As I stand nervously in the dark, a street lamp flickers and the sound of a car exhaust echoes down the empty six-lane street. Stepping back from a locked green door, I glance up at the red neon sign reading “DGM Soju Bar” and wonder how to enter. A young Korean-American greets his friend on the corner, eyeing me with quiet suspicion.
Sensing they are heading to the bar, I follow them on a convoluted route around the back, my shoes clicking on the aluminium stairs. Chasing aromas of garlic and chilli through a dim corridor, relief washes over me as I emerge into a courtyard strung with fairy lights, filled with chatter and clinking glasses of soju, Korea’s rice spirit.
