by Axie Oh
An hour and half later we reach our destination. A sign that says National Park sits at the entrance of a large camping ground.
I’m surprised to see ten or so buses are already parked outside the campgrounds. It’s not just SAA that has their annual field trip at this time and location, but other high schools as well.
I’m slow to disembark, mostly because Sori takes her sweet time and she’s in the aisle seat. We’re the last off the bus, accepting our duffels from the driver, plus a shirt from one of the class monitors. Apparently we’re supposed to wear them during the trip so that our chaperones can keep track of us among the many other students present. Already kids are streaming through the entrance to the camping grounds, which is a nature reserve park with a dozen or so buildings and natural and historical sites.
A large map outside the grounds has a key with all the sites listed in Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and English. Besides the cabins, there’s a restaurant, a museum, a recreational facility, a park services building, and a café. There’s also a convenience store, because this is Korea.
The map also features drawings of a few landmarks. In the middle of the map is a bamboo forest and at the top right corner a blue oblong shape with cartoon reeds and frogs is marked with the words Pond of Tranquility.
“Let’s go to the cabin,” Sori says. She’d been studying the map alongside me, probably eyeing the hiking trails. “Floor space is limited. We need to stake our claim.”
I’m not exactly sure what she means until we’re standing outside our assigned cabin, which is more a one-story house built in the traditional Korean structure—or hanok—with a winged rooftop and sliding wood-paneled paper doors, than the log cabins of my childhood.
Similar to how our bus was grouped, our homeroom is combined with Angela and Gi Taek’s homeroom, so the twelve girls of their class are rooming with the twelve girls of ours. Which means twenty-four girls on the floor of a single—albeit long—room.
“This has to be a fire hazard,” I say.
From cabinets on the wall, we each pull out a bedroll and go about “staking our claim” to floor space.
Jina and her friends have already taken the spots closest to the door, presumably to make it easier for them to sneak out at night.
Sori on the other hand beelines for the window. Unfortunately for her, so does another girl. They eye each other before both diving for the same spot. It’s like an episode of Animal Kingdom. I would have teased Sori if Angela and I hadn’t joined in when we saw the girl’s friends backing her up.
When the dust settles, Sori’s by the window with me next to her and Angela horizontal right above our heads. The other girls are at our feet, where they belong. Muahaha.
“Jenny.” Gi Taek calls me over from where he’s standing by the doorway.
At his appearance, a few of the girls scream and cover their chests, though we’re literally all wearing the same outfits we wore on the bus, with none of us having changed into our T-shirts yet. Gi Taek just rolls his eyes.
I head over. “What’s up?”
“We have to sign up for activities. Wanna come with?”
I look over to where Sori is unpacking her duffel with Angela as an attentive audience, explaining each item as she pulls it out.
“Is that a humidifier?”
“Don’t ask.”
I follow Gi Taek out of the hanok into the small courtyard, then out onto a short, dirt path. According to the map, the students are all staying in the Folk Village, which is a replica of houses from the early Joseon period, separated by low stone walls.
“Boys are known to jump the walls at night to visit their girlfriends,” Gi Taek explains, like he’s a tour guide to Korean high-school life. Which I guess he kind of is.
The Folk Village is right next to the central area of the camp where the museum and the parks services building is located, as well as the convenience store and a fairly large outdoor stage.
The majority of the students are congregated here, and now I see why we were all given matching shirts. If it weren’t for the bright-red shirts that are printed with SAA, we’d likely get lost amidst the students from all the different high schools.
A girl in a turquoise and magenta shirt walks by with SPAHS, for Seoul Performing Arts High School, printed on the back. Another boy’s shirt reads: Yongsan Music School. The theme seems pretty straightforward.
Gi Taek leads me to the activity table and picks up a clipboard with a sign-up sheet. After reading it, he hands it over and I flip through the pages. Besides checking in with our homeroom teacher at night and in the morning, we’re pretty much free to do whatever we feel like. A few of the activities have a cap on how many people can go, like white-water rafting and cave exploring. But others, like a two-hour hike to a Buddhist temple, have an unlimited number of spaces.
There’s also a sign-up sheet for a talent show, which will take place during the only mandatory activity, a barbecue dinner for all of the visiting schools.
Gi Taek puts his name down on the sheet for the talent show, with “Dancing” beneath the talent category.
“What about you?” he asks. “Any activities catch your eye?”
“The hike to the Buddhist temple seems pretty cool.”
I hand Gi Taek back the sheet. As he’s browsing, I let my gaze roam my surroundings. Most of the activities don’t start for another hour, so most of the students are either unpacking in their cabins or heading out in groups to explore the nearby sites.
Outside the convenience store, I spot Jaewoo standing with Nathaniel and a few other boys from our class.
I glance around but when I don’t see any sign of Jina, I start walking in his direction. I’ll just ask him what activity he planned on joining. That’s casual enough, right?
I almost make it before two girls dart in front of me. They’re from another school, their T-shirts a flattering midnight-blue color.
“Oppa!” one says, and I narrow my eyes. I doubt she knows him well enough to call him oppa, a familiar term to address older male relatives or friends. “When I found out SAA would be on this field trip,” she continues, “I was so excited. I’m such a big fan of yours. I’m a member of the Kiss and Hug Club.”
All my annoyance and jealousy deflates.
She’s a fan.
And I was about to do something embarrassing, like telling her to back off.
“Thank you,” he says, then smiles.
I can practically sense the girl’s heart stop, only to start beating again, faster, because I’ve felt that same way, when he’s given me that very same smile.
I slowly back up, then turn around, sighing heavily. What if I go this whole field trip and the only time I talk to Jaewoo is at the rest stop?
“Jenny?”
I turn.
A boy stands behind me. At first I don’t immediately place his face. Then I remember. Ian. I met him the first morning I ever spent in Seoul. He gave me his phone number, but with school and Jaewoo, I never got around to texting him.
What is he doing here?
Twenty-Seven
“Ian, hi,” I say, feeling at a little loss for words. Like a few of the students, he’s dressed in a bright-blue shirt. Unlike the students however, he also wears a red armband.
Noticing the direction of my gaze, he explains, “I’m a Yongsan Music School alum so they asked if I’d join as a group leader, a paid gig. Gotta get that cash.”
I remember now. He’s taking the semester off to save up money before returning to college at the Manhattan School of Music.
“How are you?” he asks. “Getting used to the life of a Korean high-school student?”
“Yeah.” I look around. “This field trip is pretty cool.”
“They switch up the locations every year,” he says. “When I was in my third year, we did an overnight stay at this huge Buddhist monastic compound in the mountains. A lot of praying and vegetarian food.”
“Isn’t there a temple here?” I a
sk. “I saw it on the sign-up sheet.”
“Yeah, sort of. There’s a shrine to the local mountain deity or sansin. The park pays for its upkeep.”
“Oh, cool.” Besides Korean school in the basement of the Korean church, I haven’t been to any sort of spiritual place since middle school. It’d be fun to see the shrine.
“There’s also a love story attached to the shrine. Apparently during, like, the Goryeo period, two lovers from rival families made the trek to pray to the shrine, then afterward, disappeared into these mountains and were never seen again.”
I grimace. “That’s bleak.”
“Yeah, well, Koreans love a tragic story. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
I laugh.
“So, like,” he continues, “at the shrine, you can pray to the sansin for general blessings, but most people who visit the shrine ask for something more specific.” He waits, obviously drawing out the story for effect.
“Like what?”
“Love. It’s a famous site for lovers because it’s rumored that the couple actually survived and lived out their lives somewhere, together, protected by the sansin.” He grins. “As you can imagine, it’s a pretty popular spot with students.”
Koreans love a tragic story, but what we love even more is a hopeful one.
He kicks a stone and it skitters a few feet before disappearing into a patch of grass. “We could go, if you want.”
I blink, then blink again.
I don’t know how to react. I don’t know how to feel. I mean, I know how I feel. Flattered that he asked me, but also a little bit guilty. He must think I’m single. I mean, Jaewoo and I never talked about our relationship status after the kiss, but . . .
“Jaewoo-seonbae!” someone yells from close behind me. I’m tempted to turn, then I recall why I was walking away in the first place, so that I don’t draw attention to Jaewoo and myself.
“Jenny?” Ian frowns.
“Sorry. Yes. I mean, I was thinking of signing up for that activity anyway, sort of like a counterbalance to spending all those hours on the bus. Don’t you have . . . uh . . . prior obligations, like with your job?”
“We haven’t been assigned activities. I’ll request that one. I’m sure I’ll get it. The other chaperones are teachers, and not a lot of them want to go climbing in the mountains.”
“Okay,” I say. When he continues to stare at me, waiting for more, I add, “I’ll sign up for that one.”
“Awesome. See you in an hour!” He waves, then heads off in the direction of the park services building.
“Who’s the guy? He’s cute.” I nearly jump out of my sneakers. Sori’s sidled up to me, her cat eyes zeroing on Ian’s departure.
“An older man, Jenny?” Gi Taek’s also appeared, giving his best impression of a smarmy sneer, wiggling his eyebrows.
“His name’s Ian. I met him at a café my first day in Seoul.”
“You’re like a cute boy magnet,” Gi Taek says, then pauses. “The cutest boy, of course, being me.”
Angela giggles, having walked over with Sori.
“Yo, Jenny Go!” Nathaniel practically tackles me. I turn to see if Jaewoo walked over with him, but he’s still standing with the girls from earlier, except now there are two more girls and a boy.
“Did you choose your activity for the day?” Nathaniel asks. “I was thinking of doing some white-water rafting. There’s nothing like the thrill of drowning to complete a school bonding experience.”
I sigh. “I was thinking of hiking.”
“I’ll join you,” Sori says.
Nathaniel’s eyes dart toward her, a small frown on his face, but then quickly lock onto Gi Taek and Angela. “Well, what about you two? Don’t let me down!”
“It’s not exactly my style,” Gi Taek says, “but I guess I can give it a try.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“I did pack a swimsuit,” Angela says, then glances at Sori and me, her expression guilty.
“Don’t mind us,” Sori says, her voice soothing. “We’ll see each other at the barbecue.”
Nathaniel narrows his eyes at Angela, clearly jealous that Sori is being so nice to Angela when she’s always so snarky to . . . well, everyone else. If Angela doesn’t watch out, she might find herself treading water during this rafting trip.
“What about Jaewoo?” Sori asks casually.
“Dunno,” Nathaniel says. “He’ll probably sign up for whatever his fans want. He’s a sucker.”
“Where are your fans?” Gi Taek drawls.
Nathaniel doesn’t miss a beat. “According to online polls, I’m more popular with foreigners. Maybe it’s my sex appeal and spirit of spontaneity.”
Sori rolls her eyes.
“You’re probably just too annoying for Koreans,” Gi Taek says laughing.
An hour later, Sori and I are standing beside the entrance to the hiking path. A wooden sign staked into the ground reads: “Trail to Sansin.” I stare enviously at Sori’s hiking boots and a windbreaker, which she pulled from her seemingly bottomless bag of outfits, as I hug my LACHSA zip-up hoodie a little tighter. It may be school-disloyal, but at least it’s warm.
“Attention, everyone!” Ian walks over, having changed into a loose jacket over shorts and carrying a large backpack. “Let me introduce myself. My name’s Ian. I’m the group leader for this activity. We’ll spend about forty-five minutes walking to the shrine, thirty minutes there, and about thirty minutes walking back downhill. If at any time, anyone feels light-headed or dizzy, please let me know. I have extra water bottles, energy bars, and bananas. I also have this.” He holds up a walkie-talkie. “We can get a cart up here to take you to medical. Any questions? No? Then, lets—”
“Wait!” Two girls rush up the path from the campsite, on either side of . . .
Jaewoo! My heart swells. He’s changed from the loose button-up to the SAA T-shirt, which he wears beneath his own windbreaker. The girls I recognize as part of the group that was standing with him earlier.
“Okay, now I think that everyone’s,” Ian says. “Let’s move out!”
I wonder if Nathaniel told him what activity I’d signed up for, and that’s why he decided to join this one.
The students start to break into twos and threes to accommodate for the narrow trail. Immediately a boy from another class engages Sori in conversation, while even more girls encircle Jaewoo.
Resentment curdles in my chest. Even if he is here, it’s not like I can walk up to him.
“Jenny.” I drag my gaze away from Jaewoo to where Ian’s hung back to wait for me. Resigned to my fate, I join him. “So,” Ian says, as we start up the trail. “I checked my messages and noticed I never got a text from you.”
That’s an odd way of putting it, as if he had thought I texted him. How many girls does he give his phone number out to?
“Sorry, school started, and I . . .”—forgot, really—“wanted to concentrate on my music.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, “SAA has a showcase at the end of the semester, right? I know a kid who was accepted into MSM immediately following his performance. Like, the rep in the audience came up to him and gave him a verbal acceptance.”
“Seriously? Wow,” I say. “That’s amazing.” My pulse quickens at the thought.
Though I feel a smidgen of worry. I haven’t been concentrating on my music, not really, not to the extent that I had in LA. I’ve been distracted with school, and my friends, and, well, Jaewoo. But I resolve now that once we return to campus, I’ll step up my game, sign up for more practice time, and maybe schedule a video session with Eunbi.
“Ian-ssi?” A girl calls over to him from where she and her friends are looking over a ridge. “What kind of plant is that?”
“I guess I should go do my job,” Ian says, leaving my side to answer the girl.
As we make our way up the mountain the hike becomes a bit more arduous, the path taking us up a sharp incline and over grassy boulders, and once across a bustlin
g stream, silver fish slipping over rocks that sparkle beneath the afternoon sun. Past the stream is a dense forest, the path harder to make out against the leaf-strewn ground, overgrown with moss and the roots of trees.
I’m up front, walking beside Sori, when the path we’d been heading up levels off, and there it is, a small shrine.
It’s tucked against the side of a mountain, an elegant wooden structure, small in stature, painted predominantly green and red, with a single room and a gentle, sloping roof.
For how deep it is in the mountains, the shrine and its surrounding area is well-kept, the clearing swept of debris and all of the features of the building—the wood and paper doors, the little stone decorative figures on the rooftop—are intact. There’s even the subtle smell of incense emanating from within the shrine, as if a visiting monk had only just left.
Everyone either rushes off to explore the area, taking selfies with the few stone statues that stand sentinel around the clearing, or collapses onto the ground out of sheer exhaustion from the last leg of the hike.
“I have to use the bathroom,” Sori of the Small Bladder says as she makes her way toward a tiny building at the edges of the clearing. I look around for Jaewoo, but I don’t spot him anywhere. The girls who’d been with him earlier are also looking around, brows furrowed.
Ian stands by the shrine, calling out instructions. “Let’s keep the number of people in the shrine to two to three people at a time, four at the most.” He then starts to turn in my direction.
In a sort of panic, I sprint behind the closest building. Crouching down, I glance around the corner to see Ian approaching. Oh my God, I feel ridiculous. Am I really hiding from him? Still crouched, I start to back up and bump into someone.
“Hey, watch it.”
I twist around and almost fall over. “Jaewoo!” I hiss. “What are you doing?”
“I think . . .” he says slowly, “I’m doing exactly what you’re doing.”
From the other side of the shrine, I can hear the girls shouting. “Jaewoo! Jaewoo-oppa! Where are you?”
