한국국제교류재단

If someone asked me about my travels around Eurasia for 20 days and 19 nights, I would say that every moment was a battle. This feeling is not exclusive to me; staff members who worked on each part of the tour probably felt the same way. Everybody fought through the hardships of their respective roles, every event proceeded successfully and audience members went home moved and delighted. I’ll never forget the vodka and the sounds of the train that eased my nerves when we hit the road after concluding yet another show.
 On July 14, after completing their performance for the tour’s opening ceremony at Seoul Station, members of the Korean traditional music group Sorigae headed for Incheon International Airport. Their shoulders sagged with the weight of responsibility and expectations that surrounded a grand project to commemorate 70 years of Korean liberty.
 Arriving in Vladivostok, we split into two teams and held respective performances at the Yi Sang-seol memorial and the Goryeo People’s Culture Center in Ussuriysk, finishing our tour’s first event. Stage conditions at the Yi Sang-seol memorial, however, were less than ideal. They were so bad, in fact, that I started wishing for some sort of miracle to happen— but we had to overcome a language barrier by gesturing to the Russian staff with our hands and feet, barely managing to throw things together before the show started. The result, however, was a fantastic success. The audience was thrilled to hear Sorigae play Korean traditional melodies, responding with continuous cheers and applause.
 Thus, we kicked off our Eurasian tour according to plan. After our initial performance at Vladivostok Railway Station, we toured the following locales: the Theatre of Musical Comedy in Khabarovsk, a Eurasian festival in Irkutsk, an outdoor stage in Lenin Square in Novorossiysk, Yekaterinburg, Moscow, and Berlin. Overcoming a special set of challenges with every new city, we completed our slightly rough tour with success.
 After our performance at the Theatre of Musical Comedy in Khabarovsk, audience members crowded with us in the lobby for an impromptu dance session. As we wrapped up our dance party and started heading out, an elderly lady over 70 years old approached us. Speaking in slightly broken Korean, she did her best to express herself while tears streamed down her cheeks.
 “I was so moved. I may have been born and raised in Russia, but I’m actually Korean. A long time ago, my grandfather was forced to move out here and start a new life, and so both my father and I were raised here. I’m over 70 years old now, so I don’t have much time left. Listening to your music seemed to relieve the pain of the past. I’ve lived a painful and hard life. I’ve spent all my days being treated as an outsider and a second-class citizen. But now that we have so many great Korean musicians here in Russia, all at once, who introduce Russians to Korean music and culture, look at all the standing ovations and applause you get! Witnessing such a sight makes me cry. I felt pride and self-respect for the first time. Thank you so much. Thank you for coming to Russia and blessing us with your music.”
 It was as if we’d been faced with Korea’s painful modern history in a single moment. The look of such pain in the lady’s eyes is something we as Koreans need to remember as we continue to confront our past.
 I sincerely hope that the hope we tried to convey on our Eurasian tour spreads around the world and relieves the immeasurable pain and sadness felt by ethnic Koreans abroad, just as seeds of laughter eventually sprout into great beauty. Mun Jeong-su
Stage Director