Sonnets
Sonnets (7/9/17 – 7/17/18) By Zach Winters, ETA ’17-’18/ Photograph by Madeline Kasik 1. Arrival & Departure (7/9/17 – 8/18/17) In ringlets Summer set to bloom, She fathered and dismayed A generation of Herself, Herself from states displayed By tresses, corded Gnomic rock Split snakely from the grass, By Dandelion buds themselves Far inland waked from rest— But then light bent, and then begun that tyrant afternoon, Supplanting, from a sudden move, A miracle of June— And then the spiders and the birds were bathed in tawny sea, And then that August ocean dropped— And drowned stability— 2. Placement & Displacement (8/19/17 – 12/29/17) Will comets fly with light retracing gait? Will comets paint with light the sky above? Will you appear, and leave, and so restate That stronger sadness comes from stronger love? Which love is just, if love reject the pain That deepens when some speechless distance starts, Mere chorus love that joins in bright refrains, But quiets in the time that’s spent apart— Yet love like ours does not simply repeat, And so, to me, this distance is a chance To rediscover you each time we meet, With love not just recurring, but enhanced, And through horrendous space I realize this: I love you more, the more I learn to miss. 3. Pause & Expectation (12/30/17 – 3/4/18) The sweep of time is gentle in its bend Above the sprawling ocean of the years, And as it moves the water turns to tears In blinking eyes which sink and then ascend; And every hand that holds fast to a friend Will tremble as the current lifts and steers A wave that to the shoreline’s borders nears To evidence a time that’s at an end; But as these days speed on with steady haste, Like tides that hurry to the golden strand, This time we have is ours to use and waste While waves erase the traces of our plans— So if time does naught but push us to the sand, Then let us live forever on dry land— 4. (3/5/18 – 7/17/18) Goodbyes are little deaths That hit you on the plane, And only leave you when you cease To need those friends again. Goodbyes are little deaths That wake you from a dream, When all you wanted was to lie In waking ecstasy— Somewhere I heard goodbye Means learning how to miss, But everything I ever learned Could not prepare for this For everything I ever learned Was rearranged by this Zach Winters is a 2017-2018 ETA at Jeju Jungang Girls’ High School in Jeju city, Jeju-do.
Volume 11, Issue 2
The Infusion staff is happy to announce the publication of our newest issue, Volume 11, Issue 2 (Published June 2018). Below you can find the web edition of the issue. To access individual pieces from this issue, use the links at the bottom of the webpage. Enjoy. [ezcol_1half] Foreword Letter from the Executive Director Letter from the Minister-Counselor 故土 [고토: Homeland (Ancient Ground)] [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] How to Eat Rainbow Play-Doh The Way Home Marked Deck Photos: Volume 11.2 [/ezcol_1half_end]
Foreword
By Rachel Youngeun Rostad, ETA ’17-’18, Editor-in-Chief of Infusion ’17-’18 To the Fulbright community— Since the beginning of the grant year, July 2018 has felt like the end of the world to me. Not in the apocalyptic sense, but in the sense of old seafarers’ charts, where the edges of the known universe disappear into mist. There, cartographers would draw sea monsters, dragons, and fantastical creatures, a metaphor for the dangers of unexplored territory. In July, we will all be crossing that boundary from the known into the unknown. Whether we’re leaving Korea or staying, this summer marks a time of transition. Fulbright Korea is in for a change as well; Director Jai Ok Shim is retiring at the end of 2018, an occasion we honor in our feature about her retirement. How fitting is it, then, that this volume is so rich with contributions from those on the Other Side—those who made it beyond the end of the world, and now send us missives back from the frontier. In addition to alumni submissions for Director Shim’s feature, we have two pieces by former grantees. In “The Way Home” by Bijou Nguyen, a medical student’s elderly Korean patient brings back vivid memories of her grant year. In “How to Eat Rainbow Play-Doh,” Charles Nelson IV reflects on his marriage to a fellow ETA, and how their time in Korea still has a powerful effect on them today. In a series of poems, “Ancient Ground,” current grantee Spencer Lee Lenfield explores five vivid images that linger in the mind like pressed flowers. “Marked Deck,” by Rebecca Brower and Gwangeun Cho, tells the story of a student with a knack for magic tricks, providing a glimpse into a unique school for North Korean defectors. We’re also pleased to include student work, selected by Fulbright Open Window Student Editors, Gaeun Han, Sooyeon Ko, and Hyeongdo Lee. This issue of Infusion wouldn’t exist without the support of current grantees, alumni, and KAEC. In order to ameliorate budget cuts, we ran two fundraisers, raising over 1,200 USD, most of which came from the alumni community. I’ve so enjoyed getting to interact with alumni through the Kickstarter and our feature on Director Shim. From our correspondence and reading their stories and notes, I know that when we leave Korea next month (or next year, or the next), we will be joining the ranks of an enthusiastic, caring, and inspiring community. Though I’m sailing into new seas, and there may indeed be monsters, I feel much braver knowing that I’m following in the wake of all those who came before me.