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A sense of déjà vu washes over me, and I ask Minjee, “Do you remember that time we went to take pictures at the photo booth? Before we even read the scripts forFated Destiny?”
Minjee’s eyes light up in recognition. “Yeah, of course! I still have one of the photos saved as my KakaoTalk profile pic, I think.”
“Yeah, you do. To be honest, I looked at that photo a lot when I first startedFated Destiny. I think I was just really lonely since I wasn’t going to school and everything. But I was afraid to reach out to you because I felt bad about getting the lead part when you didn’t.”
Minjee frowns and places a hand on my shoulder. “Hana...”
I look into her warm brown eyes. I can’t even come close to expressing how much she means to me, how I’m so scared of telling her how I really feel because I don’t want to lose the friendship we have.
So I just say, “Thanks for reaching out when you did. It helped a lot.”
She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “No problem.”
We stand there for a moment, smiling at each other. There’s a palpable tension buzzing between us, like we’re about to kiss. But then Minjee looks away. It’s probably just my wishful thinking.
“Okay! Let’s get moving. This is only phase one. We have two more phases to go!”
I laugh. Her enthusiasm is so adorable. “Okay, where to next?”
We leave the hanbok store, but not before being greeted by a sea of fans that crowds the main room. I catch sight of the manager lady looking on with pride and approval as we take selfies with fans.
“We have the hanbok for four hours... which is more than enough time for what we’re going to do today,” Minjee says when we leave the store. “That is, provided that we don’t get stopped at every block. Hopefully we won’t.”
Luckily, once we’re out of the store, people pretty much leave us alone as we walk down the street. And I don’t blame them. Minjee has a determined look on her face, like she’s on a mission and can’t be disturbed. It probably looks intimidating to people who don’t know her that well, but to me she looks really cute.
We end up retracing our steps back to Gyeongbokgung again, walking around the white-brick palace walls and crossing the street to follow a twisting and turning narrow path past little shops and restaurants. People smile at us as we walkby, surreptitiously and sometimes even overtly taking pictures of Minjee and me.
Minjee and I pick up rice cake waffles and black sesame lattes from a café so we can snack as we browse the shops we encounter along the way. Most of the stores are clearly targeted for tourists and sell things like traditionally designed pencil cases and Korean flag fans. But I enjoy browsing through everything all the same.
“Okay, almost there,” Minjee says about an hour later.
When we turn the corner, we’re suddenly surrounded by the traditional houses of Bukchon Hanok Village. Snow covers the black giwa tiles of the roofs, which, along with the wooden doors and window frames of the houses, make it seem like we’ve been transported back in time to Korea in the long-distant past. The only things that break the illusion are the streetlights and tourists taking photos with their smartphones. Some passersby are dressed in hanbok like we are, but others are in modern-day coats and jackets.
In retrospect, I should have guessed that this was where Minjee was taking me, but I gape in wonder all the same. I take a few quick pictures, marveling at the finely preserved antique quality of the houses.
Minjee leads me up the hilly street, all the while explaining to me that these houses still have people living in them.
“Even though it’s a popular tourist attraction, it’s a residential area, so we have to speak quietly so we don’t disturb anyone.”
I look around the houses, amazed at the idea that modern-day families actually live in these beautiful traditional homes. “Can you imagine just casually owning one of these houses? How cool would that be?”
“I know, right? Apparently, they’re pretty expensive, though. And cost a lot to maintain.”
Minjee and I continue walking up the hill, pausing here and there to take selfies with the pretty houses. When we reach the top of the hill, Minjee holds out her hand.
“Here,” she says. “Let me take pictures of you. Glam photo shoot time! Stand over there.”
She points at the middle of the street, where a lot of other people are pausing to take pictures, too. It doesn’t take long for me to realize why—from where we’re standing on the hill, there’s a gorgeous view of the Seoul city skyline below. I wait for a group to finish taking pictures before standing at the spot where Minjee pointed.
“Smile!” she says. “Say kimchi!”
At that, my lips spread into a genuine smile. Unlike in the US, where people say “cheese,” people in Korea say “kimchi”... which is probably the most Korean thing ever. It never fails to make me laugh whenever someone says it.
“Beautiful! Fabulous!” Minjee shouts. She crouches down—which looks really comical with her poufy hanbok skirt—and flips my phone at different angles, taking multiple shots like she’s some professional photographer. “Fantastic! Stunning!”
I end up bent over, giggling at how ridiculous she’s being.
“Okay,” Minjee says when she’s done. “Come look!”
