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GUEST LITERATURE – KOREA ward me when we stopped briefly at a crossing. “My eldest aunt died last week.” I said: “Oh, is that so?” but she laughed dryly, a short gust of breath escaping from her closed lips. I thought it was strange that she would say an elder relative had died and then laugh like that.When the light changed, she stepped out into the crossing, mumbling as if to herself. I couldn’t hear her clearly, but it sounded like she said something was odd, or something like that. I looked around, but there was nothing odd. If anything was odd, it was her.Why would she laugh when her eldest aunt had died? Then again, she often used to do things that I found strange. The bar she led me to was really narrow and long like a train. I was surprised that we needed to reserve a table at such a shabby, secluded bar. There were only four tables in single file on the left and an open space along the right wall that was just wide enough for a person to pass through. Opposite the entrance, at the head of the train, was the kitchen. In the left wall next to our seats at the third table, there was a small glass window, but it was a window in name only, being only a square piece of glass stuck in the wall that didn’t slide or push open. Outside was a small car park. In the dark beyond the glass, I could see a few hunched over cars and the faint light of the car park office. “Give us half pork, half seafood, please.” The young-looking waitress blinked rapidly at her request. “Half and half? Half and half what?” She seemed to have trouble understanding Korean. “Half of this and half of that,” my friend said, pointing at each item on the menu posted on the wall. The waitress stared at a corner of the stained ceiling above the menu. The expression on her face was tortured as if she were doing some complex calculation. Just then, a woman who looked like the owner rushed out of the kitchen. In three seconds, my friend reached an agreement with the owner to pay 25,000 won for a combination of pork stir fry and seafood stir fry. “I ordered whatever I wanted . . .That’s okay, isn’t it?” I said it was fine.To tell the truth, I didn’t really like frozen ingredients stir-fried briefly in a red, spicy sauce, but I didn’t care either way when it came to bar food, so I didn’t object. She lowered her voice and muttered: “This place is great, but they 194 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES
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KWON YEO-SUN keep changing the staff. Every time I come here I order this combination, but if I get stuck with a waiter who doesn’t understand me I have to start all over again, so I never feel like I’ve made any progress.” “You seem to have gained quite a bit of skill in ordering, though.” “I guess so. It does seem that I spend less time arguing back and forth now.” “You must come here often.” “Not really. It’s too expensive.” She seemed to have changed a little, and she was becoming a little unfamiliar to me. All the side dishes in the bar were 20,000 won. You could say that was on the expensive side compared to the way the place looked, but it was still only 20,000 won. For an extra 5,000 won, she had ordered a combination of two different 20,000 won dishes, just the way she had always done it. We had spent a lot of time together in our late twenties. We got together two or three times a week at most, and we saw each other at least once or twice a month. I don’t remember ever arranging a meeting in advance. We did the same type of work, and so we ran into each other often and became close, thanks to our similar tastes and styles.We stopped getting together when she changed jobs. I had just begun seeing someone else at that point, so I never made any attempt to contact her. The fact that she had developed a sense of economy, the fact that she ordered what she preferred, perhaps these were the parts of her that had changed? I don’t know. Judging by her attire, it was clear that she had become more modest than she used to be. Back then, even if she didn’t wear a necklace or ring, she loved to go around wearing unusual earrings, but on that day she wasn’t wearing a single piece of jewellery. I didn’t want to fall back on the prejudiced idea that frugality was a result of poverty. But the fact that she ordered what she preferred, that was something to think about. It could mean that she had suddenly become a gourmet, or it could be because her concern for others had diminished. It could also mean, though I didn’t really want to consider this possibility, that she had so little opportunity to eat what she wanted these days that she had to satisfy her appetite when she had the chance. If that were the case, what could that mean when coupled with her surprising new frugality? Wouldn’t that mean that she had become poor, not only in material BANIPAL 43 – SPRING 2012 195

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GUEST LITERATURE – KOREA

ward me when we stopped briefly at a crossing.

“My eldest aunt died last week.” I said: “Oh, is that so?” but she laughed dryly, a short gust of breath escaping from her closed lips. I thought it was strange that she would say an elder relative had died and then laugh like that.When the light changed, she stepped out into the crossing, mumbling as if to herself. I couldn’t hear her clearly, but it sounded like she said something was odd, or something like that. I looked around, but there was nothing odd. If anything was odd, it was her.Why would she laugh when her eldest aunt had died? Then again, she often used to do things that I found strange.

The bar she led me to was really narrow and long like a train. I was surprised that we needed to reserve a table at such a shabby, secluded bar. There were only four tables in single file on the left and an open space along the right wall that was just wide enough for a person to pass through. Opposite the entrance, at the head of the train, was the kitchen. In the left wall next to our seats at the third table, there was a small glass window, but it was a window in name only, being only a square piece of glass stuck in the wall that didn’t slide or push open. Outside was a small car park. In the dark beyond the glass, I could see a few hunched over cars and the faint light of the car park office.

“Give us half pork, half seafood, please.” The young-looking waitress blinked rapidly at her request. “Half and half? Half and half what?” She seemed to have trouble understanding Korean.

“Half of this and half of that,” my friend said, pointing at each item on the menu posted on the wall. The waitress stared at a corner of the stained ceiling above the menu. The expression on her face was tortured as if she were doing some complex calculation. Just then, a woman who looked like the owner rushed out of the kitchen. In three seconds, my friend reached an agreement with the owner to pay 25,000 won for a combination of pork stir fry and seafood stir fry.

“I ordered whatever I wanted . . .That’s okay, isn’t it?” I said it was fine.To tell the truth, I didn’t really like frozen ingredients stir-fried briefly in a red, spicy sauce, but I didn’t care either way when it came to bar food, so I didn’t object.

She lowered her voice and muttered: “This place is great, but they

194 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES

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