Thunder Over Louisville

Before moving to Kentucky, I mentioned that one of the only things I knew about the place is horses. That has proved true. Driving through the country you pass mansion-sized stables and horse pastures with polished fences that must cost a fortune. In the more populated areas like Louisville, even if there aren't breathing horses, there are countless different horse-themed decorations. Horse fountains, life-size horse statues, horsey things adorn nearly every public building or walkway here.

The affection and popularity makes sense, because fertile pastures and happy horses have made Kentucky famous, especially this time of year. Right now must be the most exciting week to be a Louisvillain (that's not a word, but I like the sound of it). The event that turns all eyes to this city, the Kentucky Derby, takes place next weekend, May 7.

What I didn't realize, is that if you live in Kentuckiana (that is a real word, the collective title for the areas in and around Louisville, part Kentucky and part Indiana), the Derby is about more than just that three minute race. There are three weeks of celebrations, the Derby being the grand finale of all the fun. The table behind us at a fast food restaurant, the workers at a cafe, everyone we encounter here is buzzing with excitement about these events.

Last weekend, Isaac and I caught the fever and attended one of the KDF's (Kentucky Derby Festival's) most popular public events: Thunder Over Louisville.

Taking place in the heart of Louisville, alongside the Ohio River, this event shuts down the bridges connecting Kentucky and Indiana, interstate exits that run through the city and many city streets. There are two main parts, and they are both about as rumbling, loud and patriotic as it gets: an air show and a fireworks show.

All afternoon there is the air show, with aircraft from all five branches of the military showing up and showing off trick maneuvers.

Most people bring lawn chairs, blankets and coolers and just camp out by the river all day. There are vendors and fair rides and all sorts of outlets for entertainment and money spending.

This picture to the right of some parachuters having fun was taken just at the beginning of the air show, at 3pm. Planes continued whizzing and rumbling by sporadically for the next 6.5 hours, until the fireworks began. Even when I took this first picture, there was quite a crowd gathered already.

In the final minutes before the fireworks show, blaring radios told us that there were an estimated 720,000 people in attendance.

We had many hours to kill, and no tailgating posse with lawn chairs to call home base. This was our first trip to downtown Louisville, and so we killed time by walking along the river and getting better acquainted with the city. Throughout the afternoon, there was a steady stream of people with blankets and children in tow heading towards the river. And the influx only thickened as the hours passed.

And so we wandered, turning our eyes towards the sky above the Ohio River whenever we heard a zipping, rumble or squeal. The fighter jets came and went way too quickly for me to snap a picture of. I was lucky just to catch a glimpse of them.

I was able to get a shot of the Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor (identification credit is 100% Isaac) because it has insane abilities like floating super slowly through the air. We were quite far away from the river when this one made its entrance (looking for a bathroom because I decided to boycot porta potties). It was a surprise to see this powerful plane lazily drifting across the sky, like a strong man slowly flexing his muscles. Its noise was thick, rumbling the air and ground around us, a uniquely different sound than the ripping screams of the other fighters.

We found a nice and useful souvenir too. Mixed in with the typical fried desserts and greasy meats on a stick was a stand selling just old fashioned sodas. We paid for this souvenir cup, and got free refills of root beer all day. I was rationing my liquid intake (see refusal to use porta potty statement above) but Isaac still refilled it three or four times total. When we got home, we measured how much this big mug will hold. Four cups comfortably, five to the brim. I think we got our money's worth of root beer and birch beer.

I've only ever had birch beer once before, with the Jones in Pennsylvania probably a decade ago. It tastes like candy cigarettes and root beer, a fantastic combination I think. I was excited to taste it again and share it with Isaac. "It's good, but too sweet" were his thoughts about it.

I guess it's no surprise that a car with a horse on it would be popular here. Ford has TWO assembly plants in Louisville, so of course they showed up with something special for this big event.

We escaped the madness by the river and ate dinner at a nice restaurant. It's wonderful to go into a busy restaurant with just a party of two. As soon as we fell onto one of the place's velvet couches to wait, our name was called. Throughout the afternoon and evening hours, we considered bailing out before the 9:30 fireworks. Beat traffic and just watch it online from the comfort of our new home. But we kept talking ourselves out of it. We found a cozy spot on the Great Lawn, a bluegrassy field next to the river, surrounded by others, to wait out the final hours. Even at 9:00 I tested the waters, asking "Are you sure we shouldn't just go now?"

But as the sun set, the atmosphere seemed to become charged. The speakers started booming out classics like Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA" and Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats" and everyone sang along. Well, at least most of the girls sang along to that second one. The moment felt so patriotic, and I smiled reminding myself that this was not the fourth of July, just some day in April for the rest of the country.

At last, fireworks.

Two identical barges are loaded down with fireworks, and so is one of the bridges across the Ohio River. The barges get into position, one on either side of the bridge. In these photos, one barge is directly in front of us, the fireworks bridge is to the left and the second barge is out of the picture even further left. The smoke drifted in that direction, perfect for our viewing, but probably choking some of the people along the river we passed earlier.

The show is 30 minutes long and boasts itself to be one of America's largest fireworks shows. It's hard to check this fact, since most big shows (and online rankings) are only for the fourth of July. In 2011 Isaac and I saw one of the biggest Independence Day shows together (Macy's in NYC) and this one felt just as spectacular. Half an hour is a long time for constant explosions in the sky.

I have to take a moment and acknowledge the wonderful soundtrack for the show. It wasn't the typical mashup of popular songs - mostly instrumentals featuring classics like In the Hall of the Mountain King, 1812 Overture, Mars, New World Symphony and the Star Wars Theme. There was a brief interlude where they played some pop numbers (Katy Perry's "Firework" of course) and it just seemed to bring the moment down a notch. But maybe I'm just being a music snob.

The grand finale of the show was so loud, bright and, well, thunderous that I lost my footing and stumbled backwards a step. This event is aptly named.

As soon as the fireworks were over, the crowds surged into the streets like it was the zombie apocalypse. It was pretty scary, everyone in a rush to get to their cars and "beat" traffic. We now know that such a thing is impossible. It took us 2.5 hours to drive the measly 11 miles back to our apartment. Next year, if we are feeling brave, we now have a master plan: reserve a parking spot, arrive a half hour before the fireworks, eat a late and lazy dinner afterwards. But it is hard to even think about that yet. Just enjoying the pictures and videos we took is nice, and sharing the best bits with you makes that long day and night even more worth it.

Final Days and Suwon Hwaseong Fortress

It was a decision that seemed to be made quickly, but not lightly. A week before my flight to America, Isaac received an email and we officially decided to come back home for good.

This decision bred excitement of course, but it also came with some hardship. In a short amount of time, we had to say goodbye to Isaac's father, our companions and the country where we made our newlywed nest. I went from packing for just a visit home to packing our lives away. In the end I had to leave most of the mess for Isaac to take care of by himself.

I tried to make that final week in Suwon, South Korea special. I narrowed down my sprawling list of "places to visit, things to do" to just one item: visit Suwon Hwaseong Fortress. For the past couple of months, out of our west facing windows, I've seen a mound of green rise up above the building tops. Looking on google maps, I found out that its name was Suwon Hwaseong Fortress. Built during the Joseon area, it's a UNESCO World Heritage site and is a little over 200 years old. In modern times, it's a beautiful park with scenic vistas, a lovely day date and a fitting farewell.

We took a long bus ride to the north end of the park and strolled our way along its outer wall, down well-trodden dirt paths and wide paved roads that meander through the fortress. What is most stunning is the mixture of old and new, of nature and city.

To the right is a peek through one of the many arrow slits in the outer wall of the fortress. When the land is pretty level the holes face out, other times they peer down the steep slope of a mountainside.

After walking through the park, we headed down this long chain of stairs to Paldalmun, one of the fortress' main entrances which is now the hub of an overwhelming array of markets and street vendors.

Paldalmun just looks like some traditional rooftops near the middle of the picture above, below you can see that it is the center of a busy roundabout.

The Paldalmun markets were just overwhelming. Small walkways, both sides cluttered with products, people all around pushing to get by and the occasional moped honking its way through it all. It didn't take long for the novelty to wear off. We considered ourselves lucky just to find our way clear of the market maze, blessed to gobble up a few desserts. Above Isaac is holding old fashioned hoddeok, which has a sweet filling with all sorts of seeds and nuts squished inside of fried dough.

At the base of all of those stairs, we found a calm, charming street to eat lunch on and rest our feet. Then we tromped up the stone stairmaster to explore the park some more. We were rewarded with an even wider view of Suwon.

I have to make the picture below huge so that you can enjoy it. If you look closely, you can trace the outer walls of the fortress amidst the rooftops. On the left side it's marked by a line of grass and trees breaking up the buildings. The far side traces along that dark clump of trees out near the horizon. Look for similar signs as your eyes scroll right and you can create its basic outline. This old fortress of kings is now home to a sprawling city that expands far beyond its stone walls.

Our house cannot be seen, but we did locate the other side of two tall buildings (near the right edge of this picture) which stand between us and the fortress.

I liked this place so much, I decided to return for a visit during the week by myself. It has a certain majesty about it that called me back. I retraced the path Isaac and I walked a few days before, but also explored other trails, like one that outlines the fortress walls.

I walked down that almost endless staircase again, and turned left onto the first street at the bottom. It's the same small road where we ate lunch before, an area known for its hip atmosphere and street art. Since Isaac and I had visited on Sunday, most of its shops had been closed.

This time the shops were open, each one the home and working place of artisans. I wandered along the street, into and out of the small stores usually containing just one person, shelves and walls covered with their creations.

I talked with a potter, two jewelry makers and a carpenter. Carrying on these conversations in Korean made me feel proud of my many solitary hours of studying over the past months.

Exploring this area and talking with friendly strangers who love to create was bittersweet. Just when I finally became confident and able, at last getting a grip on this foreign language and thinking of this place at home, it was all coming to an end.

The shop to the right was my last stop before heading home. It is called "namu ahjussi", which means something like Mr. Tree or wood man. Inside was a gentle man wearing a worn work apron, his fingers were stained and rough. He invited me to sit down and have a cup of tea while he finished something.

It was a gift. A simple wooden charm he painted with one wide stroke of wood stain for each side. With a black sharpie he wrote 잘 될거야, then using a thin leather strip he tied it onto my purse.

It was a small gesture, probably one that he's done for countless tourists like me. But it was so perfect, so serendipitous.

잘 될거야 means "it will go well" or "it's going to be okay". And during the half hour bus ride home, and the days that followed full of lasts and farewells, I held onto that little piece of wood, rereading its words and knowing that it was true. And it has proven outstandingly, wonderfully to be true.

To Louisville

Although our visit to family back home was technically "bonus time", it sure felt hard to leave this week. After the surprise sunk in, Isaac and I realized we had a lot of planning to do in order to successfully transport our lives to Kentucky in such a short time.

After a lot of phone calls, googling and a few card swipes, it seemed like we had a decent grasp on the situation. The fact that the u-haul cab stank of smoke was neutralized by the giant alien face on its side. We quickly grew attached to our truck, for obvious reasons.

I think saying "goodbye" was especially hard because of how sweet our stay in South Carolina was. Getting to see all of these loved ones that we haven't seen in many months, and being spoiled by time with baby Emmett. But because the days flew by so quickly, there were many family and friends we didn't get to see at all, or only briefly.

Yet once we made it out past some light showers in Spartanburg, listening to Dad's mixtape (an SD card of music), the excitement began to trickle through us. The drive from Columbia to Louisville is an easy and scenic one - a few interstates through the mountains of western North Carolina, Tennessee and then Kentucky. Nice weather and no traffic, amazing circumstances for our first trip on these roads and Isaac's first time towing a vehicle. Here's a few of my favorite scenes. 

As we rose higher into the mountains, the trees became bare. There were few signs of spring's young, vibrant leaves, only the occasional bursts of pollen and buds.

When we finally grabbed some food at the Tennessee/Kentucky border, I spied a teen taking a picture of our u-haul. It made me feel like a proud mother of our alien truck all over again so I snapped a picture too.

As we sat eating dinner, we utilized the restaurant's wifi to make a dent in the checklist of moving to-dos. Crunching on french fries and sweet tea, I got my first healthy dose of what might be a Kentucky accent. The lady from Louisville G&E on the phone pronounced her "A" in a long, slow, stretchy and sweet way. Okay sounded like more like "Oh-ka-eye".
 

Evening approached and we grew excited seeing the pastures alongside the interstate, its grazers seeming to slowly transition from cows to horses. We decided to settle down for the night in a cute and quiet town along the interstate called Corbin, about an hour south of Lexington. Coasting up the exit ramp, a sign informed us that this was also the home of the Harland Sanders Café, the birthplace of Kentucky Fried Chicken.

After checking into a hotel, we went to sleep pretty early. Without ever stepping foot in Kentucky, we had a place to live, renter's insurance and electricity set up. There was plenty of time still to sort out the thousand other details. For the moment, we needed to enjoy ourselves a little.

And that meant waking up without an alarm clock, enjoying the hotel's breakfast, and then checking out the birthplace of KFC.

As it turns out, the Colonel, Harland Sanders wore many hats before becoming the face of the now international restaurant chain. In Corbin, he created an all-inclusive roadside resort to cater to motor tourists in the '40s and '50s. His restaurant served more than chicken, priding itself on its breakfast plates with country ham. There were also hotel rooms and a gas station to meet all of the travelers' needs.

The place is cute now, a modest building made up of both old and new. There's memorabilia and artifacts from the original restaurant and hotel. Its dining areas are in the style of the original café, with a few rooms you can peer in like at a museum - roped off, with informative plaques. And then there is the modern KFC and drive thru, locals picking up food as if there is nothing noteworthy to see.

The Sanders Café was a nice break from the hustle of driving, making phone calls and moving cardboard boxes. A couple of hours later, we arrived in Louisville. Thankfully, our apartment and the area it is located are both nice and convenient. Just a minute off of a busy intersection with big brands of shopping and eating. We arrived here on Wednesday, and have spent our time since then settling in - juggling unpacking, shopping and resting.

I guess backyards are a thing for me. Growing up, I was spoiled by an endless backdrop of peaceful pine trees. Even if it's not ideal, whatever backyard I happen to end up with, I try to savor now. While living in South Korea, it was a building's rainbow lights and then endless rooftops. Now I proudly introduce our new backyard. It may not look like much, but behind that overgrown brush is a wide, tree-rimmed field. And in the morning, the birds sing, and their sweet sounds are about the only thing we can hear. That's definitely worth some appreciation.

A Glance and a Change

The past seven days have been full of family and a bit of scheming.

Giddiness, wonder, pure contentment. A few words that try to describe what it feels like to hold this sleeping baby.

Besides our countless cell phone photos, we set aside time to try and take some nice pictures of Emmett. I haven't been able to sort through them all yet, but my sister and I are both confident there are several adorable shots. I thought having such a squirmy subject would be a challenge. But throughout our morning photoshoot, my nephew was remarkably calm, rolling about and looking around curiously at his mom, the camera and me.

This week had some scheming and surprise too. Isaac flew into town and I stealthily picked him up from the airport on Wednesday. After arriving home in Columbia, the two of us shared some big news. We are moving to America. To Louisville, Kentucky. Next week.

Although it was a tough secret to keep, it was worth the wait to see the looks of surprise and happiness on my parents' faces. To tell them now, after almost a week of new grandparent bliss.

I'd love to share more about what led up to this moment, but there is just too much left to be done. Packing, planning, finding somewhere to live in a place neither of us has ever visited. Spending more time with family and baby.

It's a new beginning and we are both happy and excited to embrace it. Needless to say, future posts will probably look a bit different. Less Korean and more.. horsey? I'm pretty sure I knew more about Korea before moving there than I do about the state of Kentucky now.

Despite this change, I will continue writing here and sharing about life and fun things we encounter. So please bear with me and my splotchy updates. Once settled down, let's return to learning and considering things new and old. But first, more boxes.

Baby!

How can I even try to write at this moment? Thursday was the kind of day that seems about a week long and yet is over in an instant. A maze of hallways, one hospital room full of beeping and chirping machines, the occasional run to Chickfila for sustenance. Full of almost every emotion that is positive and jittery, my family vented the tense air through a continuous stream of our usual awkward and punny jokes.

The day was full of those vivid and quaint details, like realizing that my sister's nurse went to our high school, we played tennis together. Or wondering the age of those terrible fake flowers in the waiting room (late '90s?).

The window of our room faced west, where a storm front was advancing towards us. Just as little Emmett joined us, a gentle rain began. In the hour following, as my sister was finally able to feel a bit of calm, the sky seemed to reflect our feelings - joy, gratitude, wonder, excitement, relief, impatience for the nurses to bring our little one back!

As the designated photographer, I tried to get creative about taking family photos that no one could get upset about. Like using the window reflection so that we are all blurry.

This whole post must just seem like stalling. So I'll stop. And just proudly introduce little Emmett.

Even more perfect that we imagined.