From Seoul to You

The hot water coming out of the spigot poured directly onto the hard, dry noodles coated in spicy powder. As the water filled the reinforced paper bowl, designed specifically for this task, the noodles began to soften and the dried vegetables started to rehydrate. Within minutes, the unmistakable aroma of spicy ramyun filled the air.

All around us, people were doing the same thing.

Plastic lids popped open. Chopsticks snapped apart. Someone nearby shouted excitedly when their noodles were finally ready.

“Oh, this is so cool!” I squealed as Minjae gave me a bowl and proceeded to fill his own.

“Yes, it is the best!” Minjae agreed, picking up the bag of snacks we had bought at the convenience store.

We followed the stream of people back toward our mat.

The crowds at the Han River today were enormous.

It was the annual Yeouido Fireworks Festival¹, and people had been arriving since early in the day to claim their spots. Some had apparently come even earlier, leaving mats behind to save their place. By the time we arrived, the grass along the river was covered in little islands of people.

Couples sat shoulder to shoulder under umbrellas. Families had spread out enormous picnic mats and brought enough food to feed themselves for several days. Groups of university students laughed together, taking pictures and passing around drinks. Tourists wandered through the crowds, craning their necks toward the river and the skyline, trying to figure out where the fireworks would appear.

There were folding chairs, picnic tables, coolers, blankets, portable fans, umbrellas, strollers and enough convenience-store bags to stock a small supermarket.

The farther we walked toward the river, the harder it became to find an open patch of grass.

Police officers and event staff were stationed along the paths, directing the flow of people and keeping pedestrians moving. Every so often, a voice came over a loudspeaker reminding everyone to watch their belongings and follow the designated routes.

The Han River itself stretched dark and wide beyond the crowds, reflecting the lights of the bridges and the buildings on the opposite bank.

The city seemed to rise directly out of the water.

Seoul was everywhere tonight.

And everyone seemed to know that something special was about to happen.

There was an electricity in the air that I couldn’t quite explain. People were excited even though the fireworks hadn’t started yet. Children ran around until their parents called them back. Couples took selfies with the river behind them. Friends shouted to each other over the growing noise.

Even the people who weren’t talking seemed to be waiting for something.

I understood why people came back every year.

This wasn’t just watching fireworks.

It was an event.

Settling onto our mat, Minjae and I gleefully grabbed our chopsticks and pulled the noodles up to our faces.

Loud slurping sounds ensued.

The spicy broth warmed me from the inside as the balmy September evening settled around us. The air smelled like ramyun, fried chicken, grilled meat, sunscreen, grass and the faint, unmistakable scent of the river.

“You are so loud when you eat,” I teased, quietly slurping my noodles as Minjae’s much more enthusiastic sounds filled the air.

“It’s the Korean way,” Minjae shrugged after letting out a loud sigh of satisfaction.

“I noticed that my students do that, too,” I mused. “And they chew with their mouths open. They look like little goats munching on hay.”

Minjae stopped eating.

He looked at me carefully.

“Is it a problem?”

Flustered, I stammered, “N-no. It’s just kind of funny to me, I guess. My mom always told me to eat with my mouth closed, so I thought that was how everyone did it.”

Minjae reached out and patted my head before attacking his noodles again.

Crap. Did I say the wrong thing again?

It had been nearly six weeks since our summer vacation, and I still hadn’t asked Minjae what his “business trip” had actually been about.

I didn’t want to.

It was easier to leave it alone.

After all, hadn’t Minjae been the perfect boyfriend in every way?

What reason did I have to doubt him?

I had read so many stories on Facebook and Reddit pages about expat and immigrant women dating Korean men and finding out they were being cheated on or ghosted unceremoniously.

Minjae didn’t do any of those things.

He hadn’t stopped texting me.

He wasn’t mysteriously unavailable.

He didn’t disappear for days.

He didn’t mistreat me.

Maybe the person messaging him was just a friend or close relative after all.

It wasn’t my business.

Right?

I grabbed the bright green bag of Yangpa Rings² and pulled on each side to open it.

It didn’t budge.

Puzzled, and a little embarrassed, I tried pulling again.

Still nothing.

I frowned at the bag.

I could hear Minjae chuckling.

I looked up.

Minjae took the bag from me and tugged at the corner instead.

It opened immediately.

“How the heck?” I said, bewildered.

“How the heck have you lived in Korea for seven months now and still don’t know how to open a bag of chips?” he teased, taking a couple of rings and handing the bag back to me.

“I don’t know,” I said a little more hotly than I anticipated. “I just never paid attention when you opened them before, I guess.”

“You don’t pay attention to a lot of things,” Minjae agreed, munching on his chips.

I don’t pay attention to a lot of things, huh?

Like what?

I shrugged and attacked the Yangpa Rings bag.

What I wanted to pay attention to were these yummy snacks.

The sun had begun to sink lower over the river. The light softened across the water, turning the glassy surface silver and gold. Across the Han, the buildings were beginning to glow one by one.

People around us were settling in for the long wait.

A little girl in a pink dress ran past carrying a glowing toy. Somewhere behind us, someone opened a can with a sharp pssst. A group of college-aged friends started singing along to music playing from a portable speaker.

The farther we got into the evening, the less the park felt like a park.

It felt like an entire temporary city had sprung up along the river.

And then—

“MJ Oppa!”

An excited voice called over the noise of the crowds.

I snapped my head up.

A woman was weaving through the mats toward us.

Another foreigner.

And a beautiful one, too.

My mind immediately began racing.

How did Minjae know this woman?

Did he know a lot of other foreigners?

And were they all women?

Why had he never mentioned that he had friends who were foreigners?

Friends that I could have gotten to know, too?

Minjae stood up as she approached.

“Hi, Savannah!”

They embraced quickly and let go.

I got to my feet as well.

Savannah turned her blue eyes toward me and smiled with perfect white teeth.

“You must be Violet! Minjae told me all about you. Hi!”

She hugged me, and I politely let her.

Now I was thoroughly confused.

“Oh, hi. How do you guys know each other?”

The question escaped before I could think about how it sounded.

Savannah playfully punched Minjae in the arm.

“Minjae! How could you not tell her about your friends, eh? We met at university when he studied abroad in Canada!”

Studied abroad in Canada?

“Oh, like an exchange semester or something?” I asked, hoping my question sounded innocent.

“Nah, for the full four years!” Savannah laughed. “Minjae, you didn’t tell her?”

Minjae looked at me.

“Oh.”

That was it.

Just oh.

“Oh, that explains why his English is so good,” I said, beaming at him. “You must have studied really hard!”

Savannah tossed her long blonde hair back.

“Well, that and growing up in California would definitely help!”

I froze.

Minjae laughed and shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess.”

California?

I looked at him.

Growing up in California?

But I thought he had never lived outside Korea.

“Did you come here by yourself, Sav?” Minjae asked.

“No, no. I came here with my boyfriend. Do you remember Jun from Cleo’s party?”

Didn’t he say he never left Korea?

Savannah continued talking, but I barely heard her.

My brain was moving too quickly.

Canada.

California.

Four years.

University.

How had I not known any of this?

Laughter erupted as Savannah and Minjae shared a joke that I didn’t understand.

That I couldn’t hear because something here wasn’t quite right.

“Violet?”

Savannah’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Do you mind if we join you?”

I looked around.

I hadn’t realized until then that she wasn’t alone.

A tall Korean man had sidled up beside her.

He had a long wolf-cut and intense monolid eyes that went so well with his sharp features. He was impeccably dressed in a black AMI Paris shirt and dark blue jeans. The black leather messenger bag he carried screamed luxury.

“U-Um, sure,” I finally managed, looking at what had once been a comfortable space for Minjae and me.

It was going to be a tight squeeze with two more people.

“Great!” Savannah said.

She and Jun settled onto the mat.

I sat next to Minjae.

But I was somewhere else entirely.

The fireworks hadn’t even started yet, but something inside me had already begun exploding.

The sky finally darkened.

A hush rippled through the crowd as people turned toward the river.

Phones appeared everywhere.

Children were lifted onto parents’ shoulders.

Couples leaned against one another.

Someone nearby counted down the final seconds.

Then the first firework shot upward.

A brilliant burst of light exploded over the Han River.

The entire crowd erupted.

For a few seconds, I forgot everything.

The sky filled with color.

Gold spilled downward like rain. Red and white bursts opened one after another, reflected in the dark water below. Every explosion illuminated the faces around me before disappearing into the night.

The crowd gasped.

Cheered.

Applauded.

And then another firework exploded.

And another.

But even with all of Seoul glowing above me, I couldn’t stop thinking about Canada.

California.

Four years.

And everything else Minjae hadn’t told me.

This hangout on the Han is quite… illuminating.

1. Yeouido Fireworks Festival (여의도 불꽃축제, Yeouido Bulkkot Chukje) — One of Seoul’s most popular annual fireworks events, held along the Han River in Yeouido. The festival traditionally takes place in late September or early October, filling the night sky with elaborate fireworks displays from international teams. It draws enormous crowds who gather along the river and in nearby parks, making it a quintessential Seoul autumn outing for couples, friends, and families. ↩︎
2. Yangpa Rings (양파링, yangpa ring) — A popular Korean snack made from crispy, ring-shaped corn puffs with a savory onion flavor. The name yangpa (양파) means “onion” in Korean, while ring refers to the snack’s distinctive shape. Yangpa Rings are a nostalgic everyday snack in Korea and can commonly be found in convenience stores, supermarkets, and snack aisles. ↩︎