ABSTRACT
There was a raw, rough quality to Ulsan. In the downtown, crowds swirled along streets lined with shops filled with furniture, clothing, household goods — emblems of an industrial community that had expanded to more than 620,000 people in the past decade and was still growing. Along the banks of the Taehwa River, curling through the center of the city, children played, couples strolled and workmen hammered away at projects to beautify the esplanade. Traffic clogged the city center during the morning and evening rush hours, and bars, cabarets and discos, “room salons” and darkened coffee shops vibrated with the noises of jovial company men on expense accounts, Filipino singers belting out Top-40 recordings, sailors and contractors from a score of distant lands flirting with the bargirls, and teenagers engaging in cozy chitchat and laughter until the early hours.
