Near the theatre in Nampodong, Busan, I came upon a 73 year old man dressed as a clown, on stilts, doing the hula hoop. According to his informational poster on the ground next to a basket full of money, a bullet went through his leg during the Korean War. Now he is raising money to open a church in North Korea by dressing as a clown and doing the hula hoop for the visitors to the international film festival. When he saw me he started shouting “I think you are American!” I had to leave.

My favorite movie was the first one that I saw: Jindabyne, based on a Ray Carver story. I had a hamburger on a bun made out of rice and drank a lot of Dunkin Donuts coffee. Dunkin Donuts are frickin’ everywhere. Also everywhere in Busan: puppy shops. With cute puppies in the windows. Cute, fluffy, white puppies whose ears have been died green.

Stayed in seedy love motels. The kind where you can check in at midnight, the dude hands you the key, and send you upstairs with a toothbrush. If you’d told me a year ago that I’d go on a spur of the moment trip to watch six movies in two days from three countries, and sleep on a bed with a red pleather frame that an unfathomable number of people have gotten it on in, that I didn’t really want to get under the covers of, with a nice view out the screenless window of the roof of the building next door, I do not think I would have believed you.

But the beach was nearby and I love the way cold sand feels on bare feet when you walk on it after dark.


One comment

  1. yeah. i find myself in situations i never dreamed of as well. and all i did at home was dream of coming to korea…. so i totally understand that strange feeling.

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