Chapter 62: That Time I Went from South America to Korea (2)

TL: Skye

The summit moved like clockwork, none of the tedious push-and-pull that usually drags these things out.

That was because the nuclear power card had simplified the entire negotiation.

San Marcos would import two 1,400MW Korean-model reactors from Korea, and would also commission, as a package deal, the resulting power grid construction along with the nuclear fuel business.

In return, the Korean government would provide waste disposal technology, would assist San Marcos in negotiations with the United States and the IAEA so that it could acquire nuclear power, would loan half of the reactor order in the form of ODA, and would encourage Korean companies to expand into San Marcos.

On top of that, tariffs on San Marcan agricultural and fishery products and manufactured goods would be phased out in stages until they reached zero. That was the skeleton of the agreement.

In effect, an MOU paving the way for an FTA.

The fine print, of course, would have to be hammered out by the working-level officials, but with the broad framework already locked in, the rest would proceed without a hitch.

It was nothing short of an earth-shattering breakthrough.

In any case, after several hours of a successful summit and banquet, I dropped into a chair in the Sogong-dong hotel suite the Korean government had arranged for me.

"Excellent work, Your Excellency. That was a flawless summit."

Isabella greeted me, her face flushed. She too seemed buoyed by what we'd accomplished.

"Tomorrow's schedule is fairly packed, so why don't you wash up and get some rest?"

But I shook my head as I loosened my tie.

"No. It's not bedtime yet."

"Pardon?"

"I came all the way to Korea. I can't just go to sleep."

I turned to the head of the security detail.

"Everyone brought casual clothes, right?"

"Per Your Excellency's instructions, yes, everyone packed them, but..."

"Good. Change into them, all of you. I'm going to show you the real taste of Korea."

"A, a sudden change of clothes? Are we conducting some sort of inspection?"

"An inspection, in someone else's country? Just think of it as sightseeing."

A short while later, I slipped out the back door of the hotel with Isabella and five members of the security team in tow.

The bodyguards looked plainly bewildered, but when I told them to keep a natural distance, they did their best to play civilian and scanned the surroundings as we went.

The taxi we boarded came to a halt in Bongcheon-dong, Gwanak-gu. A neighborhood of narrow, steep alleys tangled up with traditional markets, drenched in the sweat and tears of my twenties.

"This place... looks like a market."

Isabella sniffed the air as she asked. The distinctive market smell, savory and faintly fishy at once, hung thick in the air.

"It's called Bongcheon-dong Central Market. The taste of Korea lives here."

As we stepped into the familiar market, Isabella and the others looked around with curiosity in their eyes.

A few minutes in, a familiar sign came into view.

[Jeonju Sundae-gukbap]

Half the lights on the sign were dead, but warm steam was still leaking out from inside the shop.

'Back here again, huh.'

Slide.

"Excuse me... Auntie? Are you still open?"

The perm-haired ajumma washing dishes inside looked up.

"Aigoo, we're already closing up... huh?"

Her eyes went round. Wet rubber gloves still on, she came striding toward me.

"Oh my! Look who it is! Aren't you Yu-jin, the student?!"

"You're as lovely as ever."

"Oh, oh my! Goodness, how many years has it been? How can you not have changed one bit?!"

She slapped me on the back, beaming.

Back in my goshiwon days, this was the woman who'd piled meat on my plate as if I were her own nephew, and packed me kkakdugi and stir-fried anchovies whenever I left. The benefactor of my school years.

Fortunately, it seemed she hadn't had time to watch the news, so she had absolutely no idea I was the Acting President of San Marcos.

"But who are these folks? They're foreigners?"

"Ah... they're coworkers. I went to study in the States and ended up at a foreign company. We came on a business trip to Korea together."

"Oh my, how nice to meet you. Come on, sit down!"

"It looks like you're closing up... is that all right?"

"Yu-jin's here, what do I care about closing! Come on in! I'll boil meat until we run out tonight!"

At her booming declaration, we huddled into a corner table.

"You must know her well."

"She looked after me back in my school days. Treated me like her own nephew."

"Ah... someone you owe a great deal."

"Yes, an enormous amount."

When I'd first moved into that goshiwon in Bongcheon-dong, fresh out of university entrance exams, it had been just over a year since my parents passed.

I hadn't gotten over the grief, and I was nowhere near mature enough to handle it on my own. The reason I made it through to the end of my studies was because of people like the Auntie now ladling sundae-gukbap over there.

'I miss them all. I wonder how Manager Park and Old Mr. Kim are doing.'

While I was lost in those memories, an earthenware pot of bubbling sundae-gukbap landed on the table.

Bubble, bubble!

A milky broth, deeply simmered from pork bone, generously dusted with chives and perilla powder.

"Eat up, all of you! The boiled pork's heating up now, so just hold on a bit!"

Isabella and the bodyguards, faced with a sight and smell they'd never encountered before, hesitated to even pick up their spoons.

"Here, this is how you eat it. You add saeu-jeot, and then this thing called dadaegi, it can be spicy, so you don't have to put it in. Mix it up well like that, and try a bite..."

I took a big spoonful of the broth.

"Aaah."

Nope. Even a Michelin three-star chef couldn't pull off this flavor.

Isabella, copying me, added a little saeu-jeot and dadaegi, then cautiously tasted the broth. Her eyes flew open.

"Oh...!"

She picked up the pace with her spoon. Following her lead, the bodyguards started in earnest on the broth and the chunky bits.

"There's quite a lot of meat in this. And this dark stuff looks just like morcilla."

"It's called sundae. The process is similar to morcilla. Most of the meat inside is offal and head meat."

"The flavor is very deep and rich. What's the usual occasion for eating this?"

I grinned at Isabella's question.

"It's something you eat when you're broke, and something you eat when you're rich. Everyday food. The closest thing in San Marcos would be a tortilla."

"So a kind of soul food, you're saying."

"Exactly. The nutritional balance is excellent, too. In my case, I used to eat it ten times a week."

The old days came back to me, when I measured the value of everything in SDK.

'Back when I was in college, the hourly wage at a convenience store was 0.5 SDK.'

I walked over to the fridge and, as if by reflex, pulled out a green bottle worth 0.5 SDK.

"All right, everyone except whoever's driving, let's have a glass. Soju pairs perfectly with sundae-gukbap."

"Soju... isn't that the East Asian vodka?"

"It's cheap diluted soju, so it's quite different from vodka, but actually that's part of why it pairs so well."

Glug, glug, glug.

The clear liquid filled the glasses.

"Cheers."

I poured for everyone and held out my glass; the bodyguards awkwardly raised theirs.

"Whew!"

Isabella scrunched up her face at the bitter kick, then smacked her lips.

"It's bitter... but sweet."

"Right? Proof that today's been a memorable day."

By now, the bodyguards were drenched in sweat and scraping the bottoms of their stone bowls.

"Well? Are they liking it?"

Auntie came out of the kitchen and asked, looking pleased.

"They say it's the best. Auntie, why don't you just move over to where our company is? You'd make a killing."

"Where's that?"

"Latin America. A place called San Marcos."

She burst into laughter and waved her hand.

"Aigoo, I'd love to go, but my old man can't even get the kimchi out of the fridge by himself. Can't very well leave him behind."

"Then you can both come."

"Oh please, what would be the point of that? Going alone is what makes it meaningful!"

"Hahaha! That's fair, I'll give you that."

It was right in the middle of our cheerful chatter, mine and Auntie's.

The street outside got noisy, a swelling murmur drifting in.

"I'm telling you it's real! I saw him go in here."

And then.

"Holy crap! It really is!"

"Oh my god! That's actually Choi Yu-jin?!"

A crowd was forming outside the shop.

***

The next morning. The morning news was wallpapered with one story.

[BREAKING: San Marcos Acting President Choi Yu-jin's Late-Night Bongcheon-dong Excursion]

[EXCLUSIVE: Acting President Choi Yu-jin Visits Sundae-gukbap Restaurant]

The TV screen ran on loop: footage of Yu-jin from the previous night, surrounded by the throng outside the sundae-gukbap shop, shaking hands without ceremony and posing for selfies with citizens.

[At around 11 PM last night, San Marcos Acting President Choi Yu-jin, having concluded his official banquet, visited a traditional market in Gwanak-gu accompanied by his entourage. He stopped by a humble sundae-gukbap shop he had frequented during his exam-prep days...]

The reporter's voiceover gave way to an interview with Kim Mal-sun, the owner of the sundae-gukbap shop.

"Aigoo, don't even get me started. He was that polite and kind even back when he was a student. He used to help with the dishes when we were swamped... and goodness, becoming president and still not forgetting us, still coming back. I was just amazed, I tell you."

Eyes welling up, Auntie held up the thick envelope of cash Yu-jin had quietly left behind.

And this heartwarming little story flipped Korean internet communities upside down.

-Wow... wraps up a summit and immediately goes for sundae-gukbap? The romance is unreal. -Compare that to our politicians who only eat gukbap during election season. -Bro actually went to eat lol -Watching Auntie's interview, he's clearly a real regular. Am I the only one rooting for him? -Came to check out Yu-jin's go-to spot and the wait is insane right now? Auntie's hit the jackpot.

A new nickname stuck, Gukbap President, and Yu-jin's popularity in Korea began climbing fast.

YouTube, which had been quiet for a while, was suddenly flooded with content about San Marcos and Yu-jin, and TV networks kept reporting on the benefits Korea-San Marcos economic cooperation would bring.

And right around the time the buzz around Yu-jin was about to hit critical mass.

He was on his way, at the invitation of Chairman Jung of Hyunhwa, to a building in central Seoul.

[Your Excellency, the thing is, I lead a small gathering of business figures. Everyone is eager to meet you. Could you grace us with your presence? They all have an interest in investing in San Marcos, so it certainly won't be a waste of your time.]

Chairman Jung had given his all for San Marcos so far, and the prospect of attracting investment alone made it impossible to decline.

And then.

"...what."

Yu-jin, who had stepped into the building's main conference room without a hint of suspicion, saw it.

"You've arrived, Your Excellency."

Behind the dozen-odd elderly men greeting him hung an enormous Korean flag, and beneath that, a banner.

[The Patriotic Business Council and Industrial Patriotism collective welcome His Excellency Choi Yu-jin.]

"......"

Something.

Felt deeply.

Off.

*****

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