My visit to Piagol Valley remains a heart-warming memory because of my good fortune in meeting you. There I was cursing my own absent-mindedness in forgetting to change into sneakers and there you were, three retired school principals out for a day’s walk. You invited me to join you for a picnic on the rocks of a partially dry stream near a footbridge. It was a modest and odd meal of sorts: persimmons, mandarins, grape juice and some local brew ( I think you said it was maekkolli) and cream cheese crackers as my own contribution.
I was impressed when you cleared away the remains of our picnic and even more so by the fast pace you kept up as we continued our walk, despite your claim to various health problems. Truth is, although you were older, you were much fitter and more sure-footed. I was sorry that I couldn’t match your stride and didn’t have the nerve to make the effort as I was more worried about slipping and twisting my ankle. So I turned back regretfully before I could reach Piagol Valley. Despite your encouragement and patience, I wasn’t prepared to impose on you and disgrace myself any further by holding you back with my city-slicker crawl.
One of you, Mr Lee, seemed to be the apparent leader of the group. Whether it was because of your seniority or position or because you were the driver for the day but you insisted on playing tour guide and suddenly I found myself bundled into your spacious car and off to visit Yeongoksa ( temple).
I tried to show my appreciation by paying more attention than I usually do to the relics and explanatory boards there. After that, you had to take a short siesta ( another exemplary and reaassuring thing I noted!) before you took to the wheel again while the rest of us could enjoy at leisure good views of one small section of Jirisan National Park.
I wasn’t sure when you decided that you were going to drive me back to the bus terminal at Gurye where I had left my bag before taking me to Hwaeomsa, my original destination for the day. Neither you nor your companions seemed to mind the detour the least bit – was it innate chivalry, a welcome opportunity to share and show off your hometown to a tourist or were you bored and enjoyed this diversion? It wasn’t exactly a short drive and you even pointed out to me casually the blue roof of your home which we passed on the way to Gurye. The lights of the afternoon sun reflected off the river on our left and I could see lone anglers here and there in the water, waiting patiently for their catch. I didn’t think though that their patience matched yours or perhaps patience is a local trait.
Anyway, I was a bit puzzled at first when you passed me your hat just before your car approached the ticket booth at the entrance to Hwaeomsa. Perhaps you didn’t want the hassle of pausing to pay the entrance fee for the tourist or if you just wanted me to enjoy the same privilege as the locals. But it was amusing, being part of this subterfuge as if we were school kids sneaking past the ticket booth of a cinema.
Again, you played tour guide at the temple before finally dropping me off at the tourist village just outside Hwaeomsa as the evening shadows lengthened. I think you even told the ajummas running a yeogwan to take care of me if I needed help. I bowed as deeply as I could without toppling over while repeating “Gamsa-hamnida” as you waved goodbye in a matter-of-fact way.
So once again, Chong-mal Gamsa-hamnida for a wonderful and memorable day. Even though I didn’t get to see the blood-red maples of Piagol, I consider myself lucky to have experienced your amazing hospitality.
Warmest wishes,
Ajumma
sources:
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Makkeolli
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