the crossing
38p
it was a moment a to remember. a breathe of relief almost escaped me.
I sat in the back seat as we drove down that old E-class Benz. it had taken me on a good number of rides.
as we took our time moving forward I saw the line. huge behemoths with black sunglasses and blank expressions gazed across the border...
meanwhile scrawny- in comparison-soldiers with the traditional drab uniforms stared right back at those blank black holes.
I doubted either sides bravery nor will.
I was reminded of the journey to the 38.
how we exited py through 통일도로, passed under the arches of reunification.
"애국자". thats what he called me. the 아버이.
how foolish we all are.
how we stopped outside the same cafe where a previous sk president-heading the opposite direction- took a break and supposedly was gifted a tapestry of a tiger when he showed interest in it.
how we passed the time smoking cigs and exchanging stories for what could possibly be the last time, when we arrived early to 판문점.
fall was coming, leaves were dropping, loud Chinese tourists entered and left after viewing the border on this side. we awaited our turn. it was a peaceful goodbye
it was a stark contrast
---
holding my original belongings, bags of gifts and souvenirs, and several books that I had bought, I crossed the imaginary line that separates my people
