The Beginning of a Second Year

Wat Chara, me, Sukit, Kop, Ta Nom, Nikom,

We just celebrated Chuseok here in Korean–the biggest Korean holiday. Well, I didn’t actually celebrate Chuseok, I celebrated Koreans celebrating Chuseok. For an entire week it was actually quiet and peaceful while people made food (mostly women), spent time with their families and visited the graves of their ancestors. During my week off from school, I traveled to Seoul to see Cynthia and Marty for a portion of the time and spent the rest in my little town of Okgwa.

Okgwa has opened herself up to me slowly, in much the same way that Vermillion and South Dakota did. Some places are not immediately accessible to us, nor is their beauty apparent. They are guarded and surprise us when we least expect it. There were times, while living in Vermillion, that I remember thinking that I lived in the most beautiful place on earth precisely for this reason. These moments happened most often driving east at dusk on South Dakota back roads and highways. There is a very special vastness of sky and light that instead of truncating your existence makes you grow as large as it. For so long while living here in Korea, I would look into the landscape and think “this place could be beautiful, but it just isn’t to me.” My life has changed so much and my eyes too.

The most significant change occurred when I was able to show my town to visitors and to cook for them. Nichola, another English teacher from Ireland, was the first to visit.  With her companionship, I was able to explore the nightlife of Okgwa. There is a techincal college here and many young people I had not met. She loved Okgwa and through her eyes, I began to sense the place differently. Cynthia was next and during her visit an entirely surprising event took place when we, one evening, filled two mugs with wine and took a walk. I discovered that evening the existence of over 30 Thai workers in my little town. I just celebrated 2 months of knowing them.

You could draw a comparison between the inaccessible beauty of a Vermillion landscape vs. the immediately recognizable beauty of northern California and the guarded character  of Koreans  vs. the open and loving character of the Thai. That somehow one influences the other, that warmer climates and beautiful scenery produce relaxed and happy people. And you could say that meeting my Thai friends helped me to recognize what was previously not apparent to me. Or perhaps I became more settled into myself, more whole, more grounded, and more open after meeting them and the Koreans simply reflected myself back to me. I don’t know exactly; I know only that my life and my attitude is vastly changed, though I had made the decision to sign on for another year even before meeting them. A decision I congratulate myself on regularly.

Although I find Asian crude in many ways, they posses a certain refinement that is deeply, deeply rooted; a refinement that we westerners could really learn from. One of the things I enjoy about Asians is their understanding of food. One thing that Koreans share with Thai people (and Japanese for sure, though I have personal experiences to draw from) is the ceremony of food and the in-taking of nourishment not only for the body, but also the soul. I am sure that many of them are not even cognizant of this knowledge, of its science, because they simply live this knowledge, eating the way their ancestors have since the beginning.  Sharing food is an activity I greatly enjoy with my Thai friends. Every meal takes lengthy preparation and is a celebration. It occupies much of their “off” time. A few of the guys are the designated fishermen. They bring back the loot and the others busy themselves with the preparation. Because they have no access to a shared kitchen, they use the space outside their apartment house, sometimes making an open fire and cooking there, but most often using the propane stoves common in most Korean households (though indoors they are fueled by gas).

The dishes (and there are many) are placed in the center of a low-lying platform and we all sit around, bare-footed eating from the same bowls and dishes using our hands mostly. Time is taken. It seems that 5 minutes passes between bites for them. I am often shy, taking note of the their ways and when too much time has passed between bites for me, Wat Chara feeds me from his hand. There is much conversation and laughter. And the FOOD! There is not a cuisine I enjoy more than Thai–lemon grass, and lime leaves, galangal etc. are all purchased from a truck that passes through Okgwa a few days after pay day for them, or sometimes these items are sent from home, but they do not go without. One of the first things they asked me was “do you like Korean food?” And though there are some things I do enjoy, mostly I am with them on this point.

One year anniversary dinner with Pilson and his friend.

I find myself comparing the pleasure of eating and drinking with my Thai friends outside on the ground when I go out with friends to swanky over-priced bars and restaurants, and frankly, nothing beats this experience. The other night when Pilson ate all three of the prawns we got with our massive spread, I couldn’t help but think “that would never happen in the presence of my Thai friends,” because everything is divided and shared and most often they want to give the very best away. It’s like that with people who have so little and it endears them to me in so many ways.