"
Talk Article
Who knew a bus could be a time machine?
By Jonathan Marcus Earp
I’m sitting in my small one room apartment writing this article while drinking a strange herbal concoction and swallowing pills with unknown ingredients. I caught I harsh cold, where if I breathe I cough and if I don’t I die, and this is what Korea gives me. A remedy that has most likely been used since before Hangul was invented. Korea is a very intriguing place. Korea is at the cusp of worldwide technological advancement with huge, modern cities and a booming economy. Yet a short bus ride away you find a Korea that has not changed in decades if not longer.
Everyday I leave my aforementioned apartment, walk for fifteen minutes through a normal neighborhood and an even more normal downtown to the bus terminal. I catch bus number 33 which happens to head to my destination, Bonghwa. Bonghwa is a small town in central Korea nestled in a valley between many tree covered mountains. When driving on the highway you can hardly make out Bonghwa as it only creeps into view for mere seconds before another mountain hides it from view. This is the land that time forgot, a land that has no reason to change.
As I stumble off bus 33 I am greeted with the presence of a dozen or more ajummas selling their wares on the street. From clothing to shrubs, and everything in-between. I walk a block down the partially busy “main street” to the local bus terminal. This terminal consists of a big, cold, dirty room with dozens more ajummas waiting for their respective buses. While they look normal when they’re sitting down, about half of them have permanently bent backs from harvesting rice all their lives. People here have the scars of hard labor. The men are rushing past to get on their buses, with looks of pride over their acquisitions at the market that day. Some carrying shovels and others carrying various objects most likely meant to fix their equipment with. Everybody is pushing each other to get on the bus first. Of course I am always standing on this second bus ride. As this bus leaves and takes the even more desolate road out to my school I can see where these people get off, their homes.
What I see as barren is the home of a past generation that continues their traditions as the rest of the world grows. While the rest of the world may be developing it may also be growing more immature, as there can’t be a more mature place as Bonghwa. Bonghwa knows what it is and it is not going to change. Not because it can’t change, there’s just no reason or purpose to do so.
Bonghwa is a time capsule, remote and set in its ways. Only a bus ride away.
"
 |
| Unrelated pictures of the cherry blossoms I see every day. |
 |
| I am especially proud of this one! |
