Gathering of Pearls

by Sook Nyul Choi

  "Yes, I don't like it," I replied, noticing the high price tag. What little pocket money I had brought from home would be almost gone if I bought this. I had already spent a lot on transportation yesterday, and I still needed to buy books for class. It had been hard for Mother to save the small sum she had given me when I left. My airplane ticket and the clothes and other things Mother had bought for me had cost a great deal. I think Mother borrowed money from our relatives to pay for these things, and I knew she and my brothers would not be able to send me any more money from home. As a scholarship student, the college covered my tuition, and room and board. In return, however, I was to work fifteen hours a week in the college dining hall as scholarship work, and was required to earn good grades in all my courses and to meet the social, moral, and religious standards of the school. I would have to figure out some way to earn pocket money on the side.

  "Sookan, what do you mean?" Ellen asked, looking very puzzled. "'Yes, you like it' or 'no, you don't like it.' Which is it?"

  "I mean I do not like it," 1 said, sorry to be disagreeable. I felt embarrassed, and worried that I had hurt her feelings. I wondered why Ellen had asked me what I meant. Then, as she busily searched for another pattern, I realized that I had made a mistake when answering her. I was still thinking in Korean. No wonder she was confused!

  I smiled at my own mistake and said, "Ellen, I am sorry that my answer was confusing to you. I am trying to speak in English, but my thoughts are still in Korean. In Korean, the proper way to answer your question is to say 'Yes, you are right that I do not like it.' It is confusing for me to keep all the English grammar rules straight. I am sorry I did not like your choice."

  "Oh, don't worry. If you don't like it, just say no, no matter how the question is asked. English is simple!"

  But it was not simple. Everything seemed so different here—not only the language, but the way of thinking, too.

  "Come on," Ellen said, "I'm sure we can find something we both like." I felt like giving her a hug. Instead, I busied myself looking at various curtains and desk sets. Ellen seemed to like bright colors, so I suggested a print that had a bright floral pattern against a beige background. Ellen was pleased, and we picked out everything to match, even the wastebasket. Color coordination seemed a serious matter to Ellen. Her outfits matched right down to her nail polish and earrings. I wondered what Ellen must think of me, in my simple gray skirt, white blouse, and functional loafers.

  I was eager to return to school to look at the course catalog, but Ellen insisted that we stop for sodas. As we sat drinking our ginger ales, other college students that Ellen knew came in, and she introduced me to all of them. They were upperclassmen that Ellen had met during orientation week. They had come up to school early to help the incoming freshmen. Ellen showed them all the things we had bought, and they congratulated us on our wonderful choices. How comfortable they all were talking to each other. Seniority and age difference did not seem to matter to them at all. It was so different from Korea, where younger people had to use honorific terms and bow formally when addressing upperclassmen.

  When the waiter brought the bill, I immediately reached for it and offered to pay. "No, no, don't be silly," Ellen said. "We'll go Dutch." I didn't know what she meant by "Dutch" and just stared at her with surprise.

  "We'll go Dutch ... you know, we'll split the bill. Okay, Sookan?"

  "Is it all right to do that? I mean, is it all right among good friends?" I asked, feeling rather hurt.

  "Sure. It's best that way. We can go out as often as we want without worrying about whose turn it is to pay. All good friends do that here."

  "Oh," I said. "I will have to get used to that, too."

  "What do you mean?" Ellen asked.

  "In Korea, we don't even have such a word as 'Dutch.' One is either the host or the guest. Good friends always take turns treating each other. Each time the bill comes, we all fight over it because we never can remember who paid the time before." I thought fondly of the last time my best friend Bokhi and I had grappled over the bill.

  "American style is so much simpler. It's less confusing, and saves time, don't you think?" Ellen smiled proudly. Everything seemed to be easy to her. I could see her point, I suppose, but it felt almost too simple and too practical; it seemed almost cold. I wondered if I would get used to this. I wondered which way was better.

  While we were waiting for the bus with the older girls from school, they started talking to me and asking me all about Korea. Everyone was curious about me and where I came from. I was happy to be making friends, and eagerly answered all their questions. As the bus made its way through the busy streets of downtown White Plains, we began to speak of the college dorm rules, the nuns, the professors, and the courses we would like to take.

  By the time I got back to school, I had made friends with several sophomores, juniors, and even some seniors. As I was saying goodbye, Ellen yanked me by the arm and said, "Come on, Sookan. Let's get our room set up!"

  Chapter Three

  The assistant dean recommended that I select a light course load for my first semester. She suggested music appreciation and a studio art class. But I signed up for world literature, world religions, Greek and Roman culture, and early European history. I knew it would be difficult for me, and that I would have to study many more hours than my classmates because of my poor command of English. But armed with what had quickly become my constant companions, my English-Korean and Korean-English dictionaries, I was determined to get through these classes.

  My most difficult course was European history, and 1 always stayed late afterward to copy everything off the board. One morning, as I was busy finishing up my notes, I heard someone say, "Here you are. You'll miss lunch again if you don't hurry." I looked up and saw Marci, who lived in the single room across the hall from Ellen and me.

  "Hi, Marci," I said. She smiled timidly back at me. I had caught her staring at me several times over the past few weeks, but each time our eyes met, she would look away. Just the day before, I had run into her on my way back from morning Mass. She had her camera slung over one shoulder, so I said with a smile, "Good morning, Marci. It is a wonderful day for pictures. The sun is so bright today that it makes everything sparkle!" She just nodded, then walked quickly away. I had felt embarrassed and confused. I knew she was a bit shy, but she could have said something to me. Maybe she thought I was silly.

  I had watched her walk up the hill with her camera swinging at her side, and thought how wonderful it would be to go for a morning walk and take photos. The campus was so picturesque with the leaves just starting to turn. I wondered if Marci had gotten a picture of the sunrise. I thought of my little camera still tucked away in my suitcase. It was Jaechun's prized possession, yet he had loaded it with film and given it to me, telling me to take some pictures for him as soon as I arrived at school. But there had been no time. I had barely managed to jot a few words on a postcard to tell Mother that I had arrived safely.

  "Do you have time for lunch today?" Marci asked. "I saw you in here late yesterday, too."

  Still surprised that Marci had stopped by to get me, I answered, "Yes, I always have to stay late to finish my notes. But I think I have everything written down. Okay, let's eat."

  Marci was tall and thin, and very pale. Her short, straight brown hair was carelessly tucked behind her ears, and she wore no makeup. Her clothes hung loosely from her thin frame. I thought she was very pretty, though, in a sporty, almost boyish way. She was so different from Ellen.

  "Here, let me carry some of those," she said, as she watched me piling my books in my arms. "Don't you want to drop off some of these books? I can take some back to your room for you."

  "No, I will need all of them later in the day. I do not have time to walk back to the room. I have class after class, and then I have to do my scholarship work, and afterward, I have to get in as much studying as I can. It takes me a long time to read what they assign. Once I leave my room in the morning, I do not
go back until the library closes. And I am still behind in my studies!"

  As we headed across campus, Ellen, walking with three other girls, spotted us and called out to me. "Long time no see! Come sit with us. I'll save you a seat."

  I waved back and smiled. She was right. Though we were roommates, we barely saw each other. I was up and out of the room before Ellen's alarm clock went off, and I usually got back just in time to get ready for lights out. Except for the few words we exchanged in the evening, I only really got to see her if we ran into each other in the dining hall.

  "You're so popular, Sookan," Marci said. "I don't know how you manage it all. Do you like it here?"

  "Yes, it's exciting to be here, meeting people and learning so many different things. But it's still difficult for me to express what I am thinking, and it takes me so long to get my reading and studying done. My head hurts by the end of the day. It is hard to think in English all day long, and I know I sound funny."

  "You sound just fine. You've adjusted perfectly. I'm the one who looks and sounds awkward all the time." Marci looked down at her feet. "Like yesterday morning when I saw you. I didn't know what to say. Please don't think that I was ignoring you," she said with a pained smile.

  "No, do not worry about that," I said, feeling petty for having felt hurt. "I am happy you came to find me today. I think that it's just harder for you to get to know people since you do not have a roommate. Why do you have a single room?"

  "Oh, I requested it because I like to read at all hours," she said. "I want to major in classics."

  As Marci and I passed The Castle to go to the dining hall, I suddenly remembered that I had to run up to the job placement office on the second floor to see if I could find some extra work. I had checked a couple of times and hadn't found anything. I needed a job on or near campus in order to fit it in with my scholarship work and my class schedule.

  "Marci, I'm sorry but I need to see Miss Mullen about something. Would you mind if I meet you at the dining hall later on? Would you please tell Ellen that I will see her later, too?"

  "All right," Marci said, looking disappointed. I stood for a minute and watched her round the corner toward the dining hall. How I wished that I had the time to join Marci, to introduce her to Ellen and sit lunching and chatting with them. Unlike Ellen, who was always surrounded by friends, Marci was alone whenever I saw her. I felt sad and frustrated that I didn't have time for her. It must have taken a lot of effort on her part to come and ask me to lunch.

  I rushed up the winding marble stairs toward the administration offices. I needed to check in with Miss Mullen, the job placement officer, to see if she had found me a job.

  "Oh," Miss Mullen said as I walked through the door, "I was just going to leave a message for you at your dorm, Sookan. Would you be interested in baby-sitting for the Bennetts? Maybe you met Professor Bennett's children, Jimmy and Sarah, during orientation week?"

  "No, I was late getting here," I said. "But I am in Professor Bennett's world literature class."

  "How could I have forgotten about your brave journey! Sister Reed hasn't stopped talking about how courageous and delightful you are. She is so proud of you."

  I blushed, and tears welled up in my eyes. I was relieved to know that Sister Reed thought I was doing all right, and I was grateful to Miss Mullen for telling me so.

  "Jane Bennett and I are close friends," she continued. "She and her husband often go into New York City on the weekends and need a baby-sitter for Jimmy and Sarah. I thought it might suit you to work on weekends instead of during the week, and they do live right on campus. They are a lovely family. I really think it will work out splendidly for everyone."

  "Thank you, Miss Mullen. May I know when they need me?" I felt a bit nervous. Professor Bennett was my favorite professor, and baby-sitting for his children seemed rather overwhelming. I thought, What if the children get bored or don't like me?

  "They need you this Saturday, but I'll have to leave you a message as to the time."

  "Thank you, Miss Mullen," I said again, as I rushed down the stairs.

  On the bench by the door was Marci. "I knew you would miss lunch," she said. "The cafeteria just closed. I didn't feel like eating there without you, so I went to the snack bar and got us two ham sandwiches. Is that okay with you? And don't worry about Ellen. I stopped by and told her you couldn't join her today."

  I was speechless. All that effort Marci had made for me!

  "Let's go eat our sandwiches. Would you like to see my favorite spot on campus?" Marci led me down a narrow path behind The Castle. We climbed a small knoll and took our places beneath the willow tree there, in the shade of its cascading branches. We ate our sandwiches in silence, but smiled broadly at each other. We were just behind the post office building, but this spot somehow seemed private and distant from the activity of the campus.

  I wanted to break the silence and share something with her. "The last time I felt this peaceful," I said, "was when I was with my best friend, Bokhi, in Seoul. It was such a short time ago, but now it seems an eternity away. I wonder how she is. She had been coming over to our house often, not only to see me and my mother, but to see my brother Hyunchun. She has quite a crush on him. Hyunchun is the third oldest of my four brothers. He is tall and handsome, and very outgoing. I think he likes Bokhi, too. He used to just think of her as a little girl, his little sister's friend. But lately, he seems to be realizing what a pretty young woman she is."

  "Do you think they'll get married?"

  "Oh, I can't tell about those things. It's really up to the older generation. I think my mother would be happy if they married, because she likes Bokhi. But there are a lot of issues to consider. 'Love alone does not make for a good marriage.'" I had heard that adage so often in Korea.

  "Do you have brothers and sisters, Marci?" I asked after a pause.

  "Just my older sister, Susan. She lives in California with her husband, Bud. I see them once a year when they come back East. But my sister and I are very different. We don't have much to say to each other."

  "Oh!" I said, a bit taken aback by her candidness. "I have never spent much time with my sister either. She is a nun, and entered the convent about fifteen years ago, when I was very little. With the wars, there were times when I did not see my sister for a couple years at a time. But lately, we had been going to see her once a month. She is the oldest of the six of us, and we are very proud of her. She teaches and does a lot of work in Seoul for the needy. Her work is very rewarding, she says. Everyone who knows her admires her. Ever since I was little, she has told me that she wants me to work alongside her, and lead a worthy and fulfilling life as she does." I paused, remembering.

  "I feel terrible for not writing her. She told me I should keep a journal and write in it every day to reflect on all my new experiences. She wanted me to send her my journal entries once a week instead of writing a separate letter, but I haven't even had a chance to start the journal yet. I know she must be disappointed with me."

  "Did you really tell her you would do that? I certainly wouldn't want anyone reading my journal," Marci said, seeming rather confounded.

  "Well, she asked me to, and she is my older sister. She says she doesn't want us to grow apart; she wants us to share everything. It's just that I am so busy, and there is so much that is new and different around me ... I can't possibly write everything down every day. I want to obey her, but it's been hard lately."

  "Well, you shouldn't feel guilty about it. You are doing so much already. Everyone is amazed at what you are managing as it is."

  I was moved by her vehemence. "Oh, thank you, Marci, for saying that. Thank you for the lunch, too. I'm afraid I must get going to my next class now. And 1 need to stop by the post office to mail another card to my mother."

  "I'd better check my mailbox, too, though I doubt anyone will write me. I've lived in Scarsdale all my life and most people I know are a ten-minute drive away."

  Marci shrugged her shoulders, th
en added quickly, "Sookan, I have my car here. Why not come home with me this Saturday? We can study together."

  "Oh, Marci, I wish I could, but I have to work this weekend," I said, feeling sorry for myself.

  "What kind of work?" Marci asked.

  "Baby-sitting. I need to earn some book money," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed about having to talk about money. I didn't like sounding so poor and desperate.

  "It'll be fun," Marci said calmly. "And you can come home with me anytime. Come on, let's swing by the post office."

  Chapter Four

  I stared at the unopened letter from Mother. It felt strange to see my own handwriting on the envelope. The night before I left Seoul, I had stayed up all night attending to last-minute details. One of these was to stamp and address twenty envelopes to myself. Mother did not know English, and I wanted her to feel free to write me without having to ask my brothers to address the envelopes for her. I knew how Mother hated imposing on her children. She always said that young people have their own worries, and that her job was to see that her children had the time to live their own lives.

  She was very different from the other mothers I knew. She never talked of filial duty, of the obligations we had to our elders and our ancestors. One of Mother's favorite sayings was "Just as water runs down, so does love." She felt responsible for setting a good example, and just as she loved us, she expected us to love each other, and our children.

  She never complained about her hardships, and instead said, "One cannot live looking up. One must look down to those less fortunate and must help them. One has to appreciate what one has in life." With Father gone, she struggled to make ends meet with the little money my brothers were able to earn. And yet, she was always there to help those less fortunate.

  This flood of memories overwhelmed me. I longed for my mother. I missed her quiet smile that always seemed to fill me with strength. I felt guilty that I was not by her side. I slowly opened her letter.