E phatlaladitšwe: 17.04.2023
I have made a decision. I will cancel the capsule hotel in Singapore and find a hotel with a studio. For this, I will pay 300€ for three nights instead of 120€, but experience is the best teacher. 😅 Know your priorities and act according to 'Love it, Change it, Leave it'. Yes, this whole trip is supposed to offer experiences, but I don't want to waste my time.
I set off again, fueled by the motivation of my self-efficacy. To a place that I have come to appreciate in the last three weeks, that I miss, and now I catch up with it. I go to a temple nearby, which is about 30 minutes away. In Japan, I would have already found three other shrines on the way to this temple. But I have to admit that this is not Japan. On the way there, I come across CCTV signs over and over again. 📹 I look around, look up at the lantern poles. There are cameras of different kinds hanging there. Some are fixed and only point in one direction, but I also see 360° cameras that move constantly and unexpectedly. I wonder if it is an automated movement or if someone is actually sitting behind it and focusing on things. Welcome to 1984. I continue on.
When I arrive at my destination, I climb the stairs to the facility. When I get to the top, I am mildly disappointed, to say the least. The facility seems to have been attacked by time. Something is missing here that I have come to love in the past weeks. A certain energy that is fueled by regular visits. For me, this facility seems more like a decoration that is dutifully visited for major festivals. The impression is reinforced by the fact that I turn around and see the skyline of a cityscape. The wind carries the noise from nearby construction sites over. On the right edge of the horizon, I can see the competition, an evangelical church.
Even if I had wanted to hold my usual blessing ritual here, despite this strangeness, there is not even a place for it. The time in Japan has had an effect on me, that's for sure. It will continue to show to what extent. I move on to a much more popular temple. I navigate myself to the next mall.
I make a short stop at an eMart24, another version of the minimarts. In Japan, there is an obsession with tea, while here it is aloe vera. Unfortunately, it's sweetened, and I already get enough sugar here. One thing is similar in this relatively remote store. The change and receipt are also handed over with both hands and a slight bow. I love this little respectful gesture. It is so unbiased and connecting when both sides engage in it. For me, these are some of the few moments when I can build some connection with the people here.
I take a bus ride for an hour. I look out the window. There are only two good reasons for me to take a hop-on-hop-off tour. Probably there are fewer people on the bus, and the HoHo bus has an open-air deck.
During the ride, I pass by the Daewoo Marina, with sleep bunkers that are about 20 floors high, which are set up by the dozens in this district. Almost like the workers' quarters. I will encounter other names on such buildings, including Samsung.
I immerse myself in something familiar by putting on my headphones. The soundtrack of Goldeneye N64 plays for 40 minutes, in the orchestral version. Perfect for exploring and letting the area pass by. Or leaving it behind. It's Saturday after all, and the four-lane roads are jammed. Four lanes in one direction, mind you. Hyundais and Kias dominate the car landscape, but the typical German brands are also increasingly present. Porsche, BMW, Mercedes. There are definitely a lot more cars here than in Japan.
When I pass by yesterday's mall, I quickly close the window. Today it smells like rotten eggs.
The bus also drives through the outer districts of the port. Impoverished and dilapidated buildings that are slowly but surely being consumed by the skyscrapers around them. The door opens, rotten eggs.
Throughout the journey, I draw one train of thought after another in my pond of thoughts. After not even an hour in the concrete forest, my decision becomes even stronger. Tomorrow I will go hiking, weather permitting. Otherwise, this city will depress me even more.
Here and there, I read the slogan for Expo 2030. 'Busan is good'. Holy shit, can PR be that simple? Maybe I should change my job. I'm not a professional psychologist, but something tells me that the more clearly you have to say it, the more unbelievable it is. The previous impressions reinforce this impression. And it's not going to change.
Eventually, I reach my destination, BIFF square. When I turn the corner, I am overwhelmed by dozens of food stalls. They are all adorned with the inscription 'Busan International Film Festival'. Must be very international, considering the mass of ten Europeans and Americans that I will see today.
I explore a small building and find a small arcade. I love these places. Although it's less fun alone. I also noticed this obsession with realistic toy guns at Toys'r'Us.
I continue walking and come across a restaurant that I already noticed when entering. I read 'Menu in English available'. I suspect that it only applies to the menu, but I still take the bait. It's 3:30 pm, and I can break my fast by now. The remains of the noodle soup should be digested by my body by now.
I am led to a seat and choose something. Slightly spicy (relative to Asia) kimchi stew with a little meat in it. I learn two things here for my further culinary journey.
- The service staff doesn't come by constantly and talk to you. Either you call them or you use the bell at the table. Nice.
- Cutlery is at the table. Not on the table, but in a drawer in the table. I could have waited forever for it.
Plus the lesson that on my next trip to another country, I don't have to check the customs of the country at the table itself. 😁
When leaving, I pay the cheap 4.93€ with a 'Gam-Saham-Nida' as a thank you. In Japan, pronunciation usually matches the spelling. But here? It is written 'Gam-Saham-Nida', but pronounced 'Kammsa-Nida'. I tried to combine both imaginatively for three days. But even the automatic announcements don't want to cooperate.
I move on and accidentally come across the 'Napano Underground Shopping Center'. Underground Shopping Center? I expect something big; once again. It doesn't meet my expectations; once again. I walk through the rows of market stalls. It reminds me of a Polish weekly or flea market. Just underground. And without the fake music CDs.
I see sweaters for 10,000 won. €6.90 for a sweater? Well, China is around the corner, plus this is the southern port city. I let myself be swept along by the crowd and end up at the fish market. From here, I have a good view of the bay. Pretty nice here. But that's about it. It doesn't make the harbor more inviting.
Busan is not only good, no. I read 'Busan is ready - Expo 2030' everywhere. Yeah, right. The same principle applies here too. If you have to emphasize it like that, something is fishy. The proportion of English or non-Korean in South Korea's second-largest city is surprisingly low.
As I pass by a store, I think to myself: 'Hey? My store?' 'ShyMan' adorns the front. I have no idea what that's about, but it's a funny name. When I stand in front of the store, the penny drops. It's a 24/7 sex toy store without any staff.
I go to Lotte Mart, which is comparable to a large grocery store. The instant noodle section is as big as our entire breakfast section. I get a smoothie in an Innocent glass bottle, which turns out to be just regular juice. 🙄 When I pay at the self-checkout, I realize that having a Visa Debit Card is great. Having a Visa Credit Card in addition is even better.
After a short detour to the observation deck on the 13th floor, I go to the drone show on the beach. On the way there, I encounter cars that also have fully tinted windows at the front. These assholes probably don't want their faces noticed when they shit on pedestrian crossings and almost run me over. Fortunately, I have long since made it a habit to cross the streets with full attention.
When I arrive at the beach, I make myself comfortable on a ledge opposite swing rings that change color. Happy couples take photos of each other. After a tiring and disappointing day like this, I warmly welcome this joyful lightness and think of home.
After a while, the drone show starts. A countdown in English counts down from ten to zero, then the bridge is bathed in a play of lights while fireworks are launched from small boats. Only briefly. Only small. And then the actual show begins, today with the NASA theme.
Space has been one of my big passions since childhood. During the show, suitable music plays from the street loudspeakers. Somewhere in my immediate vicinity, invisible ninjas cut onions, and my eyes become moist. I feel myself break. This city is not good for me. I feel sorry for this city, in both senses. A quote comes to mind that Judith forwarded to me today, from Virginia Satir.
'We need 4 hugs a day to survive.
We need 8 hugs a day to live.
We need 12 hugs a day to grow.'
I don't even need to start counting. I think of Bernd, Jörg, and the gang. Judith and I have exchanged some thoughts on this and agreed that a lack of contact is always compensated by an addiction. That's why it's called an addiction, because you are searching for something. Whether it is recognition, food, alcohol, porn, gambling, drugs, you name it. I also feel that I can't find what is good for me here. I feel how seductive familiar and unhealthy coping mechanisms knock on my door. Slowly, it becomes clear to me that my path is not carved in stone. It is my journey, and I don't have to do anything that I don't enjoy. I reconsider my remaining travel plans. I question my remaining stay here in South Korea and Taiwan. I don't owe anyone anything. I am here to gather experiences. And that includes the bad ones. But I don't have to wallow in them.
This is not my city. This is not my battle.
'Love it, Change it, Leave it.'