I was able to travel around the world, thanks to my job in the military. The first duty station I was attached to was in South Korea, and to this day, I miss the country. The people were kind; the food was terrific. The job was meh, but the culture is unforgettable. I was able to travel around the shores of Jeju Island, shoot arrows in a park in Osan, and visit a temple in the mountains. I celebrated Mudfest and the cherry blossom in Gunsan, all while absorbing the new culture presented to me. It was in South Korea, where I experienced my first slow snowfall. It was a quiet night while I was walking home back from work, where I looked up at the cloudy sky only to feel a fluff of cold hit my left eye. After the initial panic of thinking it might have been a bat poop, I put my hand out to see the smallest of white powder melt on top of my hand. After opening my mouth to the sky and letting snowfall in, I decided that I’m not too fond of the cold.
I traveled again to my next station in Europe and ended up in jolly ole England. At this time of my life, I was a twenty-two year old military man with the ability to drink again. Let’s say I lived my life immensely wild and carefree at that time. I remember I trekked around, and in one of my TDY or training, I ended up in Ramstein, Germany. After work, I did what the Germans do, drink all the beer. Then my travels threw me to Spain, and I have never fallen in love with a country as hard as I did with Spain. The food, the music, the architecture, the nightlife, the heat, everything was great. I went to multiple festivals and bullfights, but what caught my attention was how blood-hungry humans are in a sport, which made me think: Is this type of activity of man vs. beast embedded in us, or is this learned?
Curiosity got the best of me and birthed my interest in human nature and culture. As I continue to travel through Europe, I noticed little quirks of different philosophies and how others act towards sport, political views, especially how one treats tourists and locals. My snooping brought me to a book store, and as I was searching history books, I came to a funny thought, “culture learned as a child, comes from storybooks or by education from the parent. I wonder what stories shaped this part of the world.” From then on out, I began renting and buying children storybooks and their translation, I became obsessed with legends and myths, and it helped me understand humans by filling gaps in what I think are essential aspects to shape a mind. Stories of boogeymen, heroes, and monsters help develop the imagination of children who, in turn, unconsciously follow a distinct set of unspoken rules that come from old legends and stories!
Now I know why I do not go under bridges crossing a river, I know that a white-dressed maiden won’t jump out of the water and drown me; or stand at a crossroad at night for the devil will appear. I will never follow a rabbit to the forest or disturb a fairy ring. I get nervous when it’s a full moon out, or when I hear cries of a woman or a baby in the forest, I know those are animals. I recognize the Chupacabra or el Cuco won’t be waiting for me if I enter a jungle, but believe me when I say I’m not in it to find out. Thanks, granddad, for telling me myths and legends about all the bad things that can eat me in the ocean and forest; my psychiatrist will thank you.
K.Rivera Author page 