Many international students and exchange students make group trips to the North Village Hanok. But I have to say that ours was the most impressed and unforgettable trip.

It was raining heavily and extremely cold that day, but nothing could stop us. We had to get together at 8 a.m. and then take a bus to get there. Because of the traffic jam, we got there almost at 10 a.m. It was really a little crazy to go on a trip in such bad weather. However, it was the rain and the wind that made the trip so special. I truly experienced a baptism of history and felt a great sense of satisfaction of mind.

Owing to the bad weather, there were no other tourists except us. All seemed so quiet and peaceful. I felt like we were uncovering the hidden past on our own. Meeting the old man who guided us, I imagined an old lonely man waiting there for thousands of years through the changes of the era. I regret now that I should have been more respectful and pious and listen to his old stories of history and the changes that have gone through.

The houses are still there, but men are no more the same. These houses of the past are standing there alone to talk about what had gone through with wind. And who can understand their feelings of sadness? Photos could only record the appearances of the houses. It is the heart that can remember the depth of solitude left in the world.

Yeah, there are many traditional houses along the long ancient alleys filled with the memories of history. Most of them had plaques written in Chinese on the door as well as couplets on each side of the door. As a Chinese, I had the special feeling to see and read these Chinese sentences and experience the ancient culture there. They were all beautiful words concerning life, virtues, and dreams. For example,“一笑一少一怒一老” meaning the moment you smile, you become younger and the moment you anger, you become older.

One of the houses called ‘Yinde Cultural Yard’ impressed me the most. It was like a legendary temple of a highly respected monk. Except for the pine trees in the garden silently growing out of the wall and us, the several uninvited guests, the house has been left there empty and lives forever in the history. A gust of wind blowing through the place and the hollow sound from the bell hanging from the roof added to the loneliness of the courtyard. I felt I was hearing the sound coming from hundreds of years ago.

We walked through those complicated alleys to look for good photo spots and most of us forgot to have any spiritual conversations about the village, and maybe not fully appreciating the quietness in such cold rain.

From the high top village, I could see the ancient mountains and nearby villages. I could feel the same rain and the wind that have gone through hundreds of years. I felt like a part of that history.

Now, I am standing there again after two weeks and on a sunny day. Lots of tourists are passing by these houses with great interests and taking photos around. The houses that talked to me in the midst of rain and wind have become just houses without lonely stories of the past. I missed those stories of the past they shared with me during that rainy and windy day.

Chen Guanghua(An exchange student)

chengh32@foxmail.com