울산에서 인천까지 가는 동안 모든 시간이 적절했습니다. 월요일 아침 일찍 집에서 UA 탑승을 위한 온라인 체크인을 하고, 9시에 집을 나서는 시간도 적절했습니다. 울산역에서의 기차 시간도, 광명역에서 내려 공항리무진을 타는 시간도, 그리고 인천공항에 도착해서 탑승권을 받고 짐을 실려 보내고, 휴대폰 로밍과 환전을 하고, 70세가 넘었다고 교통약자 우선 통로로 들어가 출국수속을 마치고, 2 시간 정도 쉬는 모든 시간이 너무도 적절해서, 정말 우리를 위해서 많은 분들이 기도를 하고 있다는 것이 실감 났습니다. 광명역에 기차가 조금 연착해서 12분이 아니라 15분에 도착했지만, 10시 30분 공항리무진을 타는 시간도 충분했습니다. 다만 예약한 좌석을 보여주었더니 뭔가 잘못이 ㅠㅠ 같은 시간 어제 날짜였습니다.
참으로 편리해진 대한민국입니다. 이제는 휴대폰으로 모든 예약이 되는 세상입니다. KTX 기차도 쾌적한 수준이고, 리무진 버스의 좌석은 비행기의 비즈니스 좌석 못지 않게 편안했습니다. 다만 옛날에 비해 서로에 대한 관심이 사라진 것은 분명했습니다. 기차에서도, 버스에서도, 인천공항에서도, 비행기 안에서도 그러한 느낌은 뚜렷해졌습니다. 불필요한 타자의 관심에서 벗어난다는 좋은 면도 있지만, 다른 면에서는 사람에 대한 뭔가 따뜻한 정이 사라지니 아쉽기도 합니다. 옛날 시골 버스의 복잡함도, 완행기차의 훈훈한 인정도 이제는 더 이상 찾을 수 없습니다. 사람들은 각자 자기 목적지를 향하여, 자기 목적을 따라서 종종걸음을 내딛습니다. 사업 차, 여행 차, 휴가 차, 무더운 여름이지만 발걸음은 멈추지 않습니다.
이번 여행의 특별한 기억은 아무래도 아시아나 라운지에서 오후 2시부터 4시까지 두 시간 가까이 아내와 보낸 시간 같습니다. 오랜만에 만난 사람처럼 긴 대화를 나눌 수 있어서 감사했습니다. (아는 사람은 알지만 사실 우리는 좀 바쁘게 살고 있나 봅니다) 모처럼 서로를 바라보며 우리네 살림살이, 아들들의 미래, 친구들의 근황 등 기도 제목을 나누었습니다. 특히 아내는 방학을 한 기분이라고 좋아했습니다. 일상적인 가사에서뿐만 아니라 빈번한 손님 접대, 꽃밭과 텃밭 가꾸기의 노동에서부터 해방을 받았으니 그 기분을 알만 합니다. 물론 날씨는 마지막까지 아쉬웠습니다. 꼭 한 시간만이라도 장마철 비처럼 쏟아졌다면 떠나는 마음이 좀 편했을 텐데 말입니다. 그러나 이제 모두 하늘에 맡기고 나도 방학 모드로 진입하는 길 말고는 선택이 없습니다.
10시간 반 가까운 인천 샌프란시스코의 여정은 이제 겨우 세 시간이 흘렀습니다. 그러니 이번 두 아들네 집을 방문해서 무엇을 할까 이런저런 생각을 해 봅니다. 부모이지만 방문자요 손님이니 착하게 살아야 하겠습니다. 그 뜨거운 여름 햇살을 피해서 땅을 가꾸던 일에서부터는 아내는 분명히 멀어지겠지만 나는 사실 두산리에서 일상과 크게 달라질 것 같지 않습니다. 정한 시간에 일어나서 아침을 먹고 나면, 늘 하던 대로 한 시간의 산책을 하고, 모니터 앞에 앉으면 카톡이 알려주는 대로 아는 분들의 생일을 축복할 것입니다. 그리고 <매일성경> 묵상 본문을 따라서 묵상과 기도를 시작할 것입니다. 기도는 오래전부터 자판을 사용한 손가락 기도입니다. 글로 쓰다 보면 단어나 문장이 가다듬어지고 무엇보다 좋은 것은 기록이 남아있다는 것입니다. 5, 6년이 지나면 같은 본문으로 돌아오니 다시 읽고 그날의 은혜를 맛볼 수 있으니 추천할만 합니다. 방학 중에도 은퇴자의 하루는 쓰든지 읽든지 기도하든지 기쁨과 감사로 살아갈 것입니다
Every moment of our journey from Ulsan to Incheon fell into place so seamlessly. Checking in online early Monday morning for our United Airlines flight and stepping out the front door right at 9:00 a.m. were timed perfectly. The train departure from Ulsan Station, boarding the airport limousine after getting off at Gwangmyeong Station, arriving at Incheon Airport to collect our boarding passes and check our baggage, sorting out mobile roaming and currency exchange, passing through immigration via the priority lane since I am over seventy, and finally having about two hours to rest—every single step was so beautifully timed that I could genuinely feel how many people were praying for us. Although the train arrived at Gwangmyeong Station three minutes late—at 10:15 instead of 10:12—we still had plenty of time to catch the 10:30 airport limousine. There was just one small hiccup when we showed our reserved seats: to our dismay, the tickets were booked for yesterday at the very same hour.
South Korea has truly become wonderfully convenient. We now live in a world where everything can be reserved with a simple tap on a smartphone. The KTX train was remarkably pleasant, and the limousine bus seats were as comfortable as business class on an airplane. Yet, compared to the past, it was evident that our mutual interest in one another has quietly faded away. That sensation was palpable everywhere—on the train, on the bus, throughout Incheon Airport, and inside the airplane cabin. While having freedom from the unnecessary gaze of strangers has its merits, on the flip side, it feels wistful to see that warm, human affection gradually slipping away. Neither the crowded bustle of the old rural buses nor the heartwarming warmth of the slow, stopping trains can be found any longer. People scurry along briskly, each bound for their own destination, each pursuing their own agenda. Whether for business, leisure, or vacation, and despite the sweltering summer heat, everyone's footsteps remain unceasing.
The most cherished memory of this trip was undoubtedly spending nearly two hours with my wife in the Asiana Lounge, from 2:00 to 4:00 in the afternoon. I was deeply grateful that we could share a long, unhurried conversation, just like two old friends meeting after a long time. (Those who know us know that we tend to lead rather busy lives.) Looking into each other's eyes after such a long while, we shared prayer requests about our home life, the futures of our sons, and the recent news of dear friends. My wife was especially delighted, saying she felt as if she had finally started her vacation. Having been set free not only from daily housekeeping chores but also from frequent hosting of guests and the labor of tending to both the flowerbeds and the vegetable patch, her joyful relief was completely understandable. Of course, the weather remained a lingering regret until the very end. If only it had poured down just for an hour like the monsoon rains, leaving home would have felt a little lighter on the heart. But now, leaving it all in the hands of Heaven, I have no choice but to shift into vacation mode myself.
Of the nearly ten-and-a-half-hour journey from Incheon to San Francisco, barely three hours have passed. So, my mind wanders back and forth, wondering what to do during this visit to our two sons' homes. Even though we are their parents, we are visitors and guests, so we must behave ourselves graciously. While my wife will certainly get away from tending the soil under the blazing summer sun, my own daily rhythm will likely not differ very much from life in Dusan-ri. After waking at a set hour and having breakfast, I will take my habitual one-hour walk, sit before the computer screen, and send birthday blessings to acquaintances as prompted by KakaoTalk. Then, I will turn to the day's passage in Daily Bible (Maeil Seonggyeong) to begin my meditation and prayer. For many years now, my prayers have taken the form of typing—prayers through my fingertips. When I write things down, words and sentences are refined, and best of all, a written record remains. Since the reading cycle returns to the same scripture passage after five or six years, reading it anew allows one to taste that day's grace once more; it is an approach I warmly recommend. Even during vacation, a retiree's day—whether writing, reading, or praying—will continue to be lived with abundant joy and gratitude.
Gedurende die hele reis vanaf Ulsan na Incheon het elke oomblik presies reg inmekaargesak. Om Maandagoggend vroeg van die huis af aanlyn in te teken vir ons United Airlines-vlug en omstreeks nege-uur by die huis uit te stap, was volkome tydig. Die treintyd vanaf Ulsan-stasie, die oomblik toe ons by Gwangmyeong-stasie afklim om die lughawe-limousin te haal, en toe ons by Incheon-lughawe aankom om ons instapkaarte te ontvang, die bagasie in te weeg, selfoon-roaming en valuta-omruiling te reël, en—aangesien ek reeds oor die sewentig is—deur die prioriteitsdeurgang vir bejaardes en gestremdes die uitreisklaaring af te handel; om daarna sowat twee uur lank rustig te sit en wag... elke liewe oomblik het so wonderlik verloop dat ek waarlik kon aanvoel hoeveel mense vir ons bid. Alhoewel die trein effens vertraag was en ons eers om 10:15 in plaas van 10:12 by Gwangmyeong-stasie aangekom het, was daar steeds oorgenoeg tyd om die 10:30-lughawebus te haal. Daar was net een klein haakplek toe ons ons bespreekte sitplekke wys: tot ons ontsteltenis was die kaartjies vir gister op dieselfde tyd bespreek.
Suid-Korea het voorwaar 'n besonder gerieflike land geword. Ons leef nou in 'n wêreld waar alle besprekings met 'n selfoon behartig kan word. Die KTX-trein was baie aangenaam, en die sitplekke in die lughawe-limousinbus was geensins minder gerieflik as die besigheidsklas op 'n vliegtuig nie. Nietemin was dit duidelik dat ons opregte belangstelling in mekaar, vergeleke met vroeër dae, grootliks verdwyn het. Op die trein, op die bus, by Incheon-lughawe en binne-in die vliegtuig was daardie gewaarwording baie tasbaar. Alhoewel dit voordelig is om vry te wees van die onnodige nuuskierigheid van vreemdelinge, voel 'n mens aan die ander kant 'n tikkie weemoed omdat die hartlike, menslike omgee stelselmatig wegraak. Nóg die bedrywige drukte van die ou plattelandse busse, nóg die hartverwarmende gasvryheid van die ou stoptreine is vandag meer te vinde. Mense haas hulle vinnig voort, elkeen op pad na hul eie bestemming, elkeen besig met hul eie doelwitte. Vir besigheid, vir 'n reis of vir vakansie—ten spyte van die snikhete somer kom daardie voete nooit tot stilstand nie.
Die mees besondere herinnering aan hierdie reis was sonder twyfel die byna twee uur wat ek van tweeuur tot vieruur die middag saam met my vrou in die Asiana-sitkamer kon deurbring. Ek was innig dankbaar dat ons, soos mense wat mekaar na 'n lang tyd weer sien, 'n lang en diep gesprek kon voer. (Diegene wat ons ken, weet immers dat ons maar 'n taamlik besige lewe lei.) Deur mekaar oor en weer in die oë te kyk, kon ons gebedsversoeke deel oor ons huishouding, die toekoms van ons seuns en die welstand van ons vriende. Veral my vrou was baie opgewonde en het gesê sy voel asof sy nou eers werklik met vakansie gegaan het. Noudat sy bevry is van nie net die daaglikse huishoudelike take nie, maar ook van die gereelde gasvryheid en die swaar arbeid in die blomtuin en groentetuin, kan 'n mens haar vreugde volkome begryp. Die weer was natuurlik tot op die heel laaste oomblik 'n bron van spyt. As dit maar net vir 'n enkele uur soos 'n regte reënseisoen-bui neergestort het, sou die hart baie rustiger gewees het om te vertrek. Maar noudat alles aan die Hemel toevertrou is, bly daar vir my geen ander keuse oor as om ook maar eenvoudig my eie vakansiemodus te betree nie.
Van die reis van byna tien en 'n half uur tussen Incheon en San Francisco het daar nou skaars drie uur verloop. So dink 'n mens aan allerlei dinge: wat sal ons tog doen wanneer ons ons twee seuns se gesinne besoek? Al is ons hul ouers, bly ons besoekers en gaste, daarom sal ons ons soet moet gedra. Terwyl my vrou beslis verlos sal wees van die grondwerk onder die brandende somerson, sal my daaglikse roetine waarskynlik nie veel verskil van die lewe in Dusan-ri nie. Nadat ek op my vasgestelde tyd opstaan en ontbyt geniet, sal ek soos gewoonlik my uurlange stappie neem, voor die rekenaarskerm gaan sit en vriende en bekendes se verjaarsdae seën soos KakaoTalk dit aandui. Dan sal ek aan die hand van die Daaglikse Bybel (Maeil Seonggyeong) se teksgedeelte met my oordenking en gebed begin. Gebed is vir my al lankal 'n saak van die vingers op die sleutelbord. Wanneer 'n mens dit neerskryf, word woorde en sinne fyner geskaaf, en die beste van alles is dat daar 'n blywende rekord agterbly. Aangesien dieselfde teks na vyf of ses jaar weer aan die beurt kom, kan 'n mens dit herlees en daardie dag se genade opnuut smaak—dit is waarlik iets wat ek kan aanbeveel. Selfs gedurende 'n vakansie sal 'n afgetredene se dag—hetsy deur te skryf, te lees of te bid—in blydskap en dankbaarheid geleef word.