Published by the Gwangju International Center since 2001
At the southernmost tip of Imja-do, where Korea’s West and South Seas make their murky acquaintance, is an excellent coastal cave called Yongnangul (용난굴). I’d wanted to see it for quite some time so, aroused from my mid-Chuseok torpor by a chance for adventure, I made the pleasant, bucolic drive to nearby Eomeori Beach with the missus to finally suss it out.
Numun-dong, located directly across the Gwangju Stream from Yangdong Market, is one of the city’s more variegated areas and a stellar example of how urban planners used to prioritize density differently through jumbles of mixed-use, low-rise structures. Even as it is now midway through the compensation process, the area is still teaming with grizzled locals and faded mom-and-pop shops that spill out onto the streets between rows of tightly parked cars. It even has a few garish love motels crowned with fake castle turrets and Russian onion domes, though these are mostly abandoned now.
The long, sandy shore along the northwest coast of Imja-do recently stunned me when I discovered that, even at low tide, the beaches had excellent sand as far as the eye could see.
For this issue of Lost in Gwangju, I’ve spent a great deal of my recent free time doing an amateur corpus analysis of messages I found scrawled on the walls of a dozen or so “punishment rooms” (징벌실) within the now-shuttered Gwangju Prison in Munheung-dong. There’s nothing academic about my analysis, and my methodology is spotty, but I think the messages I’ve found nevertheless hold deep value: They lay bare many of the thoughts and emotions that the human spirit conjures up while locked away in a solitary cage.
Among the ample little peaks studding Korea’s west, one that’s recently left me lovestruck is Jindo Island’s Dongseok-san. It’s about as far southwest as you can drive in Korea and a solid 2.5 hours from Gwangju.
Kim Eun-ju has spent many years behind the lens capturing images not only of first-hand survivors and the bereft of the Gwangju Uprising, but also of the Jeju Uprising and the Dirty War of Argentina.
Mokpo is such a great little city. Its geography alone is impressive, with rocky Yudal-san bookending the city’s peninsular core and shielding residents from the yearly barrage of typhoons. The city also sits at the mouth of the massive Yeongsan River, which originates in Damyang-gun, passes through Gwangju and Naju, and disgorges on either side of Goha-do.
There’s an island in Jeollanam-do, just off the southwest coast of Goheung, that I love so much I almost bought a second home there despite not having a first.
