By Yi Woo-won
There were times in the past, when I missed sorely those homes where I had lived, wondering if they were still there and how they would look now. Then one day in spring, decades ago, I felt a pang of nostalgia for them and set out impulsively to revisit them. My mind was racing back into the distant past, endeavoring to recall hazy memories of my childhood. Until I moved to my present residence in Waegwan 1962, I had lived within the city limits of Daegu since birth, where I attended all levels of school from elementary school to college.
I wanted to track down those old homes chronologically, starting with the earliest residence in Daeshin-dong where I lived from birth until elementary school. My old village was easy to locate because it was just a block away from Seomun Market, one of the
most historic and legendary markets of Korea. The market was still there thriving, but neither my sweet old home nor the village was there anymore. The footprints of my childhood had been mercilessly obliterated in the wake of mass urbanization.
I was able to find the area of the next old home effortlessly. I could see in the distance the steeple of the church, the landmark of my former village. The stately church building, a charming attraction of my neighborhood, was there, but somehow it seemed a bit smaller and less impressive now. Also, I missed now the calm, peaceful and relaxed ambience I admired before. Then, I realized this was because the quiet residential community had now turned into a commercial town, bustling with merchants and shoppers.
I was sure my old home should be in one of the alleys with a dead end. To my good surprise, the alley hadn't changed much over half a century. When I walked down the little alley, looking at those familiar houses, suddenly all the memories of my boyhood and forgotten friends came flooding back. My sweet old home was still there. Although bleached and weather-beaten, the tall wooden front gate still looked imposing with its large iron door-rings. Without looking inside, I could tell it was my proud home, a large traditional house with a tiled roof. We had two inner gates, one leading to an extension building and the other to the garden with pine trees and a fish pond. I assumed my father, a construction contractor, was fairly affluent in those years.
Now, I had one last home to look for. It was the home that I missed most and I wanted to see it so eagerly. I was attending high school, so I was mature emotionally and deeply attached to my home. We used to live in one of the two alleys off the main street a few blocks away from the previous residence. However, my declining memory now couldn't remember which one, so I had to search for my old home in both alleys. Strangely enough and impossibly, I didn't come across any houses that looked familiar to me. Many of the houses now looked so shabby and rundown. Some of them seemed uninhabited. I racked my brain, trying to recall the foggy image of my old home, then walked back into the first alley.
Just as I had expected, I found my sweet little old home in the first alley. Although it was painfully dilapidated and overgrown with weeds, it was a precious reminder of my high school days. There was my little room with its sliding door across the yard. It was my bedroom and my study where I crammed for the college examination, dreaming to be a lawyer, a doctor or a diplomat. I was often in conflict with my father who wanted me to be a banker. My father was getting old and his construction business was on the wane.
I couldn't forget that afternoon in spring when I was a junior in high school. For the first time in my school life, I played truant. I slipped out of my class like a sleepwalker and later I found myself wandering in the mountains. I was holding in my hand the Japanese version of "The Collected Poems of Hermann Hesse."
Yi Woo-won (yiwoowon1988@gmail.com) lives in Waegwan, North Gyeongsang Province and has been writing since 1986.
Revisiting old homes, reminiscing about past
16
0
09.04.2023
By Yi Woo-won
There were times in the past, when I missed sorely those homes where I had lived, wondering if they were still there and how they would look now. Then one day in spring, decades ago, I felt a pang of nostalgia for them and set out impulsively to revisit them. My mind was racing back into the distant past, endeavoring to recall hazy memories of my childhood. Until I moved to my present residence in Waegwan 1962, I had lived within the city limits of Daegu since birth, where I attended all levels of school from elementary school to college.
I wanted to track down those old homes chronologically, starting with the earliest residence in Daeshin-dong where I lived from birth until elementary school. My old village was easy to locate because it was just a block away from Seomun Market, one of the most historic and legendary markets of Korea. The market was still there thriving, but neither my sweet old home nor the village was there anymore. The footprints of my........
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