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September 14th, 2018

(꒪⌓꒪)

What the hell am I doing here? 

Mino must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes, the bus already got off the expressway into a mountain road surrounded by rice paddies. He and Seulgi were chatting intermittently about Mino current project, about Seulgi's relatives, about why she thinks that getting out of Seoul is groundbreaking when little by little, both of them fall victim to sleepiness. Mino looks at her open mouth with disdain because it was her fault, after all, she was the one who dragged him to Gurye out of nowhere. 

Mino was sitting on his stool this morning when Seulgi barged in to announce she's going away for the weekend. So suddenly? Mino asked. She need new materials for the next issue and that living in Seoul limited her scope. He was about to ask further when he toppled over from the lack of sleep. Startled, she caused a fuss. What are you, a kid? Seulgi nagged and continue pointing out the problems in the apartment, no food nutritious enough in the vicinity, no sign of Sehun, and finally, the fact that Mino had been awake for 40 hours straight working on a piece. 

"That's it," Seulgi said sternly with both of her hands on her hips. "You're coming with me."

In retrospect, Mino was glad she found him before he's dead but also in retrospect, he hates how she insisted for him to tag along. He could always refuse and cry like a baby but no Seulgi for the weekend also means no guarantee what he'll eat for the next three days other than the usual takeout. Mino is old enough to know which one is better. 

"Oi," Mino nudged her. No response. He starts to cover Seulgi's open mouth. After a few moments, she starts gasping for air. The ruckus caught the attention of the other passengers. It's a natural thing between them that Mino doesn't let her take a moment to recover and start firing question, "you sure this is the right way?" his thumb pointing outwards at the gravelly road with the outline of Jiri Mountain in the distance.

Seulgi craned her neck and continue inching forward to take a glimpse from the window. She squinted at the words emblazoned on the bus stop, it says Wolgye. "Yep. This is our stop." 

"You sure?" Mino knitted his eyebrows at the deserted bus stop. 

Seulgi gives him an annoyed look. "Have I made you lost before?"

"Well, you dragged me to hop on a train, then another local bus, you might as well take me to the DMZ."

"Which only proves you're stupid because we're in the south," she mocked. "Anyway, our final destination is just up there."

Mino's forehead is touching the window now, craning his neck to see the road Seulgi pointed at. "Are you saying your aunt's house is up there?"

"Yup!" 

He examined the uphill road and can already imagine how his knees will suffer. "And we walk from the bus stop?"

"It's less than 10 minutes,"

"You're not serious."

Seulgi rolled her eyes at him for being dramatic. As a kid, when spring arrives, her family always make time to visit her aunt at Sangwi Village to attend the Gurye Sansuyu festival. She loves making makgeolli under the yellow dogwood flower that blooms beautifully. How long has it been since I last visited? When I graduated high school? She keeps on wondering why she stopped doing it. Was she too busy with city life? Trying to make it big with her job? Whatever it is, she knew it's feeble.

Her thoughts got interrupted as the bus stops. When they got off, Mino feels the first wind of autumn whispering through the leaves. It's colder than expected even though the sun was now high in the sky. It's almost one in the afternoon. Up ahead, there's a fork in the road, and the off-the-beaten-path makes it so rural. Seulgi lead him to a small farming village. She makes a stop in front of a house with the red roof where a few houses down, a woman standing on a sweet potato farm raised a hand. Seulgi waved back immediately with glee. 

"I thought your aunt is visiting Ansan," Mino asked. 

"It's her neighbor. She lives next door for more than forty years, can you imagine?" 

Mino thinks this over while following behind Seulgi to step into the house. "Huh. Wouldn't see it in Seoul." He muttered as he follows Seulgi inside.

The house itself looks old and small, definitely the typical home in the countryside; long and straight with three rooms attached to each other with a narrow wooden porch and wooden-floored breezeway right in the middle. It also comes with a spacious garden filled with hand-grown vegetables. Inside, the house is overflowing with typical things found at a household in the 60s—the old fan, bowls and plates with fancy pattern, ratty cabinet—decorated most of the common room. As soon as Mino's touches the floor, he stretches like a cat. Watching him, make Seulgi yawned too.  

Mino scoots closer to the nearby futon stack, the sleepiness is catching up to him again, remembering that he hurt his neck throughout the bumpy bus ride. "I'm gonna take a nap," so that his alertness will improve and hopefully his creativity.

In seconds, he drifted to sleep, leaving Seulgi with no audience. Normally, she would forced him to stay as the silence sometimes can be unbearable. However, being in the countryside, silence, can actually feel peaceful. Taking in the scenery, she catches some parts in Gurye undergoing redevelopment program from the government. Who would've thought the stone walls of the houses were all gone near the train station, the old oak tree near the entrance of the village is now gone, some jerk probably bulldoze it, and now it's nothing but a stump. So, this is what it means being a lifestyle journalist, her mind says, always examining the surroundings and trying to make sense of it.

Focus, Seulgi, your editor wants you to be more emotionally involved in the article. This is your chance.

She closed her eyes, picturing the low hills before her that are lush with flowers, roads filled with pebbles. Her lungs inflates along with the mountain air she misses so much but when she opens her eyes, it looked bleaker than what she remembered. It was as if she's looking into any other small city. She couldn't wrap her mind around how civilised Gurye had become. It's not her hometown but she spent a generous amount as a kid and it definitely feel different. A strange feeling engulfed her, so far she travel often to the outskirts of Seoul and go to a famous destination like Jeju or Busan for a trip, over there it is expected to be crowded and lively, but when she came across a shopping center here, it stunned her how Gurye is trying so hard to fit the modern image of Korea. She understood that no hometown is untouchable to change, still it's such a shame. 

She quickly jotted it all down on her notebook, afraid her observation will be long forgotten. Satisfied with the little draft, she gathered her hair and put it into a ponytail. Remembering that she used to help her aunt with the garden, she saunters to the backyard not forgetting her pocket camera. As expected, her aunt is still meticulous when it comes to her vegetables. Everything is pretty much there for her to survive the next two days. Green onions, onions, potatoes, zucchinis, garlic, and so on. What's so fun about gardening? She used to wonder at her aunt. The satisfaction of eating the crops that my works yields are unparalleled, her aunt would answered. There must be a reason why Seulgi's mom can't beat her sister when it comes to cooking. Probably because her aunt cultivated her own garden and understood how food is supposed to be handled.

Why have I never implement a little gardening moment back in Seoul? 

Crouching down, she brushes her fingertips against the leek leaves and instantly feels a sense of relaxation. It's no joke, being this close with nature gives her access to sensory experiences she don't typically have in modern urban life. How she can just look out of focus without having to explain what she's feeling, how she can smell the flowers that will nurture her sense of intimacy. Every inch of Seulgi life have always feel mediated by the need to be occupied, which comes from the need to generate money. Back in the city, she would generally mash everything for lunch as long as it cost under ten dollars, then add it with another four dollars for transport; double that, and add the cost of bills and she have spent nearly one sixth of her salary just to see another day. She didn't enjoy the experience and it always feel like a crisis of pleasure; losing the ability to be present, to find delight in the ordinary moments or even pay attention to it. Every day she would just buoyed herself through the station and wait for the bus to get home based on muscle memory. It is apparent that she did not have the choice to do the things that she care about–making things, spending quality time alone, given little space, making her feel undernourished.

Why do people always lean towards the easy and convenient way of doing stuff? If she start to grow some vegetables on her own, she would save the cost, she would eat much more nutrious food, she would feel contempt. But why is she still so reliant on something instant even for her own food?

Because it's cheap and consistent, her mind says. Seulgi let out a sigh, looking upward at the blue sky with birds flying around. Instead of a clear blue sky, she will be greeted with a cloudless grey sky due to the population density back in Seoul. Instead of the calming sound of bird chirping, she would hear a delivery man yelling impatiently. Upon writing it on her notes, Seulgi notices a cloud of smoke from cooking fires curling into the sky. It must be her aunt's neighbor. 

It's best for me to say hello after a long time. 

Blinking back to life, Mino laid still, adjusting himself to the unfamiliar room. "Seulgi?" he says without moving an inch. No reply. He put himself into a sitting position and look towards the general direction of the yard, it's empty beside a couple of birds that flocked around. He peeked in every corner of the house, still no sign of her.

Huh, that's weird.

Scratching his belly, he slips on his sandals and walks towards the small pathway. Stifling a yawn, he walks uphill, just following wherever his feet take him, it'll probably lead to Seulgi in the end; no kidding he always managed to find her for some reason. 

Up ahead, he can hear the locals chattering about. The more steps he takes, the more he realizes the neighborhood is different in the evening. Everyone seems to pour into the street, the grown-ups start to gossip or play janggi, sitting in circle with their legs pulled up while the kids raised a ruckus playing red light green light. They all look like they led a life without a single worry with no concern about what tomorrow may bring. For them, maybe it is. Here, another day could mean another mundane activities; to plant seeds, to meet the kids next door, to gossip of a certain elderly who dyed their hair to look young. Everyone did say things move slower in the countryside, and the more Mino take a look at his surroundings the more he's not sure if its really up to his taste.

A nearby voice catch him just outside the sweet potato farm. He further peered to look at the house with the blue door. 

Maybe it's her?

Mino scoff at his own thoughts. Of course, it's her. He can pick out her voice in a crowd any given time. With the general assumption that countryside people supposedly much more nicer and warmer than their urban counterparts, he trudges forward until her voice starts to become clear. 

"You live alone?" A voice that is not Seulgi says. 

"Yeah,"

He can see Seulgi's shoulder being patted down by an old lady. "Aigoo, eating by yourself is not good for your health. Don't you have someone?" 

Seulgi laughs, and Mino can already picture how her eyes would vanish into a crescent moon shape completed with a crooked smile. "Ever since I become friends with him, eating doesn't feel so lonely anymore." 

That made him stop in his tracks and instinctively hide behind a small shack a couple feet away from the house. He debated whether to keep walking or wait around to hear the rest. The latter is more tempting. 

"Well," Seulgi continues. "I'm not the best cook, but every time Mino eat the food I made, he always finish it to the last grain. Since then, I started thinking that I should eat my food properly too. Eemo, don't worry, I'm living a comfortable life!"

Mino clicked on his tongue at her enthusiastic admission that is a complete lie. He witnessed her choosing sleep over dinner just to save money, to the point a cheapskate like him had run to buy her gimbap because she can't sleep with an empty stomach. Girl can be borderline crazy sometimes. But then again, she was never the kind of person who want other people to worry about her, no matter how worrying she is at times. 

"Mino?" 

The voice caught him off guard. "Huh?" He blinked at her innocently. 

"What are you doing here?"

Mino brushed his palm against the forearm. "I'm looking for you, it's almost dark." 

Seulgi looks up at the sky and murmur how the time flew by. She grab Mino's arm and drag him back towards the house. "The nice old lady gave me tons of side dishes. All kinds of kimchi," she says while holding out the Tupperware with a big smile.

Mino tries to match Seulgi's cheery step. "Come to think of it, the last thing I eat is the toast you forced on me this morning." 

"I know, that's why I'm going to make sujebi." 

While Seulgi make the dough by mixing flour with water, she asked Mino to grab the vegetables from the garden. There could be earthworm, he whined. It didn't work, because here he is plucking almost everything from zucchinis to potatoes. Once he returned to the kitchen, Seulgi is already putting the dough into the fridge, which honestly stood out the most. It's weird to think about it, how some of the stuff in the house already have a story of their own, their previous owner, how it could be a memento of a family, a stories Mino would like to know but doesn't have the talent to understand inanimate objects. He already picturing how much inspiration he can acquire just by studying these objects, the old radio setting up nicely atop of a cute small cabinet complete with a hand-knitted tapestry, the way it imbues some kind of warmth and nostalgic feeling.

But anyway, so much for romanticizing the house, back in the kitchen Seulgi is being unecessarily loud. Gone all the inspiration Mino trying to gather for the past few days.

"Anchovies and kelp," she mutters much to herself while rummaging the fridge, a loud thud follows as tupperwares came rushing down. Then, she crouches down at the small cabinet on the left, pulling out a couple of seasoning. 

Mino stood, letting his brain load for a moment. Judging by her actions, she's about to make the broth. Wanting to help, his eyes darted to every inch of the kitchen but did not found the most critical tool; a stove. 

Don't tell me—his head swiveled to the side that had the view of the front garden and found the thing he dreaded the most. A traditional stove can be seen complete with a cauldron on top of it. 

"Ya, Seulgi, do you know how to cook with that?" 

She shrugs. "It's just a bigger pot,"

"No, I mean, who's gonna make the fire?" He grunted. 

Seulgi give him a look. He look at her back. 

"No offense, but do I look like I know how to start a fire?" 

She turns her back on him, busy at choosing the best anchovies and gathering kelp. "The firewood is on the side, better stack up." 

"Be honest with me, do you bring me just for labor?" 

She pretends not to hear, which is a