FOLLOWING AN UNEXPECTED TRAIL | PART 2.1

The afterglow from last night was still sparkling. Driving home from Kwak Jiwon Bakery after my book concert, my wife and I were speechless for an entire duration. The words, had we uttered, would have felt too cheap and shallow. The silence was the only big enough container to hold what I can best describe as one of the most enchanting experiences of my life. This was one of my dreams come true—to hold a book concert at this bakery. (To read the backstory, you can refer to Following an Unexpected Trail posted on May 9.) Earlier, my wife asked me while driving to the concert, “How do you feel?” I said, “Nothing.” I had just come back from a large missions leadership gathering that consumed me for the last 3 days. (This particular gathering was also full of surprises and connections, but that will have to be told later.) I only had a couple of hours to take a deep breath and shower and we were on our way to the bakery. I wanted to make sure we get there a little early to help if need be. The concert was to start at 6:30 pm so we arrived a bit before 6 pm.

When we entered the bakery, I felt light and free, and I could feel the hospitable spirit in the air. Chef Lee who had agreed to host my book concert was focused on getting the snacks ready as the space already breathed warmth and friendliness, but she was not in a hurry. I imagined her floating around, not running around. She had her signature large, brimmed straw fedora hat on with a green loose body suit with her fully-bodied white baker apron on. She donned a well-worn Nike board shoe. Her smile was constant and infectious. The bakery had the charm of the rustic French countryside with its large farm table flushed to one side of the wall with several small wooden tables on a creaky wood floor. Green wall plant covered one side of the wall while the striped cloth awning covered three-quarters of the ceiling, exposing a portion to welcome the free sky. Toward the kitchen side, the wall was painted in the same turquoise color as the outside of the building and a small cute window connected the store. After the sunset, the lighting accentuated and imbued hospitality adding to what was already warm and welcoming.

There were already two people waiting. One of the two was Chef Lee’s friends who we met at the bakery movie night about a year ago. The other was none other than Lee Eun Kyung, an artist. She stood up to greet us with a big genuine smile, matching her bright yellow shirt reminiscent of the seasonal Cosmic Yellow. We returned also with big ear-to-ear smiles. I did regret for a split second why I wore a black shirt with dark blue jeans. An angel on my shoulder whispered something like I should have worn something brighter in a non-judgmental tone, but I brushed it away as fast as the thought came to me. After my short inner conversation was over, the next thing I noticed was the worn book of mine in her hand. She coyly showed me the book which was underlined all over the place with her notes, not to mention her spontaneous artist’s renderings and inspirations. I was so humbled that I did not know what to do except to just stand with my two hands gently folded in front of me. She told us that she would like to borrow a phrase from my book as her theme in the upcoming exhibit next spring. I told her, “Of course, it’d be my honor.”

Others started trickling in. As we were driving in, I told my wife that I had a feeling that I would see Master Chef Kwak Jiwon and his wife, also a master Chef. Sure enough, he and his wife walked in. I was shocked when I saw him and did one of those double takes on him. His attire was almost playful and gave me peace of mind. I let out a sigh of relief. It was so him! He was wearing a sleeveless black muscle shirt. (Did I tell you he works out several hours a day, every day?) He turned 70 this year, and he has the biceps and triceps of a 30-year-old. At least, he was wearing long pants tonight, someone else shouted across the room. His response was that he had to show his social position. We all heartily laughed, adding to the warmth and friendliness. Among the guests were one man publisher, the director of a large orphanage nearby, a church elder who runs a glamping facility in the next town over, etc.

Chef Lee took orders for the drinks and prepared slices of her famous assorted slices of bread for guests. The place was tastefully decorated, not over or under. As I was desperately trying to wake up from my dream that was unfolding right in front of me, it was time to begin. Chef Lee welcomed, greeted, presented me with a bouquet of flowers, and chronicled how this event came to be.

When she took over as the main chef and owner a couple of years ago, she had just spent lots of money and time decorating the backspace which had been dormant for many years. Her vision and hope were for people to appreciate and utilize the space. Her words were that we showed up right around that time and she witnessed us utilizing the space as she envisioned: reading, writing, and enjoying the space by simply hanging out. She appreciated our presence to the point that she took a picture of us from the second balcony window unbeknownst to us. On our way out (from our first visit), she talked with us, complete strangers, and asked us to come to the premiere movie night. It was this serendipitous encounter from a year ago that eventually led to the book concert, she shared.

She introduced me and I gave a longer background story of the first encounter with the bakery and Chef Lee, who I am, and why I wrote the book. It was 7 pm by then, and Chef Lee promptly closed the bakery. We were just getting started.