I went to Daehak-ro because I had something to do. Daehak-ro is always lively. If I look closely at individual faces, everyone must have worries of their own, but when I am in a good mood I can ignore such things. When I am not in a good mood or have worries, even faces more worried than mine do not comfort me. To me, enjoying a state of no problem, anything other than that no-problem state could not become scenery.
On holidays I often go to Jongno. I look around the event booths in Seoul Plaza, cross to Daehanmun in front of Deoksugung, and stand watching the changing of the royal guard. Now that I think of it, that ceremony sometimes changes slightly. It gives small variations and returns, and catching those is one small pleasure. Then I walk to Youngpoong Bookstore near Jonggak, or go to Kyobo Bookstore at Gwanghwamun. If I need Line 1 I usually go to Youngpoong; if I need a bus, I go toward Sejong Center and therefore to Kyobo.
Today I headed to Daehak-ro to watch a theater performance. It was not the first time in years that I had been there; once or twice a year I had passed through for errands unrelated to performances. But visiting Daehak-ro itself as the destination had probably been nearly ten years.
Walking through the subway station toward the exit, many people passed. The passage was not narrow enough to feel crowded, but despite being short it had a Samseong Station mood. If Hyehwa Station’s passage were a little narrower, the crowd would probably be felt more strongly. Samseong Station is larger and longer, so the number of people cannot compare. Most of the people seemed in their twenties or thirties. Sookmyung Women’s University Station and Hongdae are similar, but each time I feel this, I am startled. When I was in that age range I did not think much of it, but I keep aging while the floating population there remains that age. It feels like an old close friend suddenly turning away from me.
After climbing the long stairs out of the station, sunlight poured down like summer. I had thought it would be hot even when leaving for the subway, but sunlight encountered after the train has dug through tunnels has a different texture from sunlight met when leaving home.
That sunlight created the good mood I mentioned. It was pleasant by itself. The girl who nearly bumped into me while looking at her phone, the elderly couple holding hands and walking diagonally to the left, blocking people behind them - all had hair shining brilliantly in the sun. A street stall was making something hot, and it almost seemed to cook with the warmth of sunlight. Yet what made the sunlight feel like sunlight was not only the light itself, but, because I am human, the fluttering spring dresses and primary-colored T-shirts. In a place without people, atmosphere would be only physical numbers, subjective or objective. Without those clothes that meant everyone agreed it was a spring day, I might have imagined a zombie film.
The sunlight struck the blocks from one direction, so depending on the street, shadow appeared or everyone was exposed. The street I entered was so lit that the asphalt looked yellow. Young men and women holding laminated theater and performance information were recruiting members. Countless people ignored them and walked on, while cars pushed between them and flowed slowly toward the main road. On one side a crane stood to hang a sign, so pedestrians and cars had to move through half the usual width. It was complicated. Looking back, though, there were not actually that many people. If everyone moved slowly, there would be no accident, no fight, no reason to feel offended. That too must mean it was still spring. Once the rainy season passes and humidity fills the air like a sauna, that same situation would be enough to hear irritation from every direction telling people to wait and move.
When I came out after the performance, it was nearly evening. The sunlight still looked strong, but the temperature had changed. With its saturation heightened, the air felt a little cooler. Food at the stalls no longer looked scorching hot but warm. It was not chilly, yet autumn fit the temperature better than spring. It was not yet sunset, so I only felt a slight rise in color saturation, but I did not need to imagine to know the sunset would be beautiful.
Walking makes a person’s life healthier. The fact that it improves mood is enough value. Even writing from the memory makes me feel as if I have gone out walking again, and because of that my mood now has become very good.
Korean original: 외출