i rescue old coronado in gimhae. he looks dusty and melancholic. i push him up the hill to a daelim repair shop. the mechanic is just coming back from his lunch break. he has a tiny paper cup with sugary coffee in one hand. he asks me what the problem is. carburetor. he tells me they don’t make carburetors for my scooter model anymore. he motions with his hand to follow him. we go out to the yard next to his shop. he points to two scooters like mine propped against a wall. they look dusty and sad. the mechanic makes the throat slash sign. is die. he takes a sip of his coffee. i’ll look around for a second opinion.
a few blocks up the hill i find another daelim mechanic. he tells me he doesn’t have a carburetor either but he opens up coronado to investigate. he tells me the problem may be simpler… and more embarrassing. he is very kind and lets me go without charge.
i drive coronado up the hill to explore gaya land, an abandoned amusement park in the outskirts of gimhae. i park my scooter and scout the area. there are yellow flowers, older women picking vegetables in a community garden, stylized kimchi pots, and a dead animal that’s been blackened by the sun for weeks. in the distance i see gimhae and the floodplain of the nakdonggang. further southeast hundreds of white apartment buildings at the foothills of the mountainous spine of busan.
nestled in the green hills in front of me, sticking out of the thicket like a ceremonial mesoamerican structure built in honor of the sun-god, a bone-colored ferris wheel. i follow a deteriorated road covered by trees. i cross a small bridge and squeeze myself past some barricades. soon i reach the gates of gaya land. i take a few pictures but i notice i only have 10 pictures left on my sd card. i look through the card to delete the photos i don’t need. that’s when i hear the dogs barking. i look up and above the entrance steps i see them. they look pissed off. i turn around and start walking away. i hear a metal pipe falling near by. i assume somebody must have thrown it in my direction, some sort of squatting dokkebi or a cranky old guard. i shall return, gaya land.