You may imagine Chuseok, a major harvest festival held around the autumn equinox, is the time when people visit their hometown and share a feast of Korean traditional food, respecting the past generation by serving freshly harvested food.
Waking up at 1.00 p.m. on Chuseok Eve, you lazily start your daily routine, looking at the phone screen, searching for news. Scrolling down the new messages on a screen, you find one posted by one of your besties.
“On my way to my hometown for seven and a half hours, still in the hell.”
You reply under her post.
“Hometown, where?”
“Busan”
“Arrrrrrrrr…..”
“Why do you go there?”
“You fool, it’s my parents’ hometown. Got to visit my grandparents. What about you? heading somewhere?”
“Nope, just woke up.”
“Arrrrrrrr……sick and tired of sleeping in a car. Most of all, annoying Chuseok stuff. Anyway, I got to help my mom and aunts to prepare huge meals. I am already really tired.”
She seems to be much bothered with ‘Chuseok thing’ - the whole Korean citizens moving to the countryside at the same time. It is also fully understandable that she is barely controlling her anger about all this traditional stuff. Trying to soothe her as much as possible, finally you end up in conversation, saying that you have a schedule.
After a few minutes of scrolling down, you find lots of other messages from all around, insisting that they are in the most stressful and annoying situations, scavenging for any fun stories which can take their minds out of the traffic. Shrugging your shoulders, you feel like all messages are none of your business because you have rarely been in such a situation.
It’s been over 8 years since you visited your grandparent’s house meeting the cousins. The family meeting other than Chuseok, when the heavy traffic reaches its peak, has become a new tradition of your family after grandfather passed away.
Feeling a little relieved for not being under such a desperate situation of crazy traffic, you feel a little bit different at the same time, more frankly a little upset, wondering if you are all alone in the house.
Your eyes start scouting all over the house, questioning who’s in the house.
Here she is.
Your mom is yelling out to you for lunch. Yelling back to her, you tramp to the kitchen table, not surprisingly, only to find you are the only one who was not woken. Father has gone to work, and brother is also outside hanging around with his friends.
That’s fine. It’s normal, you think to yourself.
The weirdo is your mom.
Her lunch menu was “Teokguk”, a soup made of rice cake, well decorated with seaweed and soft white egg, deeply boiled spreading a deep odor.
Well-prepared, but neither seasonal nor traditional.
After finishing lunch, your mother asks if you want to go watch a movie.
Uh-oh, that’s not normal, mom.
Most Koreans plan a successive ‘Charye’ during Chuseok, an ancestral memorial rite. However, rather than something ancestral relating topic, she asks you about “What are some interesting movies nowadays?”, and straightly books the ticket for a movie, expecting to spend half of her daytime at the theater enjoying her rare chance of leisurely cultural life.
Mom, is this what you will do today?
No food?
No relatives?
Never mind, it is not unusual. Give her a break.
What matters most is, now; you are left at home, all alone.
Your feet automatically head to your room where there a breeze cools the air. Without hesitation, and forgetting about the temporal annoyance of other family members not being there, you plunge into your bed and diving into your abyss of sleep, never realizing even in your dream that mother’s Teokguk will be the last ‘Chuseok’ish meal during the holiday break.
“Kotok, KKattok……. KKattok ”
An alarm sound from your phone wakes you up.
You see a message from your friend, Wheeseung, showing off her dinner menu with a photo posted.
She smiles brightly in her picture, as if she has never complained about anything about before.
She is the happiest girl in her picture with lots of delicious food prepared. Inside the photo, there was beef rib marinated with rich flavored sweet and salty soybean sauce, marinated thinly sliced beef with red bean paste sauce, traditional Korean sweet potato noodles mixed with colorful vegetables and sweet soy sauce. The best-looking dish is Songpyeon, Korean traditional seasonal rice cake filled with sweet sesame seeds fillings, only available on Chuseok.
This single photo leads you to imagine yourself sitting together around the table, full of Korean traditional food you love, as if your phone had a 4D technology applied for expressing the scent of all food types.
You send one phrase back to Wheeseung, “Envy you……”
You feel a deep sorrow, feelings of deprivation.
You feel something is missing.
And, you fall asleep again, wishing to spend a ‘ordinary’ Chuseok as all others do.
Waking up to realize it is dinner time, you scan the place around you, scouting again anyone.
This time, you find your mom returning from the movie, your dad returning from dog walking, and your older brother looking energetic after an exciting meeting with friends.
Dad, another weirdo, asks.
“Wanna go out eating?”
“No way! All restaurants are closed on Chuseok Eve, you know,” mom says, laughing.
“I want to eat your ramen stuff,” you and your brother chorus.
It’s that simple.
Dad prepares a big pot and a bunch of instant ramen to cook. The beginning is the sort of unremarkable normal instant ramen, but after eating the noodle part, my dad’s signature menu comes in. It’s a porridge like food made with leftover ramen soup and steamed rice. Certainly it is far away from traditional family festivities; you can see all family members talking, laughing, touching, and soothing just like Wheeseung’s picture has.
You ask the rest if you can take a picture, and find the happiest smiles brightly on everyone’s face from the family selfies.
What is Chuseok for?
Enjoyable Feast? Happy Gathering? or Stressful holiday?
Whatever it means to you, is there any reason for having such feelings only on special holidays like Chuseok?
I doubt it.
Just look around you.
If you believe there are affectionate and healthy family members that you can meet wherever and whenever, and if you have only humble meals to share, Chuseok comes even from ramen porridge.