Regarding the coronavirus crisis, much has been made of the Swedish model, but what about the Korean one? As I've stated repeatedly, life goes on here. This week, I took a three-hour bus trip to Namhae, visited a hilltop Buddhist temple in Beomeosa, strolled with the festive crowd through the bar and restaurant district of Seomyeon and basked my sorry assed carcass on Dadaepo Beach. In Namsan-dong, I followed a cranky old guy with a cane into a basement cafe, only to find it oddly dark and lined with semi private booths.
Cheap, eight-pronged lighting fixtures glowed red, blue and viridian. A TV was left on to drown out moist noises. It turned out to be a hostess joint, but with only one "girl."
Likely over 45-years-old, she was still sweet to behold, but since I had never had an appetite for such, I gulped my Americano while she comforted the old fart. Having survived war, poverty, backbreaking labor, widowhood and ungrateful children and grandchildren, he certainly deserved some boobies, if not a hand-job. Only $2.40 lighter, I reemerged into the sunshine.
Most of us are invigorated and comforted by the proximity of other bodies, so even when living alone, we prefer to have social spaces nearby. Bars, restaurants, cafes, shopping malls and parks all fulfill this essential need. We don't go to the stadium just to watch the game, but to be subsumed into a tribe, be it Wolverines, Buckeyes or Red Sox. Stadia are wombs, for sure.
Men have a more insistent need to get out, and that's why they become long distance truckers, airline pilots, sailors and mercenaries, etc.
When Kurtz' wife asked Marlow about her husband's last utterance, Marlow answered, "The last word he pronounced was -- your name." Of course, it was, most famously, "The horror! The horror!" An overly familiar horror is equated with one in a diseased-infested and hostile jungle.
Waking this morning, I could have stayed in my guesthouse room to write this, but I chose to take the subway many miles away, because, to begin with, it was soothing to see folks on the subway. I'm always touched by the sight of old Korean women who dress like small girls, with frills, ruffles and cartoon figures on their clothing, and even on the subway, many of them don't bother to take their ridiculous huge visors off. Dozing, one had her money purse carelessly placed on the seat next to her.
Wrapping this up, I'm at Lotte Mart, which is named after Charlotte of The Sorrows of Young Werther, by the way. To my right is some middle-aged guy in a cowboy hat, with two large books on his table, a very rare sight nowadays, of course. He's also writing, but with a pen. At another table, four people are happily munching french fries. Shoppers' babble fills the air.
It's sunny outside. Water you must pay for, but sunlight and air are still free, though rationed. While you read these coronavirus missives from California and Vietnam, I'm getting back on that subway. I'm getting antsy. Life beckons.
Bill, a retired American living in Morro Bay, CA
There are definitely worse places to be stuck in right now than Morro Bay. It is about mid-way between the LA and SF metro areas, about 3-4 hours drive from each, and definitely not big city, so things are much less crowded and more relaxed here so far. The grocery stores require everyone to mask up before entering, but you can still walk around town outside to your heart's content without getting dirty looks or police attention. The parking lots to all the beaches have been barricaded off, but you are still allowed to walk down there if you park on the street (with signs advising cars to park at least 10 feet apart!) Lots of food grows near here and the farmers markets are still open and full of food, so while we can't always get our favorites, we probably won't be the first to starve if the supply chain snaps completely. I retired about 3-1/2 years ago and no longer have a job to worry about losing, but income streams and even money itself are on uncertain footing nowadays. I've hedged as well as I know how against that eventuality.
My sisters, my wife, those few friends I have been able to stay in touch with, tradespeople I come into contact with -- all seem way too concerned about the virus itself, and completely oblivious about the wider implications of what we are doing to ourselves. They believe I'm being overly dramatic when I tell them that things will likely never go back to "normal" again, especially in the US.
My habit is to walk a few miles every day, and I still do that with no issues. I've been out a handful of times, mostly to the grocery store and the farmers market for fresh stuff. There is a lot of little stuff we take so much for granted that we may not even notice it can't be done until we need it and it isn't there. Haircuts is one good example. The dentist is another; I was able to actually make two visits to the dentist, believe it or not -- he said that as long as he doesn't have to drill (which creates an aerosol), he can still accommodate occasional patients. I was unlucky enough to be awaiting a crown from the lab when the lock-down hit, and had a temporary filling that kept coming out, so he had me in to put in the permanent one. Being able to eat and enjoy it becomes a much bigger deal when you're home all the time!
I made my annual trip to Taiwan back in November, and came home just before Thanksgiving, prior to the start of all this hoo-hah. My wife always stays longer, and originally was going to come back in late March, but the virus changed her plans. Taiwan seems to be handling this much better than most, with very few sick people and life pretty much like normal, so she feels her health is not as robust as mine, she decided to extend her stay indefinitely. I'm flying solo here in the US until she decides it's safe enough to fly home.
Modern Taipei is a very sharp and modern city that no one would be ashamed or reluctant to call home. Unlike most big cities in the US, there are no "bad neighborhoods" anywhere in the sense of personal safety. You can wander to your heart's content and never feel threatened or at risk. The Taiwanese themselves are congenial and friendly folks, and it is from the heart and not due to some outdated sense of deference to prosperous Westerners that used to be more common. Everyone behaves well on mass transit, and many young people still give up their seats for the elderly or infirm. More than once when I was studying a street map on the wall at one of the MRT stations, a couple of young people who knew decent English came up and asked me if I needed help finding something.
My wife and I have thought about selling out and moving over there, but I myself am concerned for Taiwan's future. Here in the US the likely end game is that things will go off into the weeds, with the quality of life taking a serious turn for the worse for everyone but the uber-wealthy. But in Taiwan it still seems possible that a belligerent China may yet decide to force the issue, and end up in an actual war or under mainland occupation. The US may end up involved, or even worse, be instrumental in forcing such an engagement; if so, being a US citizen in what would become a China-ruled island might be hazardous to one's health for a while.
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