The Chronicles of the Northern Kimchi 1 of ~

It really didn't feel like going to another country. I never considered North Korea as symbolically severed form the South, though geopolitically speaking, they are. The two Koreas were divided by a truce line called the 38th parellel after a ceasefire was declared by all the involved parties. After this line was drawn, the peninsula has never been the same again: lives were erased, families were separated, in the North, tyranny and poverty set in. Today is a very momentous day because I am crossing that line, a product of the human mind that does not imagine better. In my heart, there was a mixture of fear and joy, hope and despair for all that this line has cut through.

We rode the bus at around 9am and went northwards. It was a very long drive. But the seats in the tour bus were so comfortable that I really didn't mind siting for hours. The view was unspeakably magnificent for it was Summer. The hills and mountain ranges were green with life, farming areas teeming with ginseng and other growths, condominiums sparsely dotting the landscape. We're divorcing form the city, I thought. After about 2 hours of wheeling continuously, I thought I should get some sleep. But my brain's sentimental hemisphere nags at me to look outside the bus' window because it knows that I won't see the landscape again the same way as it is now. I guess the reason was well-founded so I resisted the urge to close my eyes. However, these days, try as I may to recall what were seen, all that appears is a whipped-up imagery of greens and browns and the monotonous grayness of the road; the beauty wasn't preserved at all in my head. I should have just gone to sleep. As I always say, my mind is so fragile as to keep the subtleties of nature, friendship, and virtually all other things, intact for a reminiscence anytime.

to be continued~~

1st Fragment: The Stasis Forms (Korea Chronicles #1)

My most dreaded day has come. I am about to leave for Korea. That night, I borrowed a weighing scale from my neighbor who sells rice and vegetables. This time, however, it is not the rice nor the vegetables that will be weighed—it would be my clothes. Two of my closest friends Ej and Jabez, whose houses are 2 hours away from mine went that night to help me pack my stuff. It felt the real essence of farewell when I saw them folding and compressing my clothes, praying that my luggage would just weigh all right. As they are graduating this month (March), we spent our last few hours together watching TV, reminiscing college life in UPLB, in the Purple Room (Jabez' dorm unit where we usually hang out). I also fixed Ej's PC for I was their only technician who never asks for fees. Everything that night was not at all an emotional experience for me--perhaps not yet. The atmosphere was such in a state of ambiguity-- that one second I felt like I'm leaving and then in another second I felt that it's just like any ordinary night for me and my family. If there's anything sure, it would be that it was the longest moment in my life. The Waiting. It is the time of my life where I felt that the past, present and future all converge into one uberly cramped time frame. It was a deluge of stimuli of what I had been, what I am now, and what I'm going to be and what will it be in Korea. Agony, excitement, assurance, anxiety, anticipation were all mixed in my head and it's definitely disorienting.
Time to rest. Tomorrow will be the beginning of something really special. It was around 3am that we all slept... Looking at the clock, fixing my eyes on every second that passes by, knowing that I would spend 10 months in a different time zone...the thought made me all the more more jittery. I fell asleep on my bed for the last time. I prayed a lot, close to sweating blood. Next night I’d be in the Land of Kimchi--unseasoned, perhaps a bit bland, but will get savory as each day begins and ends.

The Beginning of the Start (Kimchi Pot Chronicles Prologue)

I hated number 4. And I have the Chinese Feng Shui to blame for that. It says it means death and illness. But it was just now when I'm writing this blog entry that I came to realize that the day my life has changed--where my real self was rubbed out of the cramped, imprisoning lamp--was 4-14, March 14, 2007.
Not everyone would be celebrating March 14, 2007. For me, it is the highlight of my life so far. And it would be harbored in my dear hypothalamus for many years to come. 4-14 was the day I flew to Korea to study in DJU as an exchange student. I never thought that my 10-month experience there would be so life changing, as it was so much fun beyond all the betraying adjectives man know of.
From this point on, I'll backtrack from the point when I was packing all my stuff, emptying my drawer, watching movies for the last time with my best friends...yeah, I'll try to recollect all the memories before all my neural connections snap off.