The People of Wonju-si

Mr. Park at the summit of Chiaksan National Park

There were 5 of us at the base of Chiaksan. One photographer who took so much time composing on every leaf, rock, fallen tree and waterfall; and four who walked at an unimaginable pace.

I reasoned to my self that I can trail behind and catch up with them later, but all throughout the hike, I never saw them ever again. I lost sight of my friends and lost track of the hiking trail. That’s where my blessed misadventure began.

It happened in April. I was neither prepared for the climb nor the snow; neither to getting lost nor to suffering cramps alone in the middle of nowhere. I walked for nobody knows how long with no other person in sight.

I tried my best not to get into any accident, fell several times, battled hunger pains, emptied my water bottle, dug my fingers on thick blankets of snow, took photos and recorded everything on video. Fatigue was getting the best of me when I decided to sit down and talk things over. “Marian, you can still go back if you want to live and see tomorrow”.

Then the word endurance rang a bell inside my head. With that, I composed myself and resolved to finish what I started. I thought of Moses climbing up Mt. Sinai to encounter God. “Likewise, I will encounter God when I get there,” I told myself.

People started showing up. All of them tried to talk to me in Korean with a look of disapproval upon their face. To me it meant: “You are getting yourself killed with those groovy suede shoes.” By the way, I was dressed for a picnic; all I know is that we were going to a PARK.

In spite of all the impossibilities I made it to the summit of Mt. Chiak - alive and whole. Some people I met on the way told me my friends were waiting. I searched all over the summit but they were nowhere to be found.

When I reached the other end, I turned and saw a man smiling at me. I asked if he happened to see my friends. Surprisingly, he can speak fluent English. “They most probably went down by now. You can call them,” he said, handing over his phone.

"You can call me Mr. Park," he introduced himself. He’s a Christian, has climbed Mt. Chiak for more than 20 times, went there alone, and still not having his lunch. We ate our lunch and agreed to go down together as the temperature was dropping to freezing cold.

In the middle of our conversation, snow fell over my head for the very first time in my life. It felt like the floodgates of heaven opened up above me and showered down confetti. 

Climbing down Mt. Chiak proved to be the hardest part. If not for Mr. Park I could have fallen down head first. He had everything I needed: spare gloves, spare socks, spare bottle of water, and spare hands to sustain my feeble knees. I have just received the encounter I was hoping for.

"Have you ever experienced that God is alive?" Mr. Park suddenly asked. I held my breath, half-expecting that an angel was about to transform right before my eyes. He didn’t, so I answered, "All the time Mr. Park, I feel that God is alive. All the time."

Jihye & Hyeonju

"You're our first foreign friend," they told me. How it happened is out of the ordinary.

This girl approached me one night in the dorm, wondering if she can borrow some money for dinner. Of course it's in Korean, so i stared at her expression with an equal desperation. "I can't understand Korean," was all that I managed to say.

She translated it to me and promised she'll return it the following night. She did, together with a note and a box of chocolates. Since then I've been waiting for an opportunity to send a reply note to her.

I saw Hyeonju again after a week and gave her the note with my number on it. From then on we always talk in kakao. One time we went out for lunch and she brought Jihye with her. 

Planting Hope Together