The Green Space Vendetta

By William Urbanski.

Let me be the first to congratulate the erudite, brilliant, and overall stunningly wise individual who authorized the decision to destroy Yuan Geunrin Gongwon (유안근린공원, Yuan Neighborhood Park), one of the last public green spaces in Gwangju’s Bongseon-dong. In the face of public opposition, common sense, and reason, it takes considerable moral courage to stick to the objective of jamming as many buildings as possible into an already congested area. It is also a display of incredible bravery to stand up to the many children, senior citizens, and countless other residents who enjoy the park on a daily basis and to undemocratically expropriate one of the few outdoor gathering places in the area. By having the mental fortitude and valor to do, without asking, what is best for the populous, the individual who allowed this to happen has shown a level of compassion equal only to that of the Dalai Lama. I will personally be contacting the appropriate dignitaries in Sweden to see if the person responsible for this decision can be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize.

Back to Reality
I wrote that introduction a few weeks ago when I was still in awe of the sheer boldness of the decision to bulldoze the park in question. Now, I would like to take this opportunity to backpedal on my previous statements because upon careful reflection, I think obliterating virtually the last urban green space in the area might not be such a sound idea for reasons I will attempt to enumerate and explain fully here.

Before we get started, let us make something clear: This is not an article about environmentalism or protecting the wildlife. After all, the park never had any ecosystem to speak of: In fact, whatever “natural habitat” may have existed there at one point in the past was long-since replaced by the dingy parking lot on top of which the park sits. Furthermore, the entirely of Bongseon-dong is essentially a concrete jungle that, besides a few strategically placed trees, is the antithesis of a natural environment. So, the value of the park certainly does not lie in its natural biodiversity but as an open, public gathering space where people can congregate, sit, talk, or just simply enjoy the grass and trees.

What Is the Value of a Park?
As you have no doubt heard, property is a hot commodity in Gwangju, and in particular Bongseon-dong, where a run-of-the-mill and cookie-cutter condo runs north of half a million bucks. One of the main reasons for this is that Bongseon-dong is a popular area when it comes to education, and the main street is simply riddled with every conceivable sort of academy. For any family with children, this makes the area a pretty attractive place to live since the kids will have convenient access to the myriad education facilities (and, incidentally, students who live in Bongseon-dong have the reputation of being quite smart). So, the “feedback loop” looks something like this: There are lots of academies, so many people move there, which causes more academies to open up, causing more people to move there. This sounds all well and good, but one of the major problems this creates is that there is little to virtually nothing to do in the area that does not involve shelling out money since every square meter of useable land is immediately scooped up by those wishing to install some sort of business.

This brings us back to the park in question. In this desert of traffic, sidewalks, cafes, and billboards, the park is a refuge. While not extremely fancy or particularly large, it is well laid out, accessible to all, has lots of green grass and, to put it mildly, is a very popular place for the denizens of the area to gather, play, and relax. The park borders the main street, but has enough trees and bushes to block out the noise from the traffic, which is simply bonkers. Many times, I have walked through the park, even at night, and been surprised by how many people were there exercising. Besides this park, there are no other large, open spaces in the area, so it was very surprising that the park was chosen as a new location for a building that will eat up roughly twenty five percent of its area. The new building also cuts off one of the three main entrance points, reducing access by a third. You might be thinking, “So what? What’s the big deal? It’s just a park, and they’re leaving most of it intact.” But such a line of questioning misses the point that seizing a large chunk of public land for a building sends a clear message: Public space is a luxury the area cannot afford. I have not determined exactly what is being built on the spot, but it actually does not matter. What is beyond question is that reducing the amount of public space and green space, for whatever ostensible reason, makes an area less livable overall. It is also worth mentioning that more than a few people who live in the area are seriously PO’d about this whole affair.

Relating to the issue of public spaces for pedestrians, I noticed an interesting phenomenon in Bongseon-dong. Can you guess one of the most popular recreational spots in the neighborhood? A place where dozens of people regularly gather on evenings and weekends to get some exercise? A church parking lot. (You read that correctly.) The fact that residents who wish to stretch their legs are reduced to pacing around in circles on a dimly lit asphalt surface is proof positive that the area needs more public space, not less. As well, a parking lot makes a pretty crummy playground and/or exercise facility, not least of all for the fact that it is only a matter of time before a car comes screaming into the lot and flattens someone. To a degree, I would argue that the church parking lot is a microcosm of the area as a whole: a giant slab of concrete on which there exists an uneasy truce between lowly pedestrians and the dominant vehicles.

No Better Place for a Building? Really?
On the other side of the neighborhood, along the very same road, there is a massive construction project that has already started clogging up the area: a new apartment complex. These two projects will sharply increase traffic in the area that is already at its breaking point. That may seem like hyperbole, but if you do not believe me, I triple dog dare you to drive around the area on a Saturday afternoon or any day at rush hour. No doubt one reason for this state of affairs is that egregious parking violations in the district are not only tolerated but, in some ways, encouraged. To illustrate my point, roughly a year ago, I used an app specifically designed for the purpose of reporting illegal parking (in this case, people parked on crosswalks and in front of fire hydrants on the main street during peak hours). In each case, I was informed that the local government refused to issue parking tickets simply because they wished to encourage businesses in the area.

If the area really, really needed another building (which it does not), there are plenty of other spots that would have been perfectly good. Walking around the Nam-gu area, there is no shortage of recently demolished and soon-to-be demolished houses – and even an entire apartment complex that recently went the way of the dinosaur. In addition, there are numerous recently constructed buildings sitting with empty floors. Given that there is a multitude of other good sites to slap together either a building or the equivalent floor space, there remains only one plausible explanation for why the park was chosen as the location for the next bland, soulless edifice, (which, by the way, according to the schematic on the big gray fence surrounding the construction site, will feature, you guessed it, another parking lot): As a young child, the person who would authorize the destruction of the park was playing on some grass, slipped on a pile of dog doo-doo, fell, and skinned his knee while wearing his best pants. Upon returning home, he received no sympathy from his parents (or grandparents) and was also ruthlessly scolded for messing up the clothes that his parents had worked their whole lives to provide him. At this moment, the boy swore revenge against the great outdoors, envisioning himself as a John Wick-like character whose sole purpose was to carry out his personal vendetta on public green spaces by any means necessary.

So Long, Bongseon-dong
By the time this issue hits the stands, I will have already moved out of Bongseon-dong. Although the district has the best E-mart and the best Daiso in the city, there is no love lost since the area is simply too congested for my liking. I genuinely feel sorry for the residents of the area for whom leaving is not an option and who have no choice but to endure the loss of a space with a value that, while intangible, far exceeds that of any construction project. In my opinion, in terms of striking a balance between providing essential infrastructure and planning out a neighborhood that does not feel like a strip mall, it is too late for Bongseon-dong, but this saga will serve as a cautionary tale for other parts of the city. As for me, I am off to greener pastures.

Photograph by William Urbanski.