Backwards From Korea to Canada

I left in a rush, afraid of missing the taxi that my American friend's Korean wife called for me.  (I owe her big for that, as I could not possibly have ordered a taxi in Korean.)  I had packed the night before, and so was ready to go.  But not completely ready.  I still had to put a few last items in my bags and zip them up.

When I got to the front door of my building, the taxi was waiting for me, and I requested that the driver take me to Gimhae airport.  He gladly obliged.  And so, down the hill from Baekyang tunnel we rolled until we reached the underpass that also serves as a u-turn lane.  Then, back up the hill and through Baekyang tunnel we climbed.

I smiled when I rolled through the tunnel.  I remembered how Mr. Lee, he who had collected me from Gimhae when I first arrived in Busan, had taken me through this tunnel.  I remembered its white brick walls and the vertical programmable displays that provide information to drivers, in Korean of course, at numerous points along its length.  And I remembered how a few months ago, these road signs had been for me symbols of the foreignness of the culture and country into which I was venturing.

After we passed though the tunnel, I looked out through the rear window of the car and said goodbye to Baekyang mountain, the mountain that I had climbed on Christmas day, and promised it that I would return.  Then, flying out of Gimhae airport, I thought about how this is the first time that I travel this path backwards, from Korea to Canada.  And I remembered how the return trip of a voyage is usually for me an opportunity to see the path that I have travelled from a new angle, and to gain a better understanding of where it is that I have gone.


In Canada, I first spent some time in the Sudbury area, reconnecting with my family and the place where I grew up.

Old buildings in downtown Sudbury

A church steeple and a water reservoir, in Sudbury

Then, I visited my significant other, who lives in Ottawa, near Wellington street.  Not Wellington street, home of the Canadian Parliament and other national institutions.  Wellington street West, one of the main arteries transecting the residential neighbourhoods of Westboro and Hintonburg.

When I first saw Wellington street again I felt sad, as I realized how much I missed my former home town while I was in Busan.  I did not live near Wellington street when I lived in Ottawa.  I lived in Sandy Hill, near Laurier avenue.  But Wellington street and Laurier avenue are very similar.  Both pass through fairly wealthy neighbourhoods, where the homes are built in a British style, often using red bricks.  Both streets have a number of commercial spaces, and the neighbourhoods they cross have many large trees as well as a few parks.  Seeing them again after spending four months in Busan, the trees and open spaces of Ottawa's neighbourhoods were more striking to me, and I realized how much I appreciate them.

Wellington street West, in Ottawa

Wellington street West, in Ottawa

Typical Hintonburg homes.

More Hintonburg homes.

While in Ottawa, I also came to know and appreciate a section of the city that was previously unfamiliar to me, the sector known as Mechanicsville.  Mechanicsville is a neighbourhood located near Hintonburg, but its homes are more modest.  Its moniker comes from the fact that many mechanic shops are located there.  I like Mechanicsville very much.  It seems affordable, quaint, and just a short distance away from Wellington street, where coffee shops abound and groceries can be bought.  I would love to live there some day.

The Parliament of Canada in the distance, from Mechanicsville.

A snowy Mechanicsville street.

A mechanic shop in Mechanicsville.

Homes in Mechanicsville.

More homes in Mechanicsville.

Another Mechanicsville home.

It's amazing how much one's understanding of a place can change after spending some time away from it.  Living in Busan has certainly made me see Ottawa differently.