It’s pretty nice here in Samyang, on Jeju Island.
But, from my apartment I can see the gardens growing all around me in open spaces, here and there. Onions, green peppers, 1/4 of a city block size field of grain. Men and women are bent over working in their gardens, or harvesting and drying seaweed.
A group of men in suits looks conspicuously out of place walking down the main road.
Nearby is a small hill I can walk to the top of in 20 minutes. On top, are two small Buddhist temples with ponds and flowering trees.
Groups of kids ride their bikes, then stop and get off to peer at the fish in the clear waters.
A man wearing a yellow raincoat stands with a fishing pole in hand and bucket at his feet, at the edge of the rock wall.
My coworkers invited us to their home and on outings to meet their friends.
When walking on the beach, a kid I’d said hello to earlier, ran out to me and gave me a caramel.
These are all remarkable luxuries I didn’t experience the first week in my Busan home.
Maybe. Maybe, I can do this!