The Magical Language of Others by E. J. Koh

Author:E. J. Koh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tin House Books
Published: 2019-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

Jeju Island was the least private place she had ever known. An island with a plentitude of rocks, wind, and women. Matriarchal, she had heard, throughout centuries, and led by haenyeo, Sea Women. In home-knitted wet suits, girded with knives, Sea Women dove thirty meters below the black waves. Once they descended, they were neither saved nor called upon to return. For three minutes, Sea Women were beyond human. They lived practically underwater, each body muscled and tough. They kicked their pale legs, trailing their ponytails like fins on their heads, and surfaced a bounty they had harvested for the islanders to sell, trade, and cook: abalone, conch, octopi, oysters, sea urchins, and more. Lauded for holding air inside their cells, for their litheness of movement, detailed orientation, eyes unblinking in the violent sea, softer fats with higher thresholds in cold water, and hearts suited for the dive, they crested above water and into the golden shawl of the sun as deities. Sea Women married men who gave them girls for diving.

Kumiko wondered how she could fit in with them. When had she last held her breath? Her toes split open when she trod on volcanic rocks. The other girls, as young as eleven, submerged themselves into icy waters. The men’s faces were the color of boiled chicken after forgoing meals to feed their broad-shouldered, lean-muscled wives and daughters. When the girls crowded the dirt roads, they raced one another to the reefs. Their shirts hung around their waists, and their dark-haired backs, tanned bodies stirred intimidation into the islanders, at once powerless and proud, as one might feel peering into the dark water or the black eyes of children.

Kumiko and her parents were welcomed. Nobody could say why exactly. Her family name would change when she married another islander. Her children would be descendants of one of three ancient founders: Koh, Bu, and Yang. The islanders also remembered her parents from a long time ago, remembered their mothers and fathers. Kumiko learned, through the islanders, the measure of what generosity ought to be.

Kumiko loved the islanders. They were different from the people of Ueno, who put on a show of ignorance to save face, and the faces of others, out of prudence. Chastisement was subtle: a frown, a gaze. Some might have preferred it if they were told it was a righteous upbringing. On Jeju Island, mothers publicly embraced fathers, a normally sacred contact between lovers. Kumiko preferred the wildness of the islanders. Their faces showed the contempt of empty nets. Their eyes cut into her. Their slick words and heavy fists. They never let Kumiko wonder where she stood with them. They taught her how to talk over the roar of the sea. They shouted at her, kissed her, scolded her, praised her, and the whole island, together, expected the world of her—to see, to know, and to provide.

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