This week I want to offer you a photo with a story. I will not add more. Just the thought that this rich society of waste produces so much pain that is increasingly visible, even if hidden
“We approached Namdaemun Market from the subway station at City Hall - across from the old Joseon Palace, and several blocks away - yet always an interesting walk.
Normally, there are scads of tourists in this area - an easy walk to the palace in one direction, trendy Myeongdong not far away, and Namdaemun, also. Yet things have changed with the pandemic, and people in public are scarce. These days, it’s hard to imagine that Seoul has a larger population than New York City.
After a few quick blocks we walked along that main thoroughfare that passes Namdaemun Market, the Lotte Department Store across from Myeongdong and eventually leads to Gwanghwamun Gate - the north gate, and the largest of the original eight.
A lane that leads into the market area borders S.’s favorite pharmacy. For years, two women have been stationed at this modest intersection, selling traditional Korean packaged food items. I have passed them countless times over the past five years - always exchanging greetings, yet unsure if I really registered with them. On Monday, the two women were still in place, actors in a play that never ends. While I cannot speak much Korean, I understand many conversations - and one woman in particular spoke to S., and asked about me.
To be out and about with a camera, and in this case the Ricoh GR II - which intimidates no one, was so refreshing. I wondered if I had lost the knack for street photography. Naturally, S. and I made our way to the Lotte Department Store - which is Mecca for her. Since the cliental have panache, dress without regard for knock-off discounts and brandish respectable credit cards - there can be no possible worries about the pandemic. Yet the store was also lean on customers, and it almost felt like the staff outnumbered shoppers.
I can hardly stand to mill around a department store. It’s pure punishment. Luckily, the Lotte Department Store features a semi-enclosed seating area outside the main entrance with a pleasant view of the street. I camped there while S. made her rounds inside the store. I took a seat on a wooden bench area and noticed a crumpled up piece of clothing nearby. It looked odd - like someone’s abandoned coat or perhaps even a large book bag. I sat there no more than 10-minutes, when I decided to walk around. What a shock when I realized the item I regarded as some neglected clothing was a man so bent over that his head just disappeared altogether. It’s as if he had no spine. His exact condition was difficult to discern. Drunk? Passed out? Non compos mentis? He made no sound - accept for showing some signs of being alive. Women coming-and-going passed right by him - regarding the man as I did … a non-entity. A yet there he was in our midst, beaten by life - whether for the moment, the day - or considerably longer, it was impossible to say. I tried to document him from several angles - knowing that I was flirting with condemnation by Koreans and the #povertyporn crowd. Yet I could not resist, and finally felt satisfied with what I posted to P-S.”
