October - Mr Sisina

Saturday, 1st October

Dad is back. His face is deeply tanned his beard wild. He looks fit. His face is like that of a boy with no wrinkles and no worries. Alive. Nothing like when he used to go to the office. It does me good to see Dad’s happy face.

We’ve decided to throw a small welcome-back party in the garden tomorrow evening. Dad wanted to do it on National Foundation Day (the 3rd) but Mum said we all had work and school the next day and should think of other people for a change. Dad seems to have lost all sense of weekdays and public holidays.

Dad has invited Hee-jeong’s family and Dong-wan’s family. Grandpa and Grandma are coming too. Of course Aunt Jeong-su and her husband as well. I asked Dad if we could also invite Mr Sisina and he said yes. If only I had the number of the bungeo-ppang Hyung I’d have invited him too. What a shame. The garden is far too small. It’s going to be a disaster. Perhaps we should just chop down all the flower beds.

Sunday, 2nd October

I got up early and checked the sky first thing. Thankfully it’s perfectly clear.

I started by finishing the maths homework Aunt gave me, so I can enjoy myself today and tomorrow without guilt. It’s amazing how I’ve changed. I’ve decided to call this. the power of love.

Dad slept in. Probably jet lag. Mum did too. They were noisy all night. My ears had quite an adventure. In my room on the second floor I listened to Deep Purple while reading Van Gogh. Letters to His Brother which Hee-jeong lent me. Reading it I think I finally understand what she meant when she said ‘With the Impressionists I like the painter more than the painting.’

Whatever the ‘literary dignity’ of my diary I’m copying here a letter that moved me deeply.

To Theo

The duty of a painter is to plunge into nature and pour all his feelings into his work with all his strength. Only then does it become a painting others can understand. If one paints in order to sell one can never reach that goal. It is nothing but deception of the eyes of those who love art. A true artist will never do such a thing. If one works seriously a day will come when one gains people’s sympathy.

July 1882

Now I finally understand why Van Gogh didn’t sell a single painting in his lifetime.

In the evening there were fourteen of us in our garden. Mum, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt Jeong-su, my uncle, Hee-jeong, her mum, her dad, Dong-wan, Dong-wan’s dad, Dong-wan’s mum, Mr Sisina and me. It was cramped but not enough to justify chopping down trees.

Hee-jeong came wearing her white sweater. And of course I wore my black one. Aunt Jeong-su looked at us and said we looked like two cats. That strangely pleased me. I stayed well away from the barbecue afraid the smell might seep into the sweater. Dong-wan quickly struck up a friendship with Mr Sisina. I learned that Mr Sisina had gone to university in Sri Lanka but had to drop out because of his family’s financial troubles. He’s married and has a daughter. He showed us her photo. She was truly adorable. He said that if he could earn money in Korea until next year he would go back to Sri Lanka and open a nice restaurant. I truly hope his dream comes true.

Grandpa and Grandma were affectionate. It was as if peace had returned since those cursed white shoes were thrown away. As always the mums started talking about the children’s studies. This is the only time my mum ever says a word about my grades. In this kind of atmosphere Aunt Jeong-su is always the boss. Actually even without this atmosphere Aunt Jeong-su is always the boss. It must be because she comes from the jungle Tarzan-style. The dads began bickering about Flash Girl and True Colors and as usual it ended in a political debate. Around midnight the mums led the drunk dads away one by one.

When everyone had gone a great emptiness came over me. On my left sleeve there was a strand of wool from Hee-jeong’s white sweater. I didn’t remove it. I left it there.

Monday, 3rd October (National Foundation Day)

Last night I had a strange dream. I was in a white room. On the desk there was a box. From the ceiling drops of water fell. Tap. Tap. Tap. The room smelled of rusty iron. I stood up to see what was inside the box and the chair toppled over. One leg of the chair was broken. I pressed the broken leg back against the chair and wrapped it three times with a white bandage. Then I looked inside the box. It was full of envelopes. On each was written. Dem. People’s Rep. of Korea.

After hearing my dream Dad said ‘You have stupid dreams almost every day.’ I was relieved thinking it was just another idiotic dream when Dad casually added ‘Next time dream of pigs. Might bring some money into the house.’

Come to think of it is Dad planning to live forever as a holiday-maker? If I ever dream of pigs I’ll sell the dream to Mum. She seems more reliable than Dad.

Tuesday, 4th October

The holidays are over. Everyone goes back to routine.

Mum to the office

me to school

Dad to home as usual.

Wednesday, 5th October

I don’t know what’s got into Dad. He is doing a massive clean-up in the basement. He says he’s going to throw away everything useless. When Mum used to tell him to throw things out he always refused. Now he’s scraping mould off the walls and washing them with diluted detergent. He even changed the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It almost looks decent now. He’s left only an old table and a worn armchair down there.

Dad also pulled out an old hi-fi system from the storeroom. An antique that doesn’t even play CDs which we hadn’t used in ages. He plugged in the speakers and searched for a frequency. In the basement reception was poor. When he stuck the antenna out of the window the signal finally caught. FM 93.1 a classical music station. A piano melody flowed softly.

‘So?’ Dad asked.

‘It feels like a black cat might appear.’

‘Meow.’ Dad imitated a cat.

‘We have a garden. Why don’t we raise a dog?’

‘Because Dad is afraid of dogs.’

‘What?’ I thought I’d misheard.

‘I’m scared of dogs. When I was little I got bitten once. Since then I’ve been afraid of all the dogs in the world.’

‘Even tiny cute puppies?’

‘Yes. Even them. They scare me.’

Grandma sometimes calls me ‘my little puppy’. I hope Dad isn’t afraid of me.

Thursday, 6th October

Jong-gu got told off by his dad. Apparently his father is against him going out with Hye-seon. ‘At your age a girlfriend?’ What universe does he live in?

I advised Jong-gu to switch to ‘private settings mode’. He said he was already in private mode. You can’t even reset! I knew it. Ever since he’d been walking around holding hands everywhere it smelled of trouble.

Friday, 7th October

Since her birthday Hee-jeong keeps holding my hand. With the cool weather I can’t decently push her away. That’s a gentleman’s courtesy. Between looks and manners, manners come first right?

After school I went to Grandpa’s. In front of the building the bungeo-ppang Hyung was selling again. He’d worked four months on a temporary contract at a video-game company. It was meant to be three months but the project ran late so he did an extra month. From this week he’s back to bungeo-ppang. Now that it’s cold it earns him more than the game job did.

If he’s back at his stall his music still hasn’t broken through. That’s sad.

Saturday, 8th October

Mr Jamie told me my English has improved a lot. These days he’s drawing. During hours without English lessons he wondered what to do so he started sketching household objects one by one in a notebook. Not many yet but he draws every day steadily.

He showed me his pen and coloured-pencil drawings. A coffee grinder, a fountain pen, an ink bottle, a key ring, a sharpener, a lighter and an ashtray. When I said he drew really well he smiled a little shy. Seeing the lighter and ashtray I asked if he smoked. He said he did after his car accident but he’d quit. I congratulated him with all my heart.

I wish my father would quit completely too. Soon Mum will inspect him. For the peace of our family I hope he passes the test cleanly. And for Dad’s sabbatical year as well.

Sunday, 9th October (Hangeul Day)

When Dad said he was afraid of dogs it was a blatant lie. I need to check carefully whether his nose has been growing lately. I rang Grandma to ask if Dad had been bitten as a child and become scared of dogs. She said she’d never heard of such a thing.

I went down to the living room to demand answers and Dad in his usual nasal voice was begging Mum to let us raise a puppy. Mum looked worried. Raising a dog isn’t a simple hobby it’s a big responsibility. I backed Dad up saying that if we had a dog burglars wouldn’t come in. Mum replied that a stray dog if you feed it kindly opens the way for burglars. So I said ‘Then not a stray. A Jindo!’

Dad said pure-bred Jindos are hard to find and if we adopt it’s better to take a mongrel with a bit of Jindo blood. Mum asked ‘And who’s picking up the poo?’ Dad answered ‘Obviously Byeok.’

We reached a gentleman’s agreement. We raise a puppy.

- Gentleman’s Agreement for Raising a Puppy -

1. The puppy lives in the garden. Only in heavy rain or extreme cold may it sleep at the entrance. It is not brought into the living room or bedrooms.
2. Byeok cleans the kennel regularly. Of course Byeok picks up the poo. When Byeok isn’t around Dad does it.
3. The puppy is washed often.
4. When taken out the puppy must always wear a lead.
5. The puppy is never used to threaten people.

Mum Dad and I went to the pet shop to buy a puppy. I chose with extreme concentration a dog that looked clean and if possible would not poo much. Dad said that if the dog was too big it would be hard to train so we should get a very small puppy and train it up. He spoke like a canine expert.

Among all the puppies we finally found the one we clicked with. With its round little head it didn’t seem to have a single drop of Jindo blood. It looked gentle as if it could get along with us. But if you looked closely it was a typical stray. Of course the seller assured us that it was nonetheless a ‘distant cousin’ of the Jindo.

We decided to believe him and paid. When the little thing got into our car it sighed with relief. I was happy. I felt as if we already understood each other.

We named our new family member Baduk. When Mum said ‘What about ‘Aji’?’ Dad sniggered ‘And his family name would be Kang?’ Dad laughed so hard he nearly caused an accident. At that moment laser beams shot out of Mum’s eyes.

When I see Dad laugh I think he looks a bit like Baduk.

Monday, 10th October

Hee-jeong and Dong-wan came to see Baduk. Hee-jeong hugged him saying he was like an adorable doll. Ah… if only I were Baduk.

Dong-wan says he’d like a puppy too but in a flat it’s not possible. He says that in Mongolia every house has a dog and dogs there are very fierce. So ‘Have you tied up the dog?’ would be a Mongolian greeting.

I also showed them Dad’s workshop. He’s painted the walls a sea blue. We aired it for days so the paint smell has almost gone. Dong-wan said it was really nice.

‘But what work do you do here?’ Hee-jeong asked eyes full of curiosity.

‘A job? I don’t know that myself.’

‘A workshop. And you don’t know what work he does?’ Dong-wan asked baffled.

‘Yes. Now you mention it. I’ve never asked what kind of workshop it is.’

They were laughing when Dad came in carrying a box. He carefully opened it and took out an old machine.

‘What’s that?’ Hee-jeong asked first.

‘Oh that? It’s a turntable. Before CDs or MP3s we listened to music on this. Wait a second.’

Dad connected it to the old hi-fi. Then he went to the storeroom and brought a cardboard box. The one Mum always told him to throw away or sell. Yet Dad kept it in the best spot as if it were treasure. A box never opened. There are five more like it in the storeroom. Dad opened it and pulled out a huge object like a picture book. A big square of thin paper with a beautiful illustration.

‘Wow!’ we cried.

‘What is it?’ Dong-wan asked.

‘It’s a vinyl record. You put it on the turntable and music comes out. Want to listen?’

‘Yes!’ all three of us said.

Dad placed the record. Lively clear harmonica music filled the room. When the track ended Hee-jeong said ‘Oh… it sounds like it’s raining?’ Dong-wan looked outside. ‘That’s strange. It’s not raining.’ Dad burst out laughing.

‘The title is Before the Rain. So after the music… the rain falls.’ He showed us the sleeve. Lee Oskar’s Before the Rain.

We listened to a few more tracks in the workshop. Fresh light music. Dad taught us how to handle vinyl. He told Hee-jeong and Dong-wan to come and hang out in the workshop often. It was a happy moment.

But what ‘work’ does Dad actually do in this workshop? I didn’t ask.

Tuesday, 11th October

I finally understand where the saying comes from. ‘What are you doing training a mutt or what?’

Wednesday, 12th October

I finally grasp the true meaning of. ‘He can’t even tell pee from poo.’

Thursday, 13th October

Apart from not yet distinguishing pee from poo our Baduk is quite cute and clever. He’s just still a baby. If we train him well he’ll surely become a distant cousin of the Jindo.

Today when the delivery man rang the bell Baduk barked woof woof! That means he can already tell family from strangers right?

Friday, 14th October

In the evening I took Baduk out for a walk. The bungeo-ppang Hyung said he looked like ‘Gromit’. But really. Gromit cleans the house and washes windows. Our Baduk can’t even tell pee from poo.

When I got home Mum was giving Dad a cooking lesson. Since Dad has to take care of the house during his sabbatical it’s only right that he also makes side dishes. He was writing Mum’s instructions one by one in a notebook. Stir-fried anchovies, soy-braised beans, seasoned dried pollack strips, bean-sprout salad and seasoned spinach. They looked like a couple in love. Until Dad broke a premium plate.

Mum says she’ll deduct the price from Dad’s pocket money.

Saturday, 15th October

Hee-jeong’s brother has passed the first round for art school. If he passes the CSAT and the interview he’ll become a student. Wow! That must be amazing. He did nothing but work and draw in the workshop and now he’s proudly through. But he can’t relax. These days, interview is said to be the hardest part. Curiously he doesn’t seem worried about the CSAT. He’s strong in schoolwork. Lucky him.

After maths and English at Aunt Jeong-su’s Hee-jeong came to our place. To listen to music on Dad’s old hi-fi. The vinyl records Dad has taken out of the storeroom are over five hundred. Rock, jazz and classical. It’s varied. Like Baduk’s appetite Dad’s musical taste has no prejudice. After all he was once a huge fan of Flash Girl.

‘So what work do you do here?’ Hee-jeong asked my father.

‘A job? Well. I read I listen to music. In future I want to watch films too. Why?’

‘No. Just curious.’

‘And you don’t earn any money?’

‘No. No need. Byeok’s mum earns money. I’ll earn some later slowly.’

‘So Dad what do you do?’

‘I told you. I keep the house, listen to music, and read. Why?’

‘Usually dads go out to earn money…’

‘That’s true. But when you grow up you’ll understand. Don’t try to understand everything at once my son.’

When I grow up what will I understand? I’m curious. But never mind. Dad is happy now. And he spends time with me. These past months I’ve spent more time with him than in all the years before. He no longer says he’s tired or that his head is full. He no longer collapses on the sofa. I love Dad’s sabbatical year.

At dinner Mum said she’d arranged a health profile check for Dad with the insurance company. Next week a nurse will come to the house.

Sunday, 16th October

I helped set up Dad’s workshop. To keep the basement dry I put charcoal in small baskets and placed them around. Afraid it might get cold in winter we also bought a small stove in advance. We hung a few pictures on the wall. One was a photo of stars called the Whale Nebula. Dad says he found it on NASA’s website. He also hung a Miles Davis record sleeve.

Dad’s workshop now looks like a nice café from a TV drama. At noon Mum came down and said ‘It’s nicely done.’ She sank into the armchair and asked Dad to put something on. Dad searched the vinyl for a long time then put on Symphony No. 9 by someone called Mahler. Strange music flowed from the speakers.

‘When your dad was a student he loved classical and jazz so much.’

‘Really? And Flash Girl?’

‘When we were going out your dad talked only about music and books. He looked very cultured very classy.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Of course. He was very popular with the female students. And in the end your mum won him. Your mum followed him everywhere really.’

Dad is saying things he shouldn’t.

‘Anyway if you fail the anti-smoking test your sabbatical is over got it?’ Mum threw back as she went upstairs.

Dad looked nervous like someone in withdrawal.

Monday, 17th October

Mr Sisina was attacked by local thugs. As he was walking a dog ran at him. He told the owner to watch his dog and the owner insulted him. ‘dirty little black’. Then suddenly punched him. Luckily the bungeo-ppang Hyung saw it. The police came asked a few questions then said to ‘settle it amicably’. The thug who hit Mr Sisina wasn’t even twenty. Just a kid. And the police are truly ridiculous. Instead of arresting the attacker they tell them to negotiate nicely. If Mr Sisina had been American or French would they have done the same?

Mr Sisina was in shock. Treated so unjustly he cried in rage. My heart tightened and I felt guilty. Dad drove him to hospital. In A&E they treated the wound near his eye. Since he said his jaw hurt badly the doctor asked him to bite on a stick. When he couldn’t the doctor suspected a cracked jaw. They took an X-ray. Thankfully no fracture.

Dad had him admitted first to stabilise him. Dad contacted Hee-jeong’s father to recommend a hospital with proper wards. A doctor friend of his worked there. In the evening Hee-jeong’s dad and Hee-jeong came to visit. Dong-wan’s dad and Dong-wan came too as soon as they heard. Mr Sisina had a big wound in his heart. And he cried again thanking everyone.

Dong-wan’s dad got angry as if it had been Dong-wan who was attacked. He made calls everywhere. Soon after a lawyer arrived at the hospital. The company lawyer of Dong-wan’s dad’s firm. In an impeccable suit he asked Mr Sisina for the sequence of events. He also called the bungeo-ppang Hyung to check details. He said there must be CCTV cameras nearby and ran off to the scene.

Fortunately he obtained footage from a bakery camera next to Hyung’s stall. Watching it everything was exactly as Mr Sisina and Hyung had said. When he heard the video had been secured Mr Sisina burst into loud tears again.

The lawyer said he would immediately draft the complaint and file it in court with the video as evidence. The hospital issued only a three-week medical certificate. Even with connections four weeks was impossible. Dong-wan’s dad said it was a shame. It should have been four weeks. But Hee-jeong’s dad said no. When it’s no it’s no.

We decided to entrust the whole procedure to the lawyer. Given how fast he’d secured the evidence he looked competent. And dressed that well he really looked like a lawyer.

Today my father Hee-jeong’s father and Dong-wan’s father were all extraordinary.

Tuesday, 18th October

The thug’s parents came to the hospital where Mr Sisina was admitted. The thug’s father is said to be chief of staff to the president of a large brokerage firm. As soon as he entered the room the rude man blurted out. ‘How much do you want?’ My father shouted for him to get out immediately.

The lawyer called us. He has launched both criminal and civil proceedings. He told Mr Sisina not to worry about anything and to focus on recovery.

Wednesday, 19th October

Dong-wan’s dad says he’ll submit a petition to court. He’s only met Mr Sisina once but he’s helping him like a best friend throwing himself into the case. My father wrote a petition too and gave it to Dong-wan’s dad. He says he’ll submit both tomorrow.

I read the petition Dad wrote. It was very moving. Mum read it too and said ‘You can see the level he had back in his university days.’ My father really is a mysterious character.

Thursday, 20th October

A detective came to Mr Sisina’s room to take his statement. But the trial hasn’t started yet. Why does it take so long? Dong-wan’s dad is contacting journalist friends. He says he’ll teach them a lesson. My father called my uncle. But my uncle being a proofreader said he doesn’t do reporting. Dad asked him at least to introduce a society-page journalist. My uncle replied that he was too busy to respond to every denunciation. According to him three weeks of medical certificate is a bit weak. Dad shouted ‘Then how badly do you have to be beaten before a journalist moves?’

Dad exaggerated a little.

Friday, 21st October

Mr Sisina has been discharged. He’s more stable but psychologically he’s suffering a lot. The thug probably won’t go to prison. It’s his first offence. Frustrating. He ought to eat prison rice.

Dong-wan heard from his dad that the prosecutor chose a summary procedure. No public trial. The judge will decide after reviewing documents. The decision will come by next week at the latest and it will probably just be a fine. Ah… the law is far the fist is near!

Dong-wan’s dad is also preparing a civil suit and apparently he shouted at the lawyer. ‘Get ten billion won!’ With ten billion Mr Sisina could go back to Sri Lanka immediately. But my dad says such an amount is impossible. At best hospital fees and a few coins of moral compensation.

Mr Sisina’s hospital bills aren’t covered by any health insurance because he was hospitalised due to an assault. The money has to be recovered from the attacker. In the meantime Dong-wan’s dad has paid everything.

Saturday, 22nd October

In the morning I studied maths and English at Aunt Jeong-su’s then stopped by Mr Sisina’s place. But he wasn’t there. He’d gone back to work today. I hope he pulls himself together soon and returns to a normal life.

Mr Sisina’s case has pushed many things into the background but there’s good news. Dad passed the anti-smoking test at once last Wednesday. Strangely though his blood pressure was too high. They measured it twice. Normally it’s fine but that day it was very high. Probably stress from the test. Mum is happy. She says the couple’s trust hasn’t been broken. The final decision on Dad’s health profile will be made next week. I don’t know why it’s so important but I hope Dad passes as Mum wishes. Has Mum ever been wrong?

From my experience Dad is sometimes right but Mum is always right.

Sunday, 23rd October

I listened to music alone in Dad’s workshop. I carefully took out his cherished vinyls one by one just to look at them. The track I liked most was ‘My Road’ by Lee Oskar. On harmonica. No matter how much I listened I never tired of it.

In an empty basement listening to music alone and reading World Masterpieces of Mystery from Dad’s shelf. It was a bit chilling. “The Man from the South” by Roald Dahl made me jump. In such a bright atmosphere a terrifying reversal suddenly emerges. I thought he was a children’s writer but he had such dark power in him.

Monday, 24th October

As expected the thug got only a three-million-won fine on the grounds that it was his first offence. Dong-wan’s dad exploded ‘Even a passing dog would laugh at that!’ They say that normally so calm a man has been jumping around in rage since morning. But since the prosecutor won’t appeal there’s nothing we can do.

I was reminded of the class-rep election and it made me sad.

Tuesday, 25th October

Hee-jeong and I submitted an application to take part in volunteer work during the winter holidays. When I feel this depressed Hee-jeong is my only pleasure in life.

Wednesday, 26th October

In the evening Dad went out to see Hee-jeong’s dad and Dong-wan’s dad. He says Mr Sisina’s case is settling well so he’s buying a drink. Dad came back late completely drunk. Everything is fine except I’m a bit worried about the people who’ll go tomorrow to get their teeth treated by Hee-jeong’s dad. I hope he doesn’t accidentally pull out a healthy tooth.

Thursday, 27th October

Hee-jeong says her dad didn’t drink a single beer yesterday. Because of the dental clinic he never drinks on weekdays. I worried for nothing.

Dad has definitively passed the insurance health profile test. So we’ll get about 30,000 won off the monthly premium. And on top of that we got 600,000 won back from what we’ve paid so far. Mum gave that money to Dad as pocket money. Dad was as happy as if he’d won the lottery.

The maths problems Aunt Jeong-su gives me are getting harder and harder. I spent three hours trying and couldn’t even solve them all. Is she trying to make me a doctor of maths or what. I miss the days of salt-water problems.

Friday, 28th October

Today I talked a lot with Grandpa. He says discriminating against others wasn’t originally human nature. Primitive humans didn’t kill or discriminate. According to him humanity started becoming bad around 6000 BC with the birth of early civilisations. When cities appeared in Mesopotamia humans began to dominate and discriminate against other humans. Once rooted this malice spread over the Earth in an instant.

Grandpa said that during colonial times the Japanese discriminated terribly against Koreans and that they still discriminate against Koreans in Japan. But he also said that we in Korea discriminate against other Asians. He said America is very racist too. It’s just that because expressing racism is punished it hides and becomes invisible. He added that Europe is very racist as well. Only since we don’t live there we don’t see it. But everywhere it’s the same he says.

Grandpa said he himself suffered much discrimination because he was from Jeolla. Today it’s no longer so open but he says this regional discrimination still remains rooted underground in society.

He told me that when our great-grandfather was taken away for forced labour Japanese often said to him. ‘You’re not really like a Korean.’ And Grandpa himself often heard. ‘You’re not really like a Jeolla.’ Each time he didn’t know whether it was a compliment or an insult. He says he suffered a lot among people full of prejudice.

He told me that no matter whether others discriminate or not I must never become someone who discriminates. I promised I never would. Grandpa said that even if the other is different from me he is human and deserves respect as such. He said doing big things socially is important but it’s these small things that make the world better.

I don’t understand exactly everything he means. But I know one thing for sure. It’s not because Dong-wan’s mother is Mongolian that Dong-wan should be discriminated against. And it’s not because Mr Sisina comes from Sri Lanka that he should be discriminated against.

Saturday, 29th October

Dad booked four tickets for a classical concert. Not Dad, Mum, me and Baduk. Baduk is replaced by Hee-jeong. Dad bought the tickets as a birthday present for Mum. Programme is Mahler’s Symphony No. 9. The one that nearly set the house on fire last time.

Dad suggested going together with Hee-jeong’s dad and Mum but they flatly refused. Hee-jeong’s dad said ‘True Colors or Flash Girl fine but Mahler… not for me.’ Hee-jeong’s mum has no particular interest in classical music. It seems the artistic sensibility of Hee-jeong and her brother doesn’t come from their parents.

Dad says he got four ‘Category C’ seats at the Arts Center Concert Hall. I thought that meant not front row. Maybe third?

Sunday, 30th October

Hee-jeong and I listened to Mahler’s Symphony No. 9 in Dad’s workshop. But even before the end of the first movement I felt ants crawling all over me. I was dying of impatience. Even Hee-jeong eventually said ‘What is this music?’ I put on My Road by Lee Oskar instead. My anxiety finally calmed. Hee-jeong said it was much better too.

I nearly ruined a golden Sunday afternoon because of Mahler.

Monday, 31st October

The ‘Category C’ seats at the Arts Center Concert Hall weren’t the third row. They come after VIP, R, S, A and B. They’re the cheapest category. We have to listen from way up at the top on the third floor. Aaah! And Category C costs only 10,000 won.

‘Do you think I’m the boss of a huge conglomerate?’ Dad said proudly. And he told me if I didn’t feel like going I could just not go.

I wonder if it’s worth travelling all the way to that distant Arts Center just to listen to Mahler’s weird music.

All day the radio keeps playing ‘The Forgotten Season’ by Lee Yong.