Hiraeth: A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

With a final tug at the calf's feet, Kwang Soo yanked it out. Tearing open the placenta encasing the calf, he cleared the nasal passage of blood and mucus, allowing the baby to breathe.

Taking off the protective, arm-length plastic sleeve he had worn to assist in the birth, he sat down by the haystack to recover, observing the little cow as it attempted to stand and take its first few steps on wobbly, ungainly legs. He smiled at their interaction, watching as the new mother sniffed and her calf, familiarising herself with her calf's unique scent, bonding with it.

The tender moment between mother and child moved him. For some reason, it made him think of Ji Hyo. He wondered if she would take up his offer to come down to visit him. Although he kept in frequent contact with her through emails and rare phone calls, he hadn't seen her in six years. Through the years, there was not a day that went by that he doesn't think of her and miss her. In the long years since he left Korea, he had never gone back. His heart yearned for his old home and grieved for the things that he lost and could never have.

Since leaving his home country, he had bettered himself. Learning many new skills and doing many things he never thought he would do. Six years ago, if someone had told him he would be elbow deep in the birth canal of a cow, assisting in a bovine birth, he would have laughed. But life had a funny way of throwing one a curveball, so here he was.

He had attempted to fulfil Ji Hyo's dreams of travelling the world. Everywhere he went, for every city he visited, he sent her a postcard. Describing in detail, the city he was in, the sights, the sounds and the smells. He knew it wouldn't be the same as having her with him and fulfiling her dream, but it was the best he could do. Given the circumstance.

Smiling wistfully, he recalled a memory of the very first time he sent her a postcard from Anchorage in Alaska.

Dearest noona,

Where does one begin? All kinds of adjectives come to mind to describe the Alaska that I experienced... Majestic, grand, regal, cold, wet, sunny, beautiful, ever changing, wild and awe-inspiring are just a few.

It is a place literally untouched by humans. No roads, no trails. Just wilderness for miles and miles. It excited me to know that such wilderness still exists in our world.

I found a friend who took me dog sledding. Now, close your eyes. Imagine this. You're sitting on a sled that's being pulled by some of Alaska's most powerful creatures. Speeding through an Alaskan forest, the smell of artic pine fills your nose. It is late autumn here, and the winds are cold. The dogs are running ahead and you can hear them panting, barking as the trees whiz by you. Passing by streams and rivers, you see them thick with salmon, migrating upstream to spawn and end their life cycle. A bittersweet ending to such a heroic journey.

Kayaking was also something that I enjoyed. It was thrilling kayaking through tidewater lagoons and ice filled glacier fiords with canyon walls so high and steep you could not see the top. The stillness of the icebergs as they floated by with the tides and the call of the artic terns that had flown all the way from Antarctica really moved me. The smell of the fresh air of the sea, the moist and mossy smell of the forest will be engrained in my mind forever.

Yours always,
Kwang Soo

He was shaken out of his reverie by someone calling his name.

“Kwang Soo! Hey, anybody home?”

Kwang Soo looked up to find Farmer Mills calling him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I was thinking about something.” 

“Judging by that goofy grin on your face... I'd say it's about a girl. THAT girl.” The old farmer teased the young man. Kwang Soo