Ah, Korea. Land I was born.

I moved to America with my family when I was two years old. My parents worked in the carnation nurseries and the company gave us free housing. We lived in trailers till I was in the fifth grade. We moved across town from the east side all the way to the south side.

Korea — I’m getting off-topic. What did I know about Korea besides what little I saw on family trips? I was born in Pusan, the second largest city in South Korea. It’s a port city on the south-eastern tip, a place where the men speak their minds and the women are friendly. During the two years I worked in Korea and built up a portfolio of photographs, I lived in Seoul, the country’s capital and proclaimed the most technologically advanced city in the world.

The city is beautiful in ways. The old stone houses in the Geumho district that are being torn down to make way for high-rise apartment complexes are remnants of a country pushing to develop itself after a bitter war. Ancient gates still stand, though its greatest, Namdaemun, was burnt down by a disgruntled citizen. I was able to visit the gate several times and even snapped a picture of it sitting in the middle of a city moving fast into the future.

Seoul. So many times I felt depressed when I saw its ugly underbelly — the women prostituting themselves to pay for their college educations, people yelling at each other in the streets, businessmen passed out on the sidewalk. I once saw a woman being harassed physically by a man. My head instructor told me not to get involved. To my surprise, the woman began to assault the man. Things like these aren’t exclusive to Korea — wherever there are people, there are struggles. Maybe it’s my perspective — a native displaced, a foreigner by circumstance.

I miss Korea. I miss its food, its passion. I miss the fashion-forward women who dress in fine clothes even if it doesn’t suit their own bodies. Seoul, a city where businesses come together to compete. Imagine a tech department store where one floor is dedicated to cell phones. Imagine walking off the elevator and having salesmen fight over the chance to sign you up.

In Yongsan, the street parallel to the main street outside of the subway station houses prostitutes. My friend guided me through that street one day in the afternoon.

I was shocked. It didn’t occur to me that such a thing could be seen so easily and before dark.

“Businessmen need loving too.”

Seoul. Capital of South Korea. A capital city of technology. A city in need of love.