bad weather syndrome
Translated from Korean
Bad weather syndrome: The phenomenon where travelers encounter bad weather on the highlight day of their trip.
- This syndrome began in Geoje Island in 2002, continuing to Mount Baekdu in 2005, Jeju Island and Mount Kumgang in 2006, Suraksan Valley in 2011, Gyeongju in 2013, Boseong in 2014, Bucheon Campground and Ansan Rock Festival in 2015, 2016 Hallasan, 2017 Tottori, Japan. And countless other days I can't recall—it's ongoing. I don't know when it will disappear or how to cure it. Perhaps these bad weather days will never let me go on my journey called life. All I can do is remember the me that existed in each moment of that bad weather. The me who laughed hollowly under an umbrella, the me who took selfies in front of Witseoreum with my face frozen stiff, even my eyelashes, the me who lay on my mother's lap in a guesthouse in Geoje, watching the rain fall. It's remembering and comforting those versions of myself. At least for now, that is the only way I can live with this syndrome.
- In my long journey through a long tunnel, I still encountered bad weather. Ugly snow fell, torrential rain poured down, unpleasant dampness weighed me down, and hail pelted me. My seven months were not a time that spared me from encountering that bad weather anymore. It wasn't some magic wand that only showed sunshine every day. I simply learned what to do when I encountered bad weather in that long tunnel. When snow falls, I need to wear crampons. When hail falls, I need to buy a sturdy umbrella that costs a bit more, not a flimsy plastic one. When rain fell, I had to tightly wrap my bag in a raincoat, just in case my electronics got wet. I took out my bad weather and talked through how to handle each one. I learned to exist as myself in that moment, without getting upset or crying when I encountered bad weather. Whether the day was good, bad, or just right, I existed as myself through all those days. I haven't forgotten all that time I spent being me. I'm afraid it might snow again or rain again, so I keep checking the weather over and over. But still, I'm leaving. I'm heading to that destination. So I'll keep running toward the light at the end of that long tunnel. Even if that tunnel is Jeongneung Tunnel, and even if another long, long Hongjimun Tunnel appears after that, still, if I cross that tunnel too, so if I run and run, past Seongsan Bridge and beyond the Han River, I can escape this Seoul filled only with pain.