I woke up from the previous night’s hangover still dressed, but this fact was pretty well hidden by the fact that I was in a hostel, a place which generally gives you the right to act strangely. I cuddled in bed with my laptop a while longer to ensure that all traces of my headache were well gone. I also still had plenty of internet to catch up on. I at some point got up and inquired with the hostel staff at what there was to do in this town. The hostel staff divided into two camps; the volunteers who were all foreign and all very nice, and the paid Korean employees who could not have cared less. One of the nicer ones recommended I go eat at an Indian restaurant. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it worked. I didn’t have too much direction regarding what to do in Busan, so for the most part I wandered around, pretty aimlessly. At some point I wanted to challenge myself to take a picture of everything that said ‘Samsung’ on it, but I figured I would break my camera from overuse if I did. There was also a film festival winding down the first few days, but it wasn’t something I was really willing to do on my own.
In my room at the hostel there was an American guy from Texas who had spent the past few months working as an English teacher in Thailand and caught a pretty bad deal. He then got a job in Japan and tried to move out there, only to be kicked out at customs because his employer fucked up his work visa. He was not just hanging out at the hostel, supposedly on his employers dime, while his boss figured out what to do next. Went out with him once to an american bar and had a pretty good steak and cheese