seoul

it's been a good 10 years since i was last in seoul. we lived like locals for a day, hopping on and off buses and walking through alleys, past trishaws and into shophouses. we came across an old wooden eating house, with faded signboards in unfamiliar lines and shapes of korean characters. a large group of ajimas were seated inside with their legs crossed, on a long, low table. amidst their excited chatter, a hundred silver bowls of banchan gleamed before them, with different cuts and colours of meat, sizzling and dancing on the hot grill. we took off our shoes, lay down our seating mats and realised that no one, apart from us, spoke english. we struggled with what little korean words we knew. it was beautiful that we could still be understood, that their smiles were still kind, their gestures not any less gentle. i watched them eat. they wrapped every mouthful of rice with a piece of seaweed, and every piece of meat in lettuce and kimchi. they drank glasses of shoju, and they very skilfully picked up grains of rice with their thin, flat metal chopsticks. one of the ajimas turned to me as i sat down and started to undo an apron from around her waist. she nodded at the way my blouse rode up my back, and then she wrapped it around my own waist, covering my skin with her kindness. i am undoubtedly blessed to witness love and graciousness blossoming in every culture all over the world.