Buried in the Sand

I was talking to my sister today about our childhood. I told her about how I have been increasingly fascinated by our upraising in a Korean home.

I've really wanted to start writing about how distinctly different our "Korean American" lives were from others while we were growing up. She mentioned something that I had forgotten for so long . . .

We had the best sandbox growing up. It filled the length of our backyard. Past the perfectly mowed grass that our dad maintained dutifully. So dutifully that even when Kathy and I begged to mow the lawn - we were denied with great intensity.

I remember the day the sand came.

I never knew that sand came in a big dump truck. I guess I just assumed that it was just where it landed. The enormous truck full of sand backed up across the perfectly manicured grass and dumped its load - so inelegantly. Was this really what our sand box would look like? A mound of left over remains from such an uncouth truck?

Within a few hours the sand was leveled and our sandbox was transformed yet again with an addition of a swing set. Kathy and I were given a golden gift that extended the expanse of our yard. What joy that our parents would so unselfishly give such a great gift.

However, being in an industrious Korean household, there had to be more than one use for the glorious golden sandbox.

Every late fall my dad would be instructed to bring in large buckets from the shed and line them with garbage bags. It was time for kimjang.

A large silver pot, big enough for small children to bathe in, was taken outside. Heads of cabbage - dozens of them - were salted and soaked for the entire day. Mom and Dad washed the cabbage, sometimes enlisting the help of Kathy and I, then marinated in pepper powder, garlic and a host of other seasoning.

While mom packed the cabbage in the buckets, dad dug holes in our golden sand box. Sometimes the ground would already be partially frozen. I don't think Kathy and I knew the full extent of what our parents were doing until the snow melted in the spring.

Spring reawakened our love for our golden sandbox. It was like finding a treasure when we found buckets full of kimchee in our box.

Kathy told me that she always thought this was normal - who doesn't find buckets full of kimchee in their sandbox in the spring?

I wonder if my parents ever forgot about a bucket or two. I hope they did. It would be such a treasure for the kids who reawaken their curiosity in the spring.