Mira Stout - One Thousand Chestnut Trees

Being on a hilltop, his was a many-tiered garden, bordered with stones and flowering pine bushes, che-song-wha. Bright colours vibrated against their deep green setting. Grandfather grew prodigious quantities of pink, white and red peonies, camellias, azaleas, rhododendrons, lilacs, wild beach roses, calla lilies, tiger lilies, white, gold and purple irises. The acacia and wisteria were so heady that the smell made me drunk. There were also the mysterious yellow moonflowers that only blossomed at night. During summer visits my brother, cousins and I told ghost stories at night behind the luminous moonflowers, hiding our faces behind the blossoms, and screaming in the bushes until we were dragged inside to our beds.

Like most Koreans, Grandfather had a deep love of trees. He had a mulberry grove in which which he cultivated silkworms for his tenant farmers to produce silk. He also grew orchards of plum, apple, peach, cherry, pear, and nectarine trees. He had almond and walnut trees, persimmon trees, dates, bamboo, and trellised grapevines, all of which Grandfather complained withstood more hardship from the greedy hands of us childen than from birds or insects. In the autumn it was one of my favourite things to come with my mother and gather fallen chestnuts from beneath the chestnut trees, whose last dying leaves fanned out brilliant orange against the deep blue sky. I loved the earthy smell of the rotting leaves underfoot, and the delight of finding the shining, heavy brown orbs hiding in the damp grass and papery foliage, fishing them out and plunking them into Grandmother’s old straw basket.

Being one of Grandfather Kang’s favourites, I was given the privilege of tending a small row of tiger lilies. These precious lilies I weeded and watered with ostentatious ruthlessness to prove that Grandfather’s trust was not misplaced. Thus began my lifelong love of gardening.

Soon my grandmother, two aunts, and various moppet-headed cousins came out of the house to greet us, amid shouts and laughter. Grandmother, in a cream silk han-bok, was small and deceptively frail-looking, her hair in a tight black bun. Actually, my honoured grandmother was incredibly tough, with a grip like an iron clamp. My aunts, Chosan and Chungsun – thus called by the children because they lived in the nearby towns of Chosan and Chungsun – were dressed more simply in pastel pink and blue linen with white edging.

The elder, Chosan- daek, was fat and newly a Christian, while Chungsun- daek was skinny and underconfident. The beauty of the family, Aunt Pusan, lived a long way away, in the southernmost port of the country, but we were very excited that she was here now, resting indoors from the long railway journey.

Pusan- daek was my favourite aunt, not only because of her easy manner and porcelain beauty, but because she was thrillingly clever and lively. She was also generous; whenever I saw her she let me try on her many pairs of high-heeled shoes and laughed with delight as I clumped round the room in them, turning clumsily to show off the different pumps to their best advantage. I was slightly silly about her shoes, but she never behaved as if I were a nuisance. Although she was as busy as any of my other aunts on her visits, Aunt Pusan always made time to brush my hair tenderly before I went to sleep. This small gesture warmed me to the tips of my toes, and I went to sleep feeling that my head had just been touched by the hands of a fairy princess.

Aunt Pusan had had many proposals of marriage, and ended up marrying the richest and handsomest of the lot. Yet I overheard Grandmother telling my mother that Pusan- daek’s nouveau riche husband had turned out to be too much of a peacock to notice his wife’s qualities. Although, as an uncle, he was senior to me, I thought him a very stupid man indeed.

After the luncheon feast, which my aunts had spent three days preparing, my brother, two boy cousins, Jae-sung and Jae-dal – sons of fat Aunt Chosan – and I announced our intention of going down to the sea, a fifteen minute walk away. However before going off, Jin-ho and I sneaked away to Aunt Pusan’s quarters to catch a glimpse of her, as we had been denied that opportunity during lunch, when Grandmother Kang declared her still too tired to make an appearance.

One of the best things about Grandparents’ rambling, busy household was that we could be naughty for much longer before being discovered. We stood very quietly in the cedar-scented corridor outside Pusan- daek ’s room. A muffled but distinct whimpering sound could be heard. Fortunately for us, the door was open a crack, irresistibly inviting us to look through it.

I gasped and covered my mouth. Jin-ho was shocked too. There, sitting in the corner leaning her head against the wall, was Aunt Pusan, wearing a frightening white canvas coat with her arms wrapped round her body so that she couldn’t move.

Jin-ho and I looked at each other in horror. Neither of us had ever seen a strait-jacket. What had happened? Why was she strapped into this diabolical contraption? Her face was downcast, but even so, you could tell that she was utterly altered; her spirit strangled. She was pale, like a crushed moth.

Tearfully, I ran to my mother, leaving Jin-ho dumbstruck at this extraordinary sight. Mother was in the sunny mulberry grove with Aunt Chosan. They were talking animatedly about the plight of Uncle Yong-lae. I told mother what we’d seen. First she was angry that I had been spying again, but seeing how upset I was, she softened.

‘You are too young to understand, but your aunt is not well. She is so sick that she tries to harm herself.’ I looked at my mother blankly. She sighed.

‘Sometimes, my daughter, after a woman has a baby, she becomes very sad like this. So she must rest in this ugly coat, away from other people who would tire her.’

Aunt Chosan nodded her double chins.

‘But she can’t move, mother!’

‘I know … Now that’s enough, Myung-ja. You are too young to understand such things. Go and play. Do as you are told,’ she said, looking unhappy.

‘But it must make her worse to be alone in that scary thing!’

‘Myung-ja! Do you criticize your grandmother’s wisdom?’

I could not reply.

‘Now, you are not to mention this again. Not to your cousins, not to father or Jin-ho. This is ladies’ business. You must promise to be silent now that I have explained this private matter. This is not for small children’s big-mouthed gossiping.’

I promised, and dragged my feet back to the house. Jin-ho was sitting quietly outside Pusan- daek’s door like a faithful dog. Our aunt was now sleeping sideways on the silk mat, her face still pale, but tranquil. Naturally, I told Jin-ho immediately what mother had said. We drew away sadly from Pusan- daek

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