Korean

Dawn at the hospital in April: congratulations and it's a girl, is my wife all right, both are healthy and three kilos two hundred, come in and she has your nose, born an hour ago and Eli has cried twice, she came after ten hours and hold her, send the photo and nobody has slept since two, and Ha-eun, as they decided.

Mrs. Park on the ward with a pot: I brought seaweed soup and have it three times a day, I didn't sleep because I was busy watching Ha-eun, and Su-a and did you eat, feeding her I didn't eat, eat it while it's hot and it's good for the milk, where is Mr. Kim, still busy finding a parking space, and Grandma has been cooking since dawn, she says.

The postpartum care centre, a fortnight's stay: welcome and the mothers' rooms are on the third floor, fathers may sleep here, please wash your hands and put on a gown, the feeding times are on the board, and the massage at three, seaweed soup at every meal, can Grandma see her too, in visiting hours through the glass, and two weeks then home.

The first night at home with Grandma up from Jeonju: why are you up and the baby's asleep, I'm afraid she'll wake, for three weeks only family comes and that's the old rule, Min-jun is family too but hands washed first, I'm afraid I'll drop her in the bath, hold her like a bowl of hot soup, I'm afraid I'll never sleep again, and sleep when she sleeps.

The community service centre in May: I've come to report a birth, the birth report and the full name in Hangul, Ha-eun and the characters are here, the father's full name and leave the family seat blank, Brooks Eli and the surname is the father's, the date and time of birth, April at ten past four in the morning, the reporter's signature goes here and within the month, and two copies to hand in at the embassy.

The paediatric clinic in May: three weeks and four days old, up as much as seven hundred grams, height fifty-three and up as much as three centimetres, today's vaccination goes in the booklet, next at two months, she cries at night as many as three times, three is normal and does she sleep in the day, as much as five hours, then the father sleeps too.

A photo studio in May: for a passport photo eyes open and mouth closed, hold her so that she doesn't move, she's asleep right now, wake her so that she opens her eyes, hands out so that only the face shows, I'll hold her from behind so that my hands don't show, don't make her laugh, she's one month old and does what she likes, and this one, two countries so six copies.

A notary's office in May, Su-a's own translation of the birth certificate: who did the translation, I did and I'm a translator at a publishing house, then the translator's declaration is attached, your ID and the original please, when is it issued, it's issued today, is an apostille needed too, a notarised translation is accepted as it is, and two copies are made and the originals are returned.

The kitchen table the night before the embassy: let's check whether everything's there, the certificate and whether it's notarised, whether the passport is still valid and three years left, did you put the marriage certificate in too, whether the photo is the right size, whether both must go and yes both, whether it rains or not Mr. Kim will drive them, whether they're on time is up to the road, and with him you're always on time.

The embassy on a morning in May: number twelve and the application please, both passports please, in case a document is missing come again, is proof that I lived in America needed too, in that case school records do too, and the baby's passport, in case you travel this year do them together, in case your address changes contact us, and now the papers of two countries are all done.

July at Incheon airport, Eli's parents have landed and Eli relays everything: Mom asks where the baby is, at home and say she's asleep, Dad asks whether four bags fit, even six fit and put them in, she isn't tired and wants to see the baby, tell her forty minutes to Mangwon, Dad suggests a coffee on the way, and the coffee is at home.

Dinner at the Kims' with Eli's parents and Eli as the interpreter: tell them to eat a lot, she tells me to ask whether it's the stall's kimchi, say it's a taste sixty years old, he says he wants to ask what this is, mung-bean pancake and I'll pack some for him, tomorrow Grandma will take them to the market herself, my parents say it's an honour to meet you, and the honour is ours.

Grandma sorts out who is what to Ha-eun: what are your parents to her, her grandmother and grandfather on the father's side, Ji-yeong is Su-a's friend so an aunt, then Min-jun is her uncle, Grandma is the great-grandmother by heart, Mrs. Park is a grandmother too, Eli's parents and Grandma are in-laws, and Ha-eun has four grandmothers.

Mrs. Park's stall with Eli's parents: this is Eli's father, he came to look round and to say hello, kimchi too and it bursts on the plane, she asks how the radish kimchi is made, tell her to come to learn and to help, the baby stays with Grandma to sleep and to play, my father says he'll buy it all, and tell him it isn't for sale, it's free.

Grandma and Mrs. Park plan the hundredth day: to set a hundred-day table you need white rice cake, I'll order the rice cake and it's shared with a hundred people, to find a hundred people you'd need the whole market, seaweed soup for Su-a like on the first day, my parents say they want to bring something, tell them to bring themselves, to take the photo we have to book, and to do it right listen to Grandma.

Ha-eun's hundredth day at the Kims' table: grow strong, thank you for coming to the hundredth day, a hundred days and not one sick day, one glass to Ha-eun, my parents hope she'll be happy in both countries, cut the rice cake and share it out, everyone behind the table, and I hope only we remember all of it.

Mr. Kim drives the grandparents round the Seoul Eli used to live in: that's the room you used to live in, he asks where the path I used to run on is, the noodle place we used to go to has closed, the school where I used to teach and I still teach there, where you used to walk and where you proposed, he wants a photo right there, the meter's off because it's family, and she asks whether you always talk this much.

Vice-principal Oh's office in July: what brings you, I intend to apply for childcare leave, until when, from August to January, a substitute teacher takes them, I'll hand the plans over by the end of July, are you back for the science fair, yes I intend to be back, and bring the baby once.

The first morning of Eli's leave, a notice for the studio door and Ha-eun's timetable: scheduled to reopen in November, the Saturday class is cancelled too, write that the paid months carry over, feed at nine and nap at ten and walk at eleven, the father is scheduled to sleep when she sleeps, Min-jun is scheduled to come at noon, Su-a is back at six and the deadline is today, and a good plan, though the baby hasn't read it.

The ticket window at Seoul Station: Gangneung, nine adults and one infant, infants are free without a seat, seats facing each other for the family, two four-seat tables and one seat more, the two elders by the window facing forward, one way or return, return and Tuesday afternoon, on the app or printed, and printed because it has to go to Grandma.

Seoul Station on an August morning, ten of them and a pram: platform seven and car five at the back, passengers for Gangneung please board, Dad asks where the pram goes, fold it and there's a shelf at the end of the car, Grandma's is the forward-facing window seat, the doors you get off by are on the left, nobody missing, and Dad is at the coffee stand.

The KTX east out of Seoul with Grandma, Su-a and Ha-eun: the further east the more mountains, Mom says the more she looks the more Ha-eun looks like Eli, the longer the tunnel the better she sleeps, in the old days six hours by bus, the more Eli hears the more he likes this train, the hungrier she is the louder, a baby who cries loud is a healthy baby, and the mountains end at Gangneung.

Gangneung station in August, the guesthouse owner with her van: the family of ten with the baby, yes and a pram, the van takes nine and the rest go by taxi, a ground-floor room for the two elders, the ground floor is by the sea and quiet on top of that, a cot and a baby bath on top of that, and breakfast at eight is soft tofu, and free on top of that.

Gyeongpo beach at noon in August, Ha-eun's feet in the East Sea: Min-jun almost dropped the parasol in the sea, Dad almost walked in with his shoes on, Mom almost cried when her feet went in, the wave almost got the pram, sunscreen on her at twelve, Dad asks whether the water is always this cold, in August it's warm so try it, and Eli almost believed him.

A tofu restaurant in Chodang at lunchtime: how many, ten and a baby and a floor room for the elders, what will it be, soft tofu stew ten portions and five of them mild, the tofu here is set with sea water, Mom asks whether the mild one has meat, only tofu and the side dishes are refilled, two tofu ice creams made small, and one portion on the house for the baby.

The coffee street on Anmok beach, ten minutes without the family: let's at least have one coffee by the sea, Gangneung beans, one iced and a decaf at least, ten minutes at least and just the two of them, Ji-yeong texts that Grandma asks whether they're bringing her something, a bun at least from next door, the bread is from the bakery next door, then one of each at least.

Ojukheon in Gangneung on an August afternoon, the house of a mother and her scholar son: this house is worth seeing, Dad says the garden alone is worth the trip, the mother is on the fifty-thousand note and her son on the five-thousand, Mom asks whether the black bamboo is real, it's real and the house is named after it, her first history lesson, this shade is worth sitting in, and a good mother is worth more than a scholar.

Jeongdongjin before dawn in August, the station nearest the sea: as soon as the sun comes up everyone claps, Dad got up as soon as the alarm rang, this station is the nearest to the sea, as soon as they arrived Ha-eun fell asleep, as soon as it's up the sea turns gold, Mom says as soon as she lands she wants to come back, as soon as they're back it's breakfast and soft tofu again, and the sun is rising.

Departures at Incheon airport at the end of August, the grandparents flying home: Mom says she'll send the hats so send photos, tell her we'll call every week so don't cry, tell them the kimchi will be waiting so come at Chuseok, Dad says he'll get the room ready so come for the first birthday, rice cakes are packed so no airport food, they both say thank you, she'll be walking by then so practise, and the plane's at five so hug now.

A September morning in the flat by the river, a call from a radio station: the morning show wants a science corner, me and in Korean and on the radio, five minutes on Wednesdays at eight and live, do it and Su-a will hold her, then Eli has decided to try, Wednesday it is and it's a promise, and if he gets a word wrong on air, the listeners will like it even more.