The First Chuseok, and My Own Ajumoni

Today is Chuseok holiday! For Koreans, this celebration is the equivalent of an American Thanksgiving in many ways. For three days, people travel back to their homes in the country, leaving the city and all of the trappings of metropolitan life behind. They give thanks for the harvest moon and the plentiful crop that allows them to enjoy this holiday with traditional feasting. In the city, there are festivals and activities that people can share together. But unlike the States, Koreans also celebrate Chuseok to honor their ancestors with traditional ceremonies. Both the old and young come together to visit and provide care to the graves of their ancestors. It’s a time of remembrance, and the solitude over the city is at times tangible.
As a special gift, the university, together with Nuri Hall, provided its students with a traditional Chuseok gift, called Songpyeon. As you can see, they are crescent-shaped little glutinous rice cakes. Inside of these, you will normally find some kind of savory filling - mine had something like peanut-butter, it may have been chestnut paste but I’m not sure. Anyway, the little crescents are steamed over a layer of pine needles and then given as gifts during the holiday.


It makes me sad to be here during a holiday and not be able to celebrate with my family. I went to Gapcheon river yesterday to study and take my mind away from being homesick. I’ve been thinking about my family a lot lately, since baby nephew Preston is due today, and the lonely feeling is beginning to set in. What is a beautiful moment at the river, and the wind blowing the clouds across the sky, without someone to share it with? And suddenly...I had a new friend! My very own ajumoni! A beautiful Korean woman on a bike slowed down next to me, and to my complete shock, said, “ah, hello! Are you a student here?” I was completely caught off guard, and so I answered using the best broken English I could. “Yes, student.” Fortunately, she speaks English very well, and was very interested in having a good conversation at length. If there’s one thing I know, Koreans love to take their time with conversation. I’m coming to realize, to my satisfaction, that patience is not just a virtue here, it’s a way of life. My ajumoni wanted to know everything about me, and in turn, expressed many of her own wishes and opinions. She graduated from the top university in Seoul many years ago with a bachelor’s degree. She then went on to work for Daewoo for 5 years in accounting, until she decided to start a family. She has two sons; both are very dedicated to their education, and therefore live on campus at their respective institutions. With both sons away, she tells me, “I have empty bird’s nest syndrome.” And so we have become instant friends, maybe more out of necessity than anything else. I can’t wait to visit her home, just a few minutes’ walk from Nuri hall. She has promised to teach me all things Korean, including how to prepare and make Kimchee, speak Korean, and anything else I want to know. In turn, I have agreed to meet her every Sunday evening at the river for a little exercise.
I know what you all must be thinking, right? Someone is looking out for me? Well, maybe they are. All my love….