YANGPYEONG FALL JOURNAL | FINAL
October 25 Entry
I have been café hopping with great enthusiasm and curiosity. Also with a purpose, a purpose to read, reflect, and write most days. Thankfully, Yangpyeong area is known for enthusiastic café hoppers. On the weekends, cafés are filled with city folks from Seoul wanting to get away and take in the fresh air, the beauty, and now autumn colors.
Once upon a time, getting a good cup of coffee was a challenge in Korea. So I somewhat begrudgingly visited Starbucks in Korea where Americanos were at least consistent to the taste I was familiar with. Now, I could pop into a random café and expect a good cup. Here at Yangpyeong, I have tried to avoid franchise run cafés and have favored frequenting small neighborhood cafés.
As an extrovert, I like to be surrounded by people. Apart from a few impulsive conversation starters I initiate with strangers (Koreans are generally more startled by a stranger initiating small talks with them), I usually remain quiet and keep my mouth shut. I soak in and channel the energy and stimulation around me like some weird superhero. I realize my energy shifts over time based on the environment and people around me. This morning, I am sitting by two people who are talking loudly not only to one another but also over their phones and are hopelessly oblivious. I am thinking whether I should find seating outside (where it is still in the 40s) and avoid the noise. I decided to stay for warmth and wear my Airpods Pro (thank God) but I am still perturbed. At the same time, one of my Spotify playlist songs unexpectedly moves me to tears and it is promptly on a repeated loop to figure out why.
Not all café scenes and external sensory stimulation are the same. I have learned that I prefer cushioned seats for my aging butt, the table at the right height to read and type, the lights bright and preferably natural sunlight, and open indoor or outdoor seating either facing the people and/or the scenery. As such, the two cafés that have become “right” for me and thus have become my office are Café Nine Block in the mornings and Café Osirok in the afternoons. In both cafés, the baristas know me now and prepare hot Americano with room in a mug. Café Nine Block is ideal in the mornings especially when the sun is out because of its floor to ceiling foldable windows that open up to the mountains, stream, and trees. It triggers me to say one more “Good morning” after my walk. Café Osirok sits right by a narrow U-shaped country road which forces cars to slow down, deeper into the mountain and away from the town center. Across the road is a vibrant and clear stream, while the café is perfectly positioned to monopolize the sunlight. The café features lots of seasonal flowers and eclectic furniture, including a couple of swing chairs outside, and decorations that somehow all blend in with our eyes satiated. It even has an inviting outdoor fireplace, further wooing the passing cars and a few hammocks on the rooftop for those who have time to take a nap.
One other reason for café hopping is that if I stay home, I constantly see things that call my name even though I am not home home (in Pasadena). I know external changes are good for my soul as changes stimulate untapped interior thoughts and reflections. External sensory stimulation leads to interior concentration for me. Café atmosphere keeps the busy and happy sensory part of me engaged while concentration gets quieter and deepens. It’s an odd contradiction. I once read that Mozart had his wife read stories out loud to him while he composed.
In this vein, I get the café scene in Paris. When I get a chance to revisit Taizé community in France, I would love to sit in one of those ubiquitous street facing cafés in Paris while sipping espresso, engage in serious people watching, and read and write for hours. France is fresh in my mind since my wife and I watched At Eternity’s Gate last night while we were at a coin laundry, drying our clothes. At Eternity’s Gate is an ethereal and a visionary movie about Vincent Van Gogh’s final years, starring Willem Dafoe as believable Van Gogh. I was reminded of Thomas Merton’s words, “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” Van Gogh remains a supreme example of a person who has found and lost himself in the art at the same time. As the movie portrays, Van Gogh found God in him because he realized God gave him the talent and vision for him to gift the world through his painting. In the movie, Dr. Paul Gachet surmises, “Maybe what you (Van Gogh) are saying is that your gift to the world is painting.” To which Van Gogh replied, “If not, what good is an artist?” Van Gogh knew that his “art was not an end in itself.” His art awakened him “into a higher spiritual order,” the Giver of gifts. Van Gogh found and lost himself in the “mission” of God in himself.
But I refuse to diss the Yangpyeong scene for the Paris scene. At least not yet. . . Yangpyeong’s café scene has done more than enough to stimulate and to concentrate, hopefully on my way to both find and lose myself.