We’ve spent a majority of our time in this hockey arena during every trip we’ve made. After a while this place doesn’t look like an ice rink, but a second home. We know the ins and outs of it just like a local does. The smell of cold still air, rubber mats and sweat linger. The dull echoes of conversation in Korean bouncing off the old concrete walls. And sheer silence abruptly disrupted by a flurry of skates scraping the ice as a puck drops. Home away from home.