The questions nostalgia asks

The author revisits Bongcheon-dong, a neighborhood in Seoul that holds deep childhood memories, now facing redevelopment. This return prompts a reflection on the nature of memory itself, as the author attempts to reconstruct the past, including their parents' story and the sensory details of their old home and alleyways.

“

Memory is imperfect, and even if it is fictional, it ultimately speaks to the relationship that the childhood me had with this place.

This exploration is not just an exercise in historical accuracy but a journey into the subjective experience of memory. The author acknowledges that memories are imperfect, often distorted, and constantly reconfigured. However, they come to understand that the veracity of these memories is less important than the relationship they represent between the child and the place. This process serves as a temporary escape from the anxieties of the present.

“

When I walk through the place, the memories that come to mind are different, the circumstances before and after are different, and the emotions at the time are also different.

Walking through the transformed neighborhood, the author encounters both comforting and painful memories. The site of a childhood hair salon, 'Sook Hair Salon,' evokes complex feelings of fear and loneliness, stemming from perceived physical differences and the experience of being left with strangers. Yet, upon discussing these memories with their mother, the author learns about the constant care and closeness they shared, reframing the salon as a place of significant, albeit forgotten, nurturing.

“

I am grateful for the care that I do not remember, in front of the hair salon now.

Further reflections bring back images of their young father at a chicken restaurant and the stark reality of their paternal grandfather's isolation. The author also recalls the small, humble home where they first lived, a place filled with the dreams of their parents for a better future. Drawing on Svetlana Boym's distinction between "restorative" and "reflective" nostalgia, the author suggests that by acknowledging the gap between past and present, nostalgia can become a driving force for the future, prompting questions about why a better future seems elusive and where the abundant care of the past has gone.

“

When we acknowledge the gap between the past and the present, and contemplate the differences between then and now, nostalgia is not a regression towards the past but a driving force for the future.