rinse the cabbage,
it’s raw and needs
a trim. with your
halmoni’s tender
touch, massage salt
gently into its pores,
passively but not until
it smarts; now, under some
strain, let the water
run over. ignore the
corners that escape
baptism. bring in the
cacophony of flavours –
saccharine sugar, acrid
garlic, sharp ginger, the
harsh lashes of gochu
garu, less a conversation
but a festering; pack the
crowd tight in a
traditional clay jar;
watch it ferment.
the prickling has never
tasted so sour.
Jonathan Chan is an undergraduate at the University of Cambridge reading English. Born to a Malaysian father and Korean mother in the United States, Jonathan was raised in Singapore and sees his cultural tapestry manifest in his writing. He has recently been moved by the writing of Marilynne Robinson, Joan Didion, and Shūsaku Endō. His mind is preoccupied with questions of theology, love, and human expression.
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