Summer Vacation

Anne's family was meeting for their annual summer vacation, which I was joining for the first time. The plan was to go to the beach. I was very happy about this as I don't see enough of the sea. We set out for Seosan early on blisteringly hot Saturday morning. The three hour drive was almost uneventful. We lunched at a roadside Chinese restaurant and reached the outskirts of the city when the car lost power and smoke started pouring out of one of the wheel arches. We pulled over and called the rescue service. I was expecting to wait an hour or two, but a tow-truck showed up within twenty minutes. Anne's brother met us at the service station.

Anne shelters from the hot sun while waiting for her poor little car to be towed away.

We left the car in the capable hands of the mechanics. I say that, but they were out having lunch somewhere, so we didn't actually meet them. From there we went to Mongsanpo beach, via two of the family's houses to meet up with other member of the family. When we finally got there we were a group of five children and seven adults.

Mongsanpo beach at low tide, the muddy sand covered in holes made by shell-fish hunters.

It was straight out of the minivan and into the sea, which was pleasantly warm but unpleasantly dirty. The beach was a little crowded, but not overly so. We played in the water for an hour or so before I headed back to get my camera and take a few pictures.

Anne's nieces enjoy the warm waters of the yellow sea.

At around six, we had a picnic. It was all very pleasant and sociable, and it was at this point that the soju started flowing. Korean social culture, particularly where men are concerned, revolves largely around soju, a potent 22% paint thinner that is knocked back in shot glasses. The children headed off to play and left us adults to drink and communicate as best we could.

Anne and her family enjoy a picnic in under the trees a short walk from the beach.

After eating had finished I went off to have a shower, and then went for a walk along the beach again. The sun was getting lower in the sky and most of the people on the beach had gone from swimming to strolling. The atmosphere was calm and relaxed, interrupted only by the loud buzz of the smoke machine on the mosquito truck that was making its rounds.

As the evening comes to a close, an insecticide truck spreads its toxic fumes over the beach.

I met up with Anne, herself fresh from the shower, and we walked together for an hour or so. Every so often a small firework display would start up along the beach. It was all extremely pleasant. Finally, we heading back to pack up and go home. Everything got remembered except my hat, which I think I left on top of the minivan. It was dark when we left, but the beach was still crowded.

Night falls, but the people show no sign of leaving.

We drove back to Anne's mother's house, and were surprised to find that a good number of neighbours were sat around eating and drinking, waiting for us. Anne told me that they were really curious about me. No-one from her village had ever married a foreigner, and some of them had never met a white man. We sat around and drank soju together.

The Jinjanglee village welcoming committee. Anne's mother's neighbours come to say hi.

After about an hour the neighbours left and the family settled down for a quick barbeque. Charcoal was put in an old wheel and small pieces of pork were grilled over the fire. This is Samgyopsal. It's a Korean institution. And of course, we also drank more soju.

It's very late, but that doesn't stop us from having a barbeque: This is summer vacation!

The heat of the day and the soju were beginning to take their toll on me, so it was with some relief that the evening ended and we were driven back to Anne's brothers house, where we spent the night.

The house Anne's father built, and behind, the family graves.

The next day we picked up the car and headed to Anne's mother's house to say goodbye. Anne took me out back to visit her father's grave, and I paid my respects. She later told me that we were supposed to have brought some soju to leave at the grave. I was sorry that we didn't take her father a drink.

Mountains, rice-fields, rivers, young trees and a village form a typical Korean countryside scene.

After a quick tour of the village and a visit to Anne's old schools, we headed home through the Korean countryside.

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