“Thank you, thank you!” I say instead, “Have a great day. I wish you longevity and the longest and healthiest life!” I realize I am waving my hand at her wildly. The weather is a little depressing, rain drops falling in weird, slow intervals. I enter a windy road and start climbing the uphill path. I see the little hole-in-the-wall stew place. A middle-aged lady is hurriedly gathering the siregi herbs that she had been drying in the sun. The smell of miso wafts from the door and tickles my hunger. I should eat breakfast and take my meds. I slip inside and ask the man who appears to be the owner (the man is drinking broth with a bottle of soju next to him, while the lady is still busy in the kitchen), “Excuse me, this is Sinsun District, right? Do you know how to get to San, building number 58?”

He yells to his wife, “Honey! Is building 58 up on the hill?”

“Yes!” She yells back from the kitchen.

“You are going all the way up there? This path will come to an end, and you will reach a hilly area with a lot of reeds. Once you go past there, there are a few houses clustered. Are you looking for someone specific?”

“I don’t think you’d know her. Her name is Gang Jinae. I think roughly the same age as your wife. Mid-fifties?”

“Not sure …”

“Who are you looking for?” The lady pokes her head out from the hole that connects the kitchen and the dining area.

“Gang Jinae. Do you know her?”

“Just by the name? No. But you look familiar. Where are you from?”

“I live in Busan. I just have one of those faces that looks familiar. I should get going.” As I try to leave, the man thrusts out an umbrella.

“Take this, but return it later.”

“I’m really okay … well, thank you.” I bow and climb up the narrow path. The road is not well maintained and it only gets worse as I keep climbing, stairs appearing and disappearing. The fence along the way is half-demolished and coal ashes are scattered about. Another fence has well-done graffiti of a field of sunflowers that makes me want to go lie down in it. I stop to catch my breath. I wish I’d brought some cigarettes. I only have three thousand-won bills and a few coins in my pocket. I’m not sure what to do next.

“Is this San building 58?”

“Yup!” The young woman must be busy; she continues her fast stride away from me. I reach out and grab her arm before she runs off. Rain drops fall on her sweater.

“Do you know the person who lives there … Gang Jinae?”

“Of course! Assistant Pastor Gang? She lives right by me.”

“She’s a … pastor?”

“Assistant Pastor, but yes. You aren’t here to see her for the service?”

I don’t respond.