of Western and Wilshire (hence the name). The sight of it beckoned to an earlier time.

Technically known as The Pellissier Building, it was built in 1931and housed the Warner Brother Western Theater. It was later renamed The Wiltern Theater.

Over the years it fell into disrepair, but in the 1980's came the desire to restore it to its former glory. After four years of renovation the theater once again was able to host a wide variety of live performances.

The Wiltern.

Intersection on Wilshire Boulevard. 

There are several old churches in Koreatown. I don't know if they are currently active or have been re-purposed. One of the more impressive buildings is the Wilshire Boulevard Temple, a Jewish Synagogue. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to go inside, but did drive past.

For our final evening in Koreatown, I headed back out to the streets with Jordan and Kaitlyn. This would be our first time wandering in the dark. For most of our walk we felt safe because the streets were lit and empty. But we had one stretch where it was dark and fifty feet away from a homeless encampment. At that same time we heard someone from an apartment window yelling. We quickened our step.

Our destination was Jinsol Gukbap on 8th Street. The restaurant sat on a dark corner, but was well lit and friendly on the inside. The menu was very simple and consisted of dishes ranging from $17 a plate to $39.⸻I ordered the Bibimbap in Hot Stone Pot.

Before our orders came out the waiter brought seven small trays of condiments, three sauces, and a cup of rice. The trays consisted of kimchi, sliced peppers and onions with a spicy paste, pickled cabbage, sliced chives, a sweet and crispy vegetable in a sour sauce, cooked crab claws and a pickled pepper in red sauce. Of course, those represent my descriptions and not the reality of what they really were.

Then came the main course. It came in a piping hot dolsot and still sizzling. Arranged neatly in separate piles were carrots, shitake mushrooms, spinach and other vegetables I didn't recognize. In the middle sat a scoop of rice with an egg yolk on top. After waiting several minutes to let it finish cooking at our table, the waiter came over and squeezed gochujang sauce onto it, then mixed it all together.

Bibimbap.

A variety of condiments for our meal. 

It was a bit spicy. I ate it with a spoon, then used my chopsticks to grab a piece of kimchi or pickled pepper or whatever sounded good to chase it down.

It was past eleven by the time we finished and they were now putting up tables. I attempted to eat all I could of the condiments, but unfortunately couldn't fit them all in my tummy. When we left out the side door most of the employees were in the parking lot taking a smoke break. They were very friendly and waved goodbye.

Jordan and Kaitlyn giggling about something. 

As we walked back to the hotel on those dimly-lit streets I told Jordan that it reminded me of the streets of Phnom Penh. If the streets were just a bit narrower, I told him, the buildings looked similar and it had a similar smell.

We walked back to our hotel, past the homeless encampment and beneath street lamps. In an odd kind of way, it would be a moment that would create nostalgia. ♠