Expo (3) — The Grand Opening
The Daejeon Expo finally opened its doors. Would you believe that Windows-based touchscreen kiosks existed all the way back in 1993? Of course, they weren't at a commercial level yet, but the very idea of using a kiosk to make reservations for individual exhibition halls felt incredibly fresh. I started to wonder if I'd been underestimating the 90s this whole time.
Of course, we didn't have time to dwell on any of that. Every single member of the KIN club had been drafted as temporary helpers. Naturally, that included me. The official helpers were all women selected to meet strict standards comparable to flight attendants, but since there weren't enough technicians who could actually handle the equipment, a few of us ended up working alongside some Korea Telecom employees.
The exhibition hall could be summed up in one phrase: a human flood. There were so many people it made me worry about a crushing accident. The layout had the main hall with its attractions leading directly to our auxiliary exhibition hall right in front. While the attractions had a decent turnover rate, our exhibit's nature—letting people experience computers—meant our turnover was painfully slow. In other words, the hall stayed packed to the brim.
To make matters worse, the president visited on the very first day, which made crowd control even more difficult. I even gave an explanation right beside the president, but I was so nervous that I barely remember any of it. Anyway, even though that summer was unusually cool, the sheer body heat from the massive crowds was more than enough to turn the inside of the auxiliary hall into a sauna. It got so bad that the air-conditioned interior actually felt more stuffy than outside.
Still, there was one reason we could endure it all.
Thanks to people who accessed the internet—especially the Expo Special—to view foreign landscapes, leave their impressions, and occasionally communicate in real time with people abroad (mostly international students) using hunt-and-peck typing, experiencing the cutting edge of technological progress and genuinely marveling at it with pure joy.
"Sometimes this kind of thing is nice. Later on, we'll get to see people looking just as happy while playing games, right?"
"Jeong-ah, stop trying to look cool."
"Hiiing..."
"Anyway, just look over there."
We were using the WWW by forcefully pulling in a network through the government pavilion, which naturally meant our connection speed was quite slow despite the so-called high-speed cables. In short, loading took forever.
This was basically synonymous with being able to play the dinosaur game quite often. At normal loading speeds, you'd finish one round and be done, but with the slowed-down internet, you could finish two rounds and still have a bit of time left. Thanks to the dinosaur game, there weren't many complaints about the slow connection.
The expo seemed to be sailing along smoothly despite the difficulties. However, as expected, the game hidden inside the browser ended up causing problems.
A 5,700-character civil complaint has arrived.
It was roughly a condemnation of putting games in a place where children were present. The full text went something like this: Putting games on computers that children will experience? Have you lost your mind? Games have strong addictive and harmful properties not just for children but for adults too, and exposing children to them is completely unacceptable. Especially since children have poor self-control—as seen today, there are kids throwing tantrums and crying, begging to use the computer just a little longer...
"This is ridiculous."
"I have no words. Where exactly does he see this as 'harmful'?"
It was a sharp observation. The kids were simply fascinated by the new technology and wanted to play with the novel toy a little longer. Why blow it up into such a huge issue?
"Unless the kids were deliberately disconnecting the network just to keep playing the dinosaur game, I don't see the problem."
"Doesn't seem like someone we need to worry about. No need to respond. Let's just ignore it."
So the expo continued without any major incidents. After about three weeks, traffic congestion had eased considerably. Even with our low turnover rate, things had become manageable. Well, not exactly comfortable—the crowds were still huge—but compared to the beginning, it was remarkably better.
But as always, things never went exactly as I thought they would.
[Invitation to the Expo Safe Opening Celebration]
It came from a place with striking blue roof tiles—the Blue House. It wasn't an Outer God like Nyarlathotep, but to me it was still an eldritch entity from another realm.
"I-seo's finally entering politics...!"
"It's not like that."
The most powerful symbol of Korea, with its distinctive blue roof tiles. The Blue House. Of course, getting inside the actual Blue House reception hall was impossible. The celebration was held at a luxury hotel's banquet hall instead. Even so, it was incredibly grand.
The absurdly high ceilings and the dazzling, sparkling interior—especially the lighting—were striking. If I had to describe it, it was like the interior of a high-end wedding venue from my original world, but scaled up several times. The round tables covered with black tablecloths had name cards for each participant. I barely managed to find my seat and sit down.
"You're early, Miss I-seo."
Ugh. The director of the special Expo department, who usually called me "Ms. Yoon," suddenly turned all sweet.
"Where's the deputy director?"
"It's his wedding anniversary, so he ran off by himself. Tsk. Lucky bastard."
Ack... I'd accidentally touched on the director's sore spot. It wasn't easy to stay unmarried in this era. Had this man poured his entire life into the company?
"Don't look at me with those pitying eyes. I'm married to the company."
"That's just self-justification."
"If it's not too rude, may I smack you on the head, Miss I-seo?"
Gasp. A polite form of speech had slipped out of the director's mouth. I needed to stop before he really got angry.
"By the way, there's something I want to say before the celebration starts, Director."
"...?"
A flicker of anxiety crossed the director's face. Why did everyone make that expression whenever I said I had something to do?
"Wouldn't you like to secure a much larger budget than you originally planned?"
The veins that had been about to pop on the director's forehead suddenly smoothed out into a benevolent expression. As expected, when dealing with corporate workers—especially managers—the cheat item known as budget was the most effective tool.
"First, I would like to express my gratitude to everyone gathered here. Through this expo, we have announced South Korea's leap forward to the entire world..."
After President Kim Kyung-sam's congratulatory speech, I followed the director around a literal mixed bag of political, business, and expo working-level personnel.
"One of the key figures behind the success is right here."
Then the president approached us first. I had thought I'd be lucky to meet a minister at best.
"Haha, are you surprised? This time I'm prioritizing meeting with the working-level staff..."
President Kim Kyung-sam cleared his throat a few times before continuing in a slightly softer voice.
"To be honest, I've seen too much of those other people. Shouldn't I meet the people I'll have fewer chances to see in the future first?"
The playful smile on his face, full of mischief, unconsciously eased some of my tension. Maybe this was why he was so popular.
"Do you have something you'd like to tell me? That's why I'm here, so feel free to speak your mind."
Um... I had a mountain of things to say, but for now I should stick to what the director and I had prepared. Talking about economics probably wouldn't grab much attention anyway.
"Since you've experienced the WWW yourself, I'm sure you understand how infinitely promising internet technology is. However, to properly use that WWW, we need high-speed cables. This cannot be done with existing telephone lines."
"Hmm..."
President Kim Kyung-sam began pondering as he listened to the director. This was where I needed to step in and close the deal.
"From what I've heard from the director, you're currently planning to reinforce existing communication lines. But I believe what we need right now is high-speed communication infrastructure more than anything. The West is already beginning to see a world where internet is available in every home, where everyone owns a computer and communicates with the entire world. We cannot fall behind. If you would consider the very reason we held this expo, I would be truly grateful."
Negotiation technique number one: comparison. People naturally want to keep up when they see their neighbor doing well. Give them just a little push, and the negotiation proceeds smoothly.
"I will strongly request this from the Ministry of Science and Technology. Thank you all for your valuable input."
Even considering the political rhetoric, that response was a clear pass with flying colors. After the president left, I ended up just sipping cheap wine before heading home. The wine was surprisingly low-quality.
The next day at the club room, despite suffering from a hangover, I had to recount my experience of meeting an important government figure to the club members. Honestly, I'd been so nervous that I barely remembered anything, and besides the president I hadn't really met anyone noteworthy, so there wasn't much to say.
I didn't understand why everyone had such fantasies about the president. In just a little while, there would come days when people did nothing but criticize him.
The [Basic Plan for High-Speed Internet Infrastructure] was announced several months after the celebration ended. Considering how long it normally took to draft such plans, it was actually quite fast. Little by little, the world was changing because of my existence.