Using the framework that I meant to write in 7 years ago, I now commemorate her memories Fruit Lady The dear lady is gone. It is the fruit lady.
Ever since modern supermarkets and grocery corners in department stores have sprung up everywhere in Seoul, traditional markets have disappeared in Seoul except for the few that remain like Namdaemun and Dongdaemun Market.
There used to be two markets in Seochon, the village west of Gyungbokgung Palace. But since the lovely Geumchungyo Market became an alley full of bars a few years ago, now only Tongin Market remains. It is strange that Tongin Market still persists in the middle of the city. There are many things to see in markets and they are refreshing, they are always fun to go to. They are also called 'Museum for Commoners' It’s very fun to go to a market in the provinces or overseas too.
Many years ago when Seoul didn’t have a big supermarket, I went into one in the U.S. for grocery shopping. It was huge, I wandered inside for a while but the experience ended after I paid at the register, there was no room for warmth.
I came back to my hometown, old village to find that it still lacked the big American supermarkets and that Tongin Market was still intact, 100 meters in length from my house. With liveliness and vitality unique to traditional markets, and warm, friendly exchanges in every store, the old feelings somehow remained, so my hunger for the old things was satisfied.
I wrote this several times but Korean Presidents sometimes unexpectedly show up in Tongin Market to gauge public sentiment as it is located close to the Blue House, and sometimes foreign guests visit too. One day John Kerry, then-U.S. Secretary of State, stopped by Tongin Market after coming from the meeting of The Blue House. I was there just in time, I ate tteokbokki with him and talked about the University i went to in Wash.D. C. That made the tteokbokki there more popular and international tourists came to that market a lot right before Covic 19.
There is a fruit store in the entrance to Tongin Market. There are many fruit stores, but I go there a lot as it is close by. Even a small amount of fruit is heavy to carry for me but I am always pleased when I unpack the them I bought at home.
One day, the fruit I bought was so heavy. I told her 'I think I need these delivered. My address is ...' And the fruit lady and other ladies from the next shops all came out and asked 'Ah Why hasn’t the Madam there not coming for years?'
I told them 'My mother passed away 3 years ago' They were surprised. 'Goodness, she was one of a kind, a 40-year-regular. She would pass by and ask ‘How was today’s business?’ and I'd say 'Oh it was an idle day' and she would turn around to buy a few stuff. When I told her the price, most people would haggle but she would pay more than I asked for. She is one of the best' This incident must have been while I and sisters were all studying in the U.S.
Only after my mother was gone did I grow mature, I engrossed myself in translating my mother’s books, giving speeches and lectures around the world, trying to convey my mother’s spirit of love and peace. Just in time, a few days later on November 22, it was an anniversary of my mother’s death. I was planning on inviting many people to ‘House of Poets’ and perform various events featuring my mother’s poems.
I told her that 'It would be nice if you spoke to the audience about that at the event for my mother' and she said 'I will, of course I will'
Of course, already decided who would speak at the event, so it wasn’t possible for her to do that but I was moved by what she said. And I wondered for a moment, if someone would say something like that about me after I am gone.
After that, I would often walk to that market, ask about memories of my mother, and got comforted by stories about how my mother used to come to the market with her walker at the end and ask the fruit lady how she was doing.
One time, the fruit lady was gone for about a month. She had burned her calve from peeling a chestnut near a small furnace and was hospitalized for over a month. One of her sons who was helping out died and another son too.
I looked inside the space behind her display stand to find, though dark and barely visible, her cooking with a pan for a meal. Whenever I went to the market I bought her steamed dumplings, rice cakes and kimbap. I also bought her tofu, eggs, milk and fish. She refused but I did it because I felt bad that I couldn’t do this for my mother anymore. I kept saying to her to eat well and go on walks through the market.
She told me she was worried for me when I didn’t visit there for a long time. I knew many of the other shop owners but the woman I was fond of was gone. The vegetable lady next door said that the reason she never took a day off was because her son died before her. Everyone has their stories, even those in a market.
These last few years I have lost several close friends. It feels empty that the fruit lady with whom I had exchanged a few words every once in a while despite my not knowing her name, is now gone.
At the end of the bleak year, it feels strange that the fruit place I saw for decades is closed. While I think that life is just a series of dumplings, I also feel good because she would have met her son in heaven and she would have talked about her 20 years with me to my mother if she ever saw her.
Her face which is what I would first see whenever I went into there, is what I remember when I enter the market again.
Communing with my mother, the endless longing Sending the dear lady to heaven
I exit the frozen market at the year end 
Fruit lady, the first store of Tongin Market - Feb 25 2014
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