i went back to gwangbok-dong and there was a parking lot instead of a home.

breakfast and coffee in haeundae, lunch in jeonpo, another coffee in seomyeon. late afternoon in gamcheon village. took a taxi back to walk around gukje and jagalchi market. in the middle of the two markets is gwangbok-dong - where my grandma and grandpa built a home for their five children. we grew up calling our grandma, 광복동 할머니. it means gwangbok-dong grandma. the house, the neighbourhood was her identity. who she is. it's where my mom grew up and lived until she got married.

several years ago developers bought the property. my grandma was getting old and living alone wasn't good for her so a family member made a (non-agreed upon) executive decision and sold it. they tore down the house without documenting anything and now in its' place: a parking lot. i call my mom to show her the street where her house used to be.

i stare at the parking lot for a few minutes. imagining my mom coming home from school, running down the stairs to meet her friends, setting the table for dinner. we keep walking. we have dinner with my mom's highschool best friend in nampo, an digestive walk to yeongdo and a nightcap at a pojangmacha. i feel tired and i fall asleep in the taxi back to the hotel.

i'll see my grandma in a few days. i'll tell her that i walked the streets of gwangbok-dong. i won't tell her about the parking lot but i'll tell her about the fish market that she walked to with my mom when she was little. i'll tell her that it was nice to see the neighbourhood. gwangbok-neighbourhood.

camera notes from today.

wednesday december 3, 2025

goodbye, busan.

i went back to gwangbok-dong and there was a parking lot instead of a home.

breakfast and coffee in haeundae, lunch in jeonpo, another coffee in seomyeon. late afternoon in gamcheon village. took a taxi back to walk around gukje and jagalchi market. in the middle of the two markets is gwangbok-dong - where my grandma and grandpa built a home for their five children. we grew up calling our grandma, 광복동 할머니. it means gwangbok-dong grandma. the house, the neighbourhood was her identity. who she is. it's where my mom grew up and lived until she got married.

several years ago developers bought the property. my grandma was getting old and living alone wasn't good for her so a family member made a (non-agreed upon) executive decision and sold it. they tore down the house without documenting anything and now in its' place: a parking lot. i call my mom to show her the street where her house used to be.

i stare at the parking lot for a few minutes. imagining my mom coming home from school, running down the stairs to meet her friends, setting the table for dinner. we keep walking. we have dinner with my mom's highschool best friend in nampo, an digestive walk to yeongdo and a nightcap at a pojangmacha. i feel tired and i fall asleep in the taxi back to the hotel.

i'll see my grandma in a few days. i'll tell her that i walked the streets of gwangbok-dong. i won't tell her about the parking lot but i'll tell her about the fish market that she walked to with my mom when she was little. i'll tell her that it was nice to see the neighbourhood. gwangbok-neighbourhood.

camera notes from today.

wednesday december 3, 2025

goodbye, busan.