YANGPYEONG FALL JOURNAL | WEEK 1

September 24 Entry

My poor wife heard me grumble this morning as I blurted out that I have done the worst job of packing my clothes for this trip. I’m not sure what I was thinking or whether I was thinking at all while packing. I packed too many pants, the wrong kind, too many shorts, all exercise shorts. My wife plainly told me, “I can see where your priority is.” Compared to Seoul, Yangpyeong’s daytime and nighttime temperature variances are significant. So the times I can wear shorts are during the day, and those days are disappearing fast as cooler weather will prevail soon. “I am not surprised since you packed the night before the trip,” said my wife without an ounce of judgment in her tone. I smiled and said, “Oh well.” At least, I brought enough “dressy” clothes for the occasion when I will be speaking at a conference. I can grumble with the best of them but one of my saving personality devices is that I can quickly switch gears to look at the cup half full. I will have to rely on that positive outlook for the rest of the trip.

The first thing we did this morning upon waking was to take a walk along the river and rice fields. Speaking of priority, I was not going to miss the ritual of my morning walk in Yangpyeong, as I imagined and rehearsed this walk many times before coming back. The morning temperature was in the low 50s, nippy for my Southern California trained body to wear any of the shorts I brought with me. It was perfect sweatpants weather. We had to walk fast because it was cold, especially in the shaded areas. One of the flaws of the current house is that it does not get enough sunlight, as the house faces north. The host told us that during winter, the house gets colder than other south-facing houses. After we walked for about 10 minutes, the inordinately bright sun greeted us with a warm good morning. I could almost hear the sun saying, “짜잔”(Jja jan), which can be translated as "ta-da!" Until then, the sun was still hiding behind the mountain. I suppose the sun wanted to make a grand enough entrance to remind us of what we have been missing. 

As our bodies were getting warmed by hurried steps, I noticed right away rows of wild cosmos flowers, from white to light pink to light fuchsia to light purple to hot red, along the riverbeds, and by the rice fields. Unlike the spring or summer times, where many flowers compete for the throne of our hearts, in the fall, the cosmos has no real competition. They get to be the queen of fall flowers. They certainly got my attention. The stems are so slender and fragile looking, provoking me to provide protection. The proportion of the flower petals to the slim stems looks a bit out of place like a large donut-shaped head attached to a small slender body. And yet, the flowers stand tall and shoot straight up, similar to sunflowers. (I found out later that cosmos plants are part of the sunflower family.) As the sun greets them, they greet back, as if to talk in some secret language. They all look like they are smiling even when they know their autumn act will end soon. 

We saw more people during this morning’s walk than at any other time in the spring. Since my wife and I were walking together, a number of people exchanged greetings with us. I made the observation that many were saying hellos this time. She curtly said that perhaps they were not afraid of saying hello since I was not walking alone. I nodded since I know I can look scary and intimidating with my strange hairstyle and occasionally with my sunglasses and buff head coverings on. Anyhow, it was good to be noticed and to exchange hellos. Connections with people and strangers, as light and casual as the greetings are, are always good for my heart. 

I was just as eager and anxious to go to Kwak Ji Won Bakery near Dulmulmeori where we frequented during our spring stay. We got to know the chief baker as well as the master baker who started a baking academy, along with multiple bakeries through his disciples. That was one of the serendipitous and unexpected highlights earlier in the year. The last time we saw them, we heard that the master baker’s wife, who is also a renowned baker and cake maker and has won several awards, was diagnosed with stomach cancer and was in need of surgery. We had told her we would pray for her and exchanged hope and goodwill. As such, we were eager to find out how the surgery went and how she was doing. We also brought a small gift with us, a small statue of a healing angel, to plant messages of healing and hope. 

After we arrived at the bakery, we were doing our rituals of reading and writing. As my wife was coming back from her restroom visit, I overheard my wife’s excited voice (she does not get excited much) from a distance. Seconds later, she called me to come. There she was, the master baker’s wife, standing before us. Her countenance told us she was well. She remembered us as we asked her how the surgery went. She said the surgery went really well and that she was doing well. As she was sharing, she was holding my wife’s hands with teary eyes. We told her we were very happy to hear the news. She had her perm fixtures on her hair as she was getting ready to go to a function. She said, “I did not lose my hair, so I am able to fix my hair as I like.” Small but significant joy and dignity of life. 

That made my day, enough to feast on my day with goodness and surprises.