I made it all the way to Gwangju, two hours on the subway, and then I opened my bag and realized I’d left my phone at home. Not just any phone. My broadcasting phone. The one I use to stream.
So here I was, standing in the middle of a city I’d never visited, with no map, no GPS, no way to look anything up. I had my old fold phone with me, the one I use for watching videos, so I turned on the stream with that. The quality was terrible. The frame rate was worse.
Viewers started complaining about motion sickness. I laughed it off on camera, but inside, I was panicking a little. I’d come all this way to show everyone the traditional five-day market. Instead, I was wandering around like someone from thirty years ago, asking strangers for directions.
The chat was mostly amused. Some called it a “one-generation-old” experience. I told them I’d only do this for one day. Then I started walking.
First, I needed food. I stopped an older man on the street and asked where I could find a raw fish restaurant. “Just keep going straight,” he said. “Two blocks.
”
“Thank you. ”
I kept walking, asking more people about cafes, about the market, about which direction I should go. Every time someone gave me directions, I felt a small relief. But also, I was realizing how much I depended on that little screen in my pocket.
Without it, I was just a guy with a fold phone in his hand, trying to remember how people used to live. A viewer asked if I was okay. I said I was fine. I said it was an adventure.
But I wasn’t sure. I eventually found a small cafe. The owner was a young woman, maybe around my age. I asked if I could sit for a while, since my stream was struggling.
She said yes. I ordered a blueberry juice, and while she made it, I asked if I could interview her about being a business owner. She looked surprised. “You want to interview me?
”
“If you have time,” I said. “I like hearing stories from people who run their own places. ”
She agreed. She told me she’d opened the cafe recently, working from 9 AM to 8 PM every day.
I asked how old she was. “Twenty-two. ”
“Twenty-two? ” I couldn’t hide my surprise.
She looked older. Or maybe I was just bad at guessing. “You’re really young to run your own place. ”
She laughed.
“It was my dream since college. ”
I thanked her for the interview and paid for the juice. The chat was cheering me on, saying I was doing well despite everything. Someone pointed out that I’d forgotten my iPhone but remembered the charger.
I laughed at that too. It was true. I left the cafe and decided to head toward the market. That was the whole point of this trip.
I hadn’t come all this way just to sit in a cafe and sip juice. On the way, I passed by a woman on the street. I asked her for directions to the fish market. She pointed and told me to keep going.
I thanked her. The sun was hot. My shirt was sticking to my back. The chat said it was 49 degrees somewhere.
I didn’t ask. When I finally reached the market area, I saw the signs. The raw fish place was there, just like the man had said. I felt a little proud of myself.
I’d made it here without a map. Without my phone. Just by asking. I went inside and looked at the menu.
Squid sashimi. That was what I’d been craving. I ordered it, sat down, and took a bite. The chat was buzzing.
Some viewers were sending donations, small ones. I thanked them all. I told them I appreciated it more than they knew, because I couldn’t even see my own stream clearly on this fold phone. I told them I’d made a mistake, but I was making the best of it.
I said I’d come back to Gwangju properly next time, with my real phone, and show them everything I’d missed. I paid for my meal and said goodbye to the cafe owner, who was still busy with her work. I walked back toward the subway station, still holding my fold phone up, still streaming. It wasn’t the broadcast I’d planned.
It was worse in some ways, and better in others. I’d met people I wouldn’t have met if I’d just followed a map on my screen. I’d heard a story I wouldn’t have heard. But I’d also felt how fragile this whole thing was, how much I relied on that little device.
I told the chat I’d head to Busan tomorrow, maybe do it all over again. But first, I had to go home, grab my phone, and apologize to it for ever taking it for granted.