When the four women get together

Four women, each from a different region of Korea—Gyeongsang-do, Jeolla-do, Chungcheong-do, and Seoul—were excited, laughing so loudly the car almost shook. No wonder—we were off on a 2-night, 3-day trip, leaving our husbands behind at home to cook for themselves.

One friend had bought a house 20 years ago near the Connecticut River, about two hours north of Manhattan. It had an indoor pool, so we even packed swimsuits. Normally, we meet once a month, but the conversations barely get going before we have to say goodbye and go home to take care of our husbands. This time, we decided to stretch out on the floor, let loose, and talk until we’d said it all.

Even though it was lightly raining, we were happy. We stopped at a rest area, sipped coffee while looking out the window, and for a moment we fell quiet, watching the autumn leaves tumble around in the rain—just like us, blown around by life. But our chatter picked right back up and didn’t stop until we got to the house, sat around a big table, and laid out all the food we’d brought to share.

As if we had rehearsed it, we each took turns talking—one at a time. Despite the stereotype that people from Chungcheong-do are slow, our friend from there is the fastest and most energetic of us all. She always walks ahead and is our unofficial leader.

Our friend from Gyeongsang-do is hardworking and outgoing. She supports the leader and makes our gatherings run smoothly. The friend from Jeolla-do still speaks with a strong regional accent, even after living in America for over 30 years. Her way of speaking is warm and fun—it made everything livelier. Her dialect reminded us of home, of our childhood days running around in the Korean countryside.

We laughed until we cried, were shocked by some of the more serious stories, and before we knew it, hours had passed. Then we moved to the swimming pool—not to swim, really, but to keep talking. With our heads close together, we kept chatting even as we shivered in the cold water. Amazing how long we could talk in there!

At dinner, with wine in hand, the stories continued. By the end, our voices were hoarse and raspy. Even so, we stayed up talking until 3 a.m., only going to bed when we couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Our conversations weren’t filled with complaints about mothers-in-law, gossip about husbands, or bragging about our kids. And we definitely didn’t talk badly about other friends.

Instead, the Jeolla-do friend said—in her thick accent that I was now getting used to:

“So basically, what we were talking about is how we’ve lived such busy lives, and now that we’re older, how can we live well—without being a burden, staying healthy, and enjoying what’s left of our lives together. So we said, enough with all the nonsense. Let’s just live true to our hearts, and when it’s time to go, let’s go quick and clean, no regrets. That’s all we were saying, you know?”