I’m Only Happy When It Rains

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I have never been a rainy day type person. I am actually a little more mental on cloudy days than I am normally and that isn’t good usually (yay! three adverbs) but I love Busan when it rains. This city, for reasons peculiar to itself, really benefits from a bath. It is normally a little dusty, a little grubby, and wears all of its odors maybe a little too proudly. A little rain gives it a shine and softens the stonger smells. It is nice.

And so it has been for the last few days, which have produced a steady drizzle. I don’t even need to look. I can hear the rain tread of the tires in the busy street up the alley. I think, BTW that the alley that terminates in at my building is the steepest and shortest in Busan, but this is most certainly wrong. It is certainly fun to navigate when neither of us are too dry (me or the alley).

I have never been a rainy day type person. I am actually a little more mental on cloudy days than I am normally and that isn’t good usually (yay! three adverbs) but I love Busan when it rains. This city, for reasons peculiar to itself, really benefits from a bath. It is normally a little dusty, a little grubby, and wears all of its odors maybe a little too proudly. A little rain gives it a shine and softens the stonger smells. It is nice.

And so it has been for the last few days, which have produced a steady drizzle. I don’t even need to look. I can hear the rain tread of the tires in the busy street up the alley. I think, BTW that the alley that terminates in at my building is the steepest and shortest in Busan, but this is most certainly wrong. It is certainly fun to navigate when neither of us are too dry (me or the alley).

I went to my first professional basketball game last night, the (Busan) SK Magic Wings versus the team in green. ‘Magic Wings’ always makes me think of some innovation in feminine hygene but I cannot recall from my subconscious the source of the association. The crowd, like so many here at any sporting event other than baseball, was sparce but enthusiastic. Koreans love to cheer and they aren’t afraid to jeer either. Professional Korean sports teams are allowed a limited number of foriegn players, and basketball is no exception. They were each allowed two gigantic African-Americans. Only one was allowed to play in the second and third quarter. we missed the first quarter (Allison, Jiho, and I attended), but when we arrived Busan was about three points down. The center for Busan (who remained in) was a likeable fellow who didn’t hog the ball and made some very good assists to his Korean teammates. By the end of the third quarter Busan had built a ten point lead mainly through team defence and excellent passing. The Koreans were not great drivers but they were able defenders and played a complicated pick and pass game akin to the WNBA. The center was several times signalled to stand on the baseline in three point land to draw his counterpart out of the lane, allowing the Koreans to run a successful set play, a role he graciously accepted.

The fourth quarter ushered in the other foreign player, a guy who probably would have played point or shooting guard in the NBA, and who thought (mistakenly) that everyone in attendance had come to see him. He asked for the ball every time down the floor and got it and proceeded to drive on triple teams. He usually ended up either laying on the floor, producing a fast break for the other team or being called for charging. The opponents scored 16 unanswered points and won the game handily. Needless to say I was disgusted.

Afterwards we went down to Yeonsandong (my neighborhood “downtown”) and walked the narrow alleys until we found a cute little chicken spot to eat. We ordered the variety platter and it was really good. Allison, my new coworker and apartment neighbor, ordered a pitcher of Soju and fruit punch, and ended up drinking most of it. The chicken was great and I brought the leftovers home. So ended another lovely rainy Friday night in Busan.



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