Memories of Grandfather's House

When you take the bus from Mukho town's bus stop and head towards Gangneung city, you'll soon come across the foothills of Balhan-ri. There, a quiet 4-5 km stretch of mountain trail called "Samunjae" begins. Forty years ago, it was mostly bare mountainsides with occasional small pine trees scattered along the unpaved road. Now, it's paved with asphalt, and from there, you can see the deep blue East Sea far off to the east, alongside the newly built Highway 7.

 

Just where the downhill slope of the foothill ends, you'll find Mangsang-ri, where many relatives of our household still reside. In my childhood, at the entrance to the village, there stood Korean totem poles, and across the road, to the east, beyond the pine forest marked the beginning of sweet briers, leading to the white sandy beach and the vast blue sea.

 

A recent look at Mangsang-ri on Google Earth showed that Highway 7 and the Donghae(East Sea) Expressway now cut through the village. After the construction of the expressway, a wave of development swept through the village, with many lodgings and hotels built to accommodate the influx of tourists to Mangsang Beach. Despite the significant changes, from the aerial photographs, it didn't seem vastly different from the past, except for the addition of the expressway.

 

My grandfather's house, which I visited several times in my childhood, was not far from the entrance to the village. Whenever I went, the yard was always neatly swept, giving off a tidy impression. I recall hearing stories of my uncles who was my classmate, waking up at the crack of dawn to sweep the yard as per my strict grandfather's orders. Next to the yard, towards the back gate, there was a bamboo grove that rustled in the wind.

 

The kitchen was quite spacious, with several large cauldrons hanging over the hearth, emitting a shiny glow. Off to the side of the kitchen floor, there was a stone mill used to grind rice cakes. During holidays, two people (usually my second grandmother(my grandfather’s concubine) and second aunt) would step on the millstone to grind rice while another person vigorously mixed the ground rice cake batter in a wooden trough.

 

Opposite the cauldrons, there was a large hearth, and beside it, a cowshed where cows could be seen leisurely chewing their cud. The house's layout, with the kitchen and cowshed sharing the same space to utilize the kitchen's warmth to keep the cowshed warm, seemed like a typical northern-style farmhouse, as I read in a book somewhere, and indeed, my grandfather's house was built in such a manner.

 

The house, where my uncles, aunts, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and several great-great-grandfathers were born and raised, was quite substantial for a rural farmhouse. My memories of my grandfather's house are still vivid in my mind. At night, when there was no electricity, oil lamps would be lit, and my elder uncle, who was in middle school at the time, would chitchat and get scolded by my grandfather. My grandfather, waking up early in the morning, would recite Korean traditional poems mixed with coughs, and the neatly arranged medicinal herbs hanging from the ceiling of the main room all feel as if I saw them yesterday.

 

When I was seven years old, during my grandfather's sixtieth birthday celebration, a large banquet was held in the yard, with straw mats set up, folding screens arranged, and traditional music playing, gathering people from the entire village.  After my father passed away early, and sometime later, for some reason, when I visited my grandfather's house to pay my respects, my grandfather would repeatedly say, "Your father, your father..." without being able to continue, expressing his feelings while mentioning his children.

 

A few years ago, by chance, I got in touch with my middle school friend, heard news of my uncle, who was my classmate. He now runs a pension called "Taejeong Pension" on the site where my grandfather's house used to be, upgraded to a city and renamed as Mangsang-dong in Donghae City. Upon visiting the website of the pension, I was momentarily shocked by the drastically changed landscape from my memories. It was hard to believe that the cozy and tidy farmhouse had transformed into an ostentatious building of unknown nationality. My uncle must have adorned it to attract customers, but in doing so, one of my precious memories vanished.

 

(October 14, 2014)