Dating : Modern Love Chronicles

Modern Love Chronicles

January 1, 2020. Beomkyu [Kevin] receives an official notification. He has 15 days to return to his homeland and register in the compulsory military service. Otherwise, the next time he steps on South Korean territory he will be handcuffed at the airport and sent directly to jail. Kevin spent years trying to avoid this situation, but his deadline had come at last. We ended our relationship after 4 incredible years, days after he parted from Japan to Seoul.

Early March 2020. From now on, his only contact with the world will be a weekly call to his mother. All newcomers must complete a ‘basic training’ for 4 weeks before being transferred to the battalion where they will remain for 18 months. During that time, Kevin will learn to use weapons, he will be trapped in smoke bombs, he must quickly obey orders and understand the established hierarchy, he will follow strict schedules and there will be no privacy as he will be constantly in a group. You cannot bring personal items to this camp, not even your own underwear; the only possessions you have during that time are the ones provided by them. Theoretically, trainees can receive emails (which they can only read when allowed) but this special app only works if the person sending the message resides in Korea.

I have never had such a strange emotional experience. It was as if Kevin disappeared overnight and reappeared silently in another dimension. I knew that he was alive, somewhere in a distant place, and that a friend could send messages from time to time. However, after looking at my “sent” mailbox full of dozens of unanswered messages and more than a month without having heard back from him, the feeling that he is no longer with me in this world, negative thoughts and worry, overwhelmed me. Still, you stay strong, remembering that you are outside and enjoy all the freedoms that this person is being deprived of.

COVID-19. The WHO declares that a global pandemic has officially been unleashed. Endless uncertainties arise: Has this disease entered the barracks? Are the soldiers safe? They close borders, I cannot return to my country of origin. Now what do I do?

Due to life circumstances I ended up taking refuge in the house of one of Kevin’s relatives in Japan. Talking with the relative about him in the past tense reinforces the idea of ​​his disappearance. Sleeping in his old room filled with his possessions emphasizes his absence. It is a feeling similar to the one I felt the first days after my grandmother ⁠ — whom I grew up with⁠ — passed away. Perhaps because in the context of the 21st century it is difficult for the mind to assimilate the lack of contact.

April 10, 2020 at night. After another day of confinement, I received a call with the code +82. I ran to the room and picked up. It was him. As tears rolled down my cheeks, he described what had become of him these past few weeks. Apparently due to the pandemic the basic training was not intense and once finished, because of his English skills and excellent behavior, he was transferred to a special division near Seoul where he would meet a Venezuelan.

– A Venezuelan? — I said surprised.

– Yes, well, he’s half Venezuelan, half Korean from his father’s side. Do you wanna talk to him?

– Yes, put him on

…

– Hello Elisa, my name is Chang. I’m from Zulia. It’s Kevin’s first day in the battalion. When he found out that I am from Venezuela, he approached me and told me about his trip to Caracas and when he first saw the beautiful Caribbean sea in La Guaira and Los Roques. He told me a lot about you too.

– Good, what a joy, I have no words. Could you explain to me, how did you end up in the South Korean Defense Command?

– I was born and raised in Venezuela. Three years ago I came to Korea to meet my father’s family and learn Korean. Because I have dual citizenship, I was told that I had to serve in order to keep my passport. I looked for all the ways to escape from this reality, but it was impossible for me. The options were to either enlist or return to Venezuela.

– Wow. This is too crazy. What are the chances of this happening?

– Well, you know that anything can be expected from a Venezuelan.

After repeatedly thanking Chang for his kindness and asking him to keep an eye on Kevin, I said goodbye and still in shock called my family and friends to tell them.

That last conversation reminded me of the candor of home, the camaraderie between Venezuelans and our open culture. Also how our positive actions change lives and we are all able to share the light we have inside with others, even in the smallest detail. In short, this world is full of connections that surprise us when we least expect it.

Written by Elisa T. Ovalles V.
Edited by María José Ovalles & Victoria Smith