Korea

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Worlds Elsewhere photo journal: comprehensive photos of our adventures

Instagram: @worldselsewhere

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For me the most emotionally poignant and meaningful leg of our travels, Korea was all family, all the time: a turbo-charged surge of adrenaline- and kimchi-fueled love.

While we were back in the US for our family’s traditional Thanksgiving gathering, discussions about our upcoming Korea travel leg magically morphed into concrete plans for my two sisters and their families to join us, meaning a group of 14 would converge on Seoul in June. Feverishly enthusiastic plans, involving a huge WhatsApp group chat and numerous Google Sheets, ensued. Jackson had studied in Seoul for a high school summer and our nephew Maxx was to spend his spring 2023 semester there, but for the rest of our children, it would be the first time in a country they had long yearned to visit. For my sister Alexa, it was her first visit in 40 years; for me, Theo, my sister Michelle and her husband Bruce, the first in nearly 30 years.

I was born and raised in the United States, and don’t speak, write or read Korean, but my parents spoke the language to me, I grew up going to Korean church every Sunday and we knew what seemed like every Korean family in St. Louis. Thus, I viscerally recognized the language, the customs, the food, the way of speaking, the approach to life. Those who straddle cultures understand my paradoxical feelings of connection and disconnection, of recognition and dissonance.

Even those of us who had never visited Korea before had an idea of what to expect. In fact, millions without a direct familial link are fascinated by South Korea. Korean restaurants are everywhere (we even saw them in the Middle East and Latin America). The South Korean government’s investment in “soft diplomacy” has led to the ubiquity of popular K-pop groups like BTS and Blackpink, as well as Netflix K-dramas (I can recommend some favorites!). The Korean movie Parasite even won the 2019 Best Picture Oscar. I joke that Koreans are poised to take over the world with their music, food, TV shows, movies, and beauty products.

Our WhatsApp group chat holds many hundreds of memories, including snapshots of barbecue dinners, food markets, dizzying shopping excursions, silly karaoke sessions, photo booth adventures. In Seoul we traversed the city exhaustively, marveling over too-many-to-list museums, palaces and temples, a tour of my mother’s alma mater, a night market food tour and a late night bar crawl. We practiced the centuries-old art of carving our Korean names into stone dojang which, stamped with red ink, were used to sign documents (a practice still in use today). We visited the DMZ, imagining our forebears’ experiences when the country was divided in 1945, after years of Japanese occupation. We reunited with relatives over elaborate and casual meals, exploring neighborhoods on foot and finding innumerable restaurants and cafés to delight us. In Jeju, we reveled in the beach and ocean and discovered artisanal teas and beauty products; our guide Bill took us to places off the beaten path for delectable meals that blew our minds. In Busan, we celebrated Emerson’s 20th birthday, toured the National Museum (learning the Korean tea ceremony), cruised on a small yacht in the harbor, visited the Gamcheon cultural village and the Hyeonggsa temple.

Blessed and blissful, my sisters and I watched our children, already a tight-knit group, grow even closer and bond with their Korea-based cousins. Our children gained empathy for their grandparents’ experiences growing up under Japanese occupation and then emigrating from a country destroyed by war. And we all became ever more entranced with the surrounding history and culture.

Korea was a love letter to all of us (with a heavy assist from my parents, who instilled a self-anchoring sense of cultural orientation and pride in their children and especially their grandchildren): This is who we are. This is who you are. Love and be loved. Always remember your ancestors protect and watch over you, smiling and laughing.

Everything led to this moment in time.

Part of the Changing of the Guard ceremony at Gyeonbokkung Palace with enormous flags, huge drums, and elaborate costumes. The palace, built in the 14th century, had been largely destroyed over the years and was rebuilt over the past few decades. The mountain Bugaksan towers over the palace and the Blue House, the latter of which (not seen in this photo) is the historical home of the South Korean president. After the infamous Blue House Raid in 1968, during which North Korean operatives attempted to assassinate the South Korean president, the Blue House is no longer utilized as a presidential residence.

We marveled at the coincidences and circumstances that allowed all of us to be together in Korea. If we hadn’t decided to go on our elaborate trip, if our nephew Maxx weren’t already studying in Seoul for the semester, if our nieces weren’t between employment and school obligations, if our sons’ school and work schedules hadn’t allowed, if, if if….We may never be able to replicate the Korea sojourn. However, in a beautiful passing of the familial travel-mania torch, the cousins have decided to travel together regularly and have already started planning their next cousins-only (no parents!) trip.

At the tour of the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between North and South Korea (above, North Korean flag at left, South Korean at right), we were sobered by the reminder that the two countries were arbitrarily formed by a line of latitude (the 38th Parallel) drawn by the US in 1945, that millions permanently lost contact with family members when that line was drawn, and that the countries remain frozen in conflict to this day. We learned that, at the outbreak of the Korean War, hundreds of middle school and high school students fought and died in the streets of Seoul.

We sisters were especially emotional during a tour our mother arranged for our families of Ewha Womans University, her alma mater. Founded in 1886, Ewha has served as a beacon of enlightenment for generations, educating our mother and hundreds of thousands of Korean women. My sister Alexa’s middle name, Helen, was bestowed by my mother in memory of Dr. Helen Kim, the first Korean woman to earn a doctorate degree, who became the seventh president of Ewha College from 1939-1961. Moved and impressed by Ewha’s role in Korean history, we wrote letters of gratitude, which will be preserved in the archives.

At a family reunion dinner: my sisters (flanked by our cousins’ children) and I with my paternal aunt (in blue, center), her two daughters (to her right), my aunt Chung Ho and her daughter. Our family members were limitlessly generous. My cousin Ellice (bottom left) took me to see our grandparents' apartment where Alexa and I stayed 40 years ago and the house where my older sister Michelle visited our grandparents 55 years ago; she also showed me the site of my mother’s childhood home (now a commercial building), and took me and Jackson to her mother’s home an hour outside Seoul. I am indescribably grateful to have drawn closer to family members I hadn’t previously known well.

Best friends and cousins: Hudson and Jordan.

Our cousin Joon Soo (center, above, flanked by his wife and daughter, with me and Michelle; we are being silly and making heart signs with our fingers), who briefly lived with us in St. Louis decades ago while he was in college, generously hosted our family for the most lavish Korean barbecue dinner any of us had ever seen (and that is saying quite a bit!). Joon Soo and his daughter Seoyeon befriended Jackson in 2016, when Jackson spent a summer in Seoul, and it was wonderful for them to renew the friendship.

You know you’re in Korea when you’re eating French fries with chopsticks! Jackson at one of Seoul’s countless chicken and beer joints. We ate from street carts, at food markets, fancy restaurants and holes in the wall—the food was uniformly fantastic. We ate tteokbokki, bibimbap, gimbap, mandoo, bindaeteok, naengmyeon (Emily’s and Alexa’s- and my dad’s- favorite), kimchi jigae, kimchi pajeon, hotteok, doenjang jigae, soondubu jigae, kalguksu, fried chicken, endless bowls of rice, kimchi and banchan, lots and lots of ice cream, bingsoo (shaved ice with millions of variations); we grilled (many times) our own bulgogi, kalbi and black pork in Jeju (the last rendered us ecstatically speechless). Despite many people associating Korean food with beef, the Koreans don’t allow vegetarians to go hungry; in fact, historical Buddhist temple food is vegetarian. We had a heavenly (pun intended) multi-course vegetarian temple meal at Balwoo Gongyang and visited a super-hip vegan restaurant in Seoul.

Emerson turned 20 in Busan! Wearing a shirt his cousin Emily bought him that day while trawling vintage stores, he’s ready to slice up his birthday cake!

Inspired by the Abbey Road album cover, outside a hanok café in Busan, with our guide Dylan. Many trendy cafés allude to this architecture of traditional Korean homes, but few original structures can be found. One impressive exception: my cousin Ellice skillfully renovated her husband’s childhood hanok, preserving precious memories; it’s now one of Seoul’s most popular cafés!

My cousin Sally and her family hosted us at a marvelous dinner in Busan. Quite luckily for us, her entire family speaks perfect English, all having studied internationally and lived abroad for many years.

During the Korean War of the 1950s, many Koreans (including my father) fled south to Busan, the second largest city in Korea, to escape the invading communist forces. These sculptures honor the people who congregated at Yeongdodaegyo Bridge, searching (often in vain) for family members from whom they had been separated.