I confess starting a transit blog has been a pretty neat sleight of hand: it permits me to build out my travels around the blog’s topics of interest and then charge it as a fact-finding mission. It’s not that I was ever going to skip out on the trains and buses when abroad, of course. But I get to grant myself extra license to ride, observe, and note liberally in hopes they become blog material when it all clicks in my head. When it does indeed click, it is mighty fun.
I have just returned from an extended trip to Japan and South Korea this summer. Despite my extended coverage of both countries on here, it was my first time visiting Japan and a return to South Korea, my homeland, after 25 years. Both countries offer so much for those visiting as plain tourists, but again, S(ubstack)-Bahn blesses me to go beyond, to seek out experiences which corroborate and build upon itself.
In Japan, I had the luck of riding — and experiencing firsthand — some of the lines reaping the benefits of the Commuting Five Directions Operation, the mega-infrastructural project to add train capacity in Tokyo’s busiest regional lines. In Osaka, where I was based, I thoroughly enjoyed the massive malls and hotels next to train stations, these transit value capture behemoths unleashed by its private railways (especially Hankyu Railways) and, later, the privatized Japanese Railways companies. I saw up close, and with puzzlement, the facial recognition fare gates located throughout Osaka Metro stations — which I touched upon in my post on the creeping security militarization of Metros worldwide. I took several regional trains out into the countryside, enjoying the rural networks which so crippled the public Japanese National Railways and ushered in privatization in the dawning of neoliberalism.
In Korea, I got to ride Seoul Metro for the first time since I was a child. It was a visceral experience to see how far the system has come in a quarter-century. I got to experience the incredible madness that is Seoul Metro Line 1 and the Yamanote Line-equivalent Line 2, the rides made sweeter knowing their full origin stories. I endured Seoul’s infamous rush hour train crowding, as I had written about the crowded “Hell Line”, Line 9. I took the train out to suburbs and visit the apartments I grew up in, the direct source of inspiration for my most recent post on the intersection of housing and transit politics in Seoul. I also witnessed a very small protest of wheelchaired users at a Seoul Metro station, to whom I felt a deep kinship toward because writing has this magical effect of letting you relate to people and a cause even though you are thousands of miles away.
This trip was a deeply validating one. Often times, especially the writing is not going so well, I wonder if the writing here is too esoteric, too irrelevant, too boring. Your feedback — commenting, liking, subscribing, sharing — snaps me out of the negativity. And then these firsthand experiences weld together all that I have written to the motions of the real world. Only recently have I felt all the posts on this blog — scattered in histories, ideas, and geographies over three years’ publication — come together and present an unifying worldview and real-world applicability, and that emergence has been personally satisfying.
I plan to continue writing here. I have several ideas, some inspired by the trip, which I hope to flesh out over however long to bring to your inbox.
I am blessed to say S(ubstack)-Bahn now has more than 2,000 subscribers. I hope it is never lost to you how much I appreciate your readership, interest, and support.
I have three items to ask of you, the readers:
I am honored and excited to speak in the panel, “What can California learn from transit in Taiwan, South Korea, and Japan”, hosted by the transit advocacy organization Seamless Bay Area on July 16th. I will be speaking on South Korea and Japan’s transit successes and what can be imported to California. I really hope you can RSVP (click on the button below) and join what I hope will be a lively discussion.
As a former BART employee, I am keenly aware of Seamless Bay Area’s amazing advocacy work in my Bay Area. I met Ian once on a Caltrain at Millbrae for a Bay Area transit event in Palo Alto, and I am flattered Ian regarded S(ubstack)-Bahn high enough to invite me to speak. To share the stage with an actual academic like Dr. Chang, as a blogger cosplaying as an academic, is also very humbling.
Over the past few months, four readers graciously pledged for a paid subscription if S(ubstack)-Bahn ever created pay-to-read content. I’m flattered by the notion that this blog is worth giving money toward to keep it going.
When I started S(ubstack)-Bahn, I never wanted to make money here. If I believed the ideas I was writing about were so imperative to share, then I did not believe it should be walled in. Transit history writing is scarce as is, and I feel uncomfortable adding to its inaccessibility. However, frankly speaking, it can be hard to pour personal time and money with no payout at the end. As a small compromise, I created a Ko-fi account where readers may donate or tip me if you so choose. I will be using the money toward printing out large PDFs, buying books or journals, and grabbing a cup of coffee to find the time and energy to publish the next S(ubstack)-Bahn post. I will be adding this button to future posts going forward.In my recent post exploring France’s transit renaissance, I collaborated with another transit thinker for the first time on S(ubstack)-Bahn. I greatly enjoyed that experience, and I want more of it. I would be happy to collaborate with others who think about transit in a similar manner as I do. This collaboration can happen on S(ubstack)-Bahn or your terrain of choice, whether it be a formal publication, another blog, a podcast, etc. So hit me up on Bluesky, Twitter/X, or seungylee14 at gmail dot com.
Lastly: I would be really keen on working with — and even paying for — those with editorial experience to be a editor on call for S(ubstack)-Bahn. As a former newspaper reporter, I recognize the immense value of having an editor. I catch grammatical and editorial mistakes all the time after publishing, and it is very frustrating. I know how hard it is to find a good editor. Considering I publish 4-8 posts a year, I hope this will not be a burden to the editor. If you have enjoyed my posts and have the chops to be a part-time editor, please do reach out.
Thank you. Choo choo.
Your series on the privatization of the JNR led my partner and I to watch over 3 hours of TV specials on the event that aired in Japan at the time, and we constantly reference the JNR like exiled aristocrats nostalgia-tripping on memories of the ancien régime ^^ Never let anyone say your writing never impacted anyone!
I always look forward to your posts, precisely because I know it is all passion-and-insight. Keep up being the densha otaku of substack we all want you to be.