Coming to
Busan was a shock to see and initially a very overwhelming experience. Spending
the last few days in the peaceful countryside where the only noise would be the
chirping of cicadas or the distant hum of a car was quickly contrasted by the
blaring K Pop, nonstop traffic and constant crowds of people hurrying back and
forth. It truly felt we had entered another world, or another time and era all
together. Living in the past had truly made for a brightly colored and loud
future.
One of my
friends had been lucky enough to sit next to a friendly resident of Busan who
attended Busan University during our bus ride. She had told my friend all about
the different spots to see and visit in Busan and the best places to stay for
the night. With that knowledge we hopped into a taxi with a destination in
mind: a jimjilbang named Homers, supposedly one of the fanciest jimjilbangs in
Busan.
The taxi
ride was a long one, taking well over ten minutes to arrive at our destination.
Traffic and tall buildings bathed in neon light was a constant reminder that we
were back in the big city, back to civilization. We were still recovering from
the shock of being back. I used to enjoy living in the city and being part of
the hustle, it made everything feel dynamic and alive. Everything was always
moving. Everything was always exciting.
My love of
the city was subsided during my trip. I had gotten used to the peace and quiet;
I was beginning to appreciate how much time and space I had in the rural areas.
The air was cleaner, the people nicer and the food tastier. Our cab driver was
mostly silent on the way to the jimjilbang, only occasionally confirming our
destination. I was officially missing the smaller places; I even missed the
talkative cabbies.
We arrived
at Homers and were greeted with a large building in front of us. The inside
lobby was a posh collection of immaculate polished floors, shiny glass
chandeliers and smooth brass railings. Dressed in only a sweaty t shirt and
carrying only a backpack, this place was much too fancy for my vagabond looking
self.
Homers was
two parts, one a jimjilbang and the other a hotel. Both were connected and both
could allow different people to go back and forth as they choose to. The
jimjilbang was on the higher floors and despite being slightly less fancy, it
was still the most impressive jimjilbang that I had been to yet. The highlight
was a huge window that allowed a view of Busan’s famous bridge from the
jimjilbang hot tub or the sleeping area. It was only a few feet away from one
of the smaller beaches in Busan, with a view that allowed you to see the dark
waves crashing up on the shore and the brightly lit stands selling food and
random trinkets to shine brightly below.
Being that
this was towards the end of our trip, the fatigue of traveling around was
beginning to catch up to all of us. Despite the novelty of the place we were in,
sleep was a main objective. As much as I wanted to sleep, my body was still too
active, still too excited to go to sleep just yet. Thankfully my friend sitting
next to me was not quite ready for bed either (or was and I ended up keeping
her up) and the next few hours were spent talking and taking in the view in
front of us. It was funny to think that at the time, our journey started in a
bus station with the mountains in the background and was now ending with a
bridge and the ocean. It was a comforting and triumphant thought as the room
grew dimmer and my eyes grew heavier.
I was immediately
awoken by a sound intimately familiar with. I bolted up to the sound of the
entire room’s scream, once again awkwardly looking around trying to get over my
initial shock and disbelief that something like this could happen to me again.
My blurry
eyes made out a large group of people glued to the TV in front of them. By the
time I had put my glasses on and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, I was finally
able to piece together the chaos as the room once again let out a unified
scream that shook the room.
The soccer
game between Korea and Japan was on TV, the game that was one of the biggest
games for any Korean with even a passive interest in sports. It was nation
versus nation, pride versus pride and even at three in the morning, these fans
were going to show their support.
With the
outburst of noise, sleep was no longer a viable option. I moved around the room
watching the people and the game, not really angry or tired but more amused and
interested in a game that had now managed to capture the attention of the
entire formally sleeping room.
By the time
the sun began to peak over the ocean and rise between the columns of the
bridge, casting its lights and shadows on the sand below, the noise and
excitement had just reached its peak. Korea had just won the game, the crowd
had gone wild, and the yelling and the screaming was slowly beginning to die
down. After the last few people had finally left the TV, quiet had swept over
the room again and the quietness was finally back, inviting for someone who had
only previously slept a few hours before, just enough time for an hour of sleep
before having to wake up again.
The reason
we awoke so early was to meet another friend meeting up with us. Not only would
we be traveling around Busan with him, we would be traveling around in a car
that he had rented and he would be driving. I had ridden in cars around Korea
before, but never with close friends and never for the purpose of just driving
around.
The sun was
shining brightly as my friend signed the release papers and we cautiously got
into our small fuel- efficient car for the first time. We would be driving in
one of the biggest cities in Korea with some of the more aggressive drivers in
Korea. My friend said a prayer for us before we left. We all laughed it off as
a joke, but I secretly suspected that she was not.
The worry
and fear of driving was quickly replaced with an incredible sense of freedom
and excitement. We were riding in our own car in Korea. We didn’t have to rely
on the subway or the bus. We were free to go where we wanted to, listen to our
own music and leave when we felt like it. The freedom and giddiness was
infectious and soon everyone in the car was laughing and talking on where to go
and what to do.
I never
thought you could encapsulate the feeling of driving for the first time but
this was a moment that was perfectly replicated for me. We were young, we could
go where we wanted to, and we had no worries.
We spent the
day driving to random places in Busan, occasionally taking a look at a map to
get a solid idea of what areas to visit. We ended up going to two large malls,
one of which was supposedly one of the largest in the world, a driving range
bowling and finally finishing with a steak dinner. Relatively normal and characteristic
of big city living but I didn’t care. We went to these places with good people,
drove there with our own will and did next to no planning.
The trip had
come to an end and as I boarded my train to go back home and prepare for my
return back to the work force, my mind was completely at peace. No reflection,
no worries and no planning ahead. Just silence and serenity existed where only
a few weeks before worry and stress.
There was
nothing left to think about. I now had everything I wanted, everything I
needed.
 |
Our chariot of freedom in Busan
|
