Losing and finding my cool in Gwangju

My palms moved mechanically, as my coronary heart flushed. I used to be folding shirts into compression cubes, following logical packing protocol earlier than an upcoming journey, however I saved listening to a loop of the evening earlier than, my voice rising above the suitable quantity for a Thursday evening prepare in Tokyo. I bought so labored up — and over what? Gender parity within the media? Tsk.

Inside my open suitcase, not one of the tidily organized rolls and zippered instances betrayed the internal chaos of their proprietor. There was one other emotion I used to be feeling, I noticed, in addition to embarrassment. Delight? Aid? In a approach, it’s good to know there’s nonetheless a bit combat left in me; lately I’m unsure if I’m dropping my cool or dropping my warmth, or how I must really feel about both.

The subsequent afternoon, feelings and socks all tucked away, I left for Seoul. A aircraft, bus and prepare later, I arrived in Gwangju, within the southwest of South Korea. Once I bought on the prepare, it was cloudy; after I bought off, buckets of rain have been slamming the bottom. The place the capital was gleaming with the trimmings of recent wealth and authorities funding, Gwangju was crumbling and uncared for.