The Kim family album

My daughter came from Seoul on the 8th, with a visa from Almaty and a bus to the Chu Gate, and she cried at the border, she told me, at the stamp. She had not been home since 2019.

She brought: Korean chili flakes (the real ones, in a bag that smelled like a fire), three kinds of seaweed, a rice cooker that plays a tune, a bottle of ginseng drink for me, and presents for everyone's children. I brought out the ceramic jar from the cellar, and for nine days our house was a factory. We made two jars of kimchi, one with the round cabbage and the old recipe, and one with Seoul chili flakes. Nelli and Vika stood at the table, and I was the one who carried.

Vika tasted both and said: "Appa, your family's one is better." Then: "But do not tell my Seoul friends." She laughed. In the evening she took the shoe box out of the cupboard and went through all 212 photographs with a pencil and a notebook, writing the names she knew. This is why 39 became 61.

I did not know that it was the last time for a while. If someone had told me, I would have asked her to stay another day. I think she knew. At the bus station she gave me the rice cooker and said: "Appa, it plays a tune when the rice is ready. Listen for me."