[HanCinema's Korea Diaries] Picturing Memory Lane #1

One of the lonely pleasures I discovered in Korea was getting lost: wallowing in my ignorance of the strange signs and streets around; wilfully wandering a new world and waiting for a thousand words, more or less, to appear.

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On weekends, I was bound to encounter random packs of cheerful children stuffed with sweet, and/or sour, curiosity towards this particular picture-taking alien. With unadulterated honestly they'd often exclaim, whisper, wave and wonder about me.

When spotted in the streets (especially if they didn't see me from a distance; like when I'd round a corner and suddenly confront them with my alien appearance), their reactions were almost always the same: briefly stunned, then transfixed, but sometimes surprisingly cautious and slightly suspicious. Grown-ups either ignore or minimise such obvious threats to the norm, but children can be wildly emotive, friendly, and lack the 'maturity' to dilute/hide their fascination, and so engage aliens without much fear and context.

This picture is from one of the first times I got lost with a camera in Korea. The country was enjoying a sunny Saturday, the beginning of a real sticky summer, and the back alleys were, for the time being, still cool enough to slink through (by mid-summer only local ACs will save you, and the rooftops and streets are designated for drying peppers and the desperate).

I generally prefer taking pictures of objects and architecture, but this chap (to be fair) hardly moved as his fellow friends delighted in this close encounter. As more and more young energy swarmed me (probably observing that no one was getting eaten, or assuming I'd eaten already, or that it was now worth the risk, statistically speaking), and between all the "hello's" and high(ish) fives, I spied this ice-lolly lad still staring from a safe distance. Like a statue he stood, but like a powerful portrait his eyes followed me, only shifting slightly to better suck at his doomed delight.

His friends and the pack relented, and I was free to move once more. Still, the boy stood their like he'd just triggered a land mine; staring, sucking, and smiling as I snapped his present essence and blew him away.

Before disappearing down the next alley I turned to see him for the last time, and was not surprised to find that his eyes were still fixed to mine. But this time a part of his body was doing something strange, something unexpected and out of character.

He was on his toes with one arm raised unnaturally high above his head, and for a moment it looked like he was being yanked violently from above by some unseen force.

He was waving, waving wildly goodbye, then gone.

 

- C.J. Wheeler (@Woolgatherist; KoreaOnTheCouch)