*
Back then, whenever I felt lonely and whenever times were tough, I thought of my grandmother. I would mumble the old stories we used to recite to each other, first speaking in my voice and then switching to hers. I would hear Luna’s light snores, and toss and turn in bed for a while before sending my spirit afloat. The more often I did this, the more clearly I was able to see my body lying below.
I would float up a little and look down at my body, curled on its side. I could see Luna’s body too, and everything in the room. I would float higher as darkness closed around me and the white path appeared. It was always the same up to that point:
I take a few steps down the path, and Chilsung’s white fur appears. As always, he is wagging his tail.
Chilsung-ah! I need to talk to Grandmother.
Okay, Bari. She’s waiting for you.
Chilsung turns around and leads the way, glancing back at me now and then. I float behind him, along the dazzlingly white path. At the top of a hill shrouded in smoke-like wisps of fog, or maybe clouds, stands a tall, octagonal pavilion supported by stone steps. Wide, round pillars hold the heavy roof aloft. Grandmother waves at me from inside the pavilion.
Our little Bari! You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?
No, I’m okay.
It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far. But there’s still a long way to go. Look down there.
Grandmother stands at the railing and points. The white cloud-like things part, and just visible below are fields and mountains and rivers and a city.
Where is that?
That’s where you live. You must have met people from all over the world by now.
Yes, all kinds of people.
Bari, have you figured it out yet? I tried to warn you when I was telling you those old stories. I told you the path you’re on would bring you to a great many people who would ask for your help. And they’ll keep asking why they must suffer.
Yes, and you told me that Princess Bari travelled to the otherworld to find out.
That’s right, which means you need to be ready with an answer.
I won’t know that until I’ve been to the otherworld.
Once you’ve been there, you’ll be able to help all of them.
Even though we speak different languages and look different and come from different places?
Grandmother smiles, her wrinkles squeezing together.
Of course. The world and every person in it — we’re all the same. We’re all lacking and sick and stupid and greedy.
I feel for them, I say.
Bari, I’m so proud of you! It’s when you learn to empathize that the answer comes to you.
Grandmother waves her hand again, and the cloud-like things blanket the pavilion in white.
Now you’ll marry the jangseung. You’ll have to search for the life-giving water while you’re living with him.
Grandma, do other people have ancestral spirits like me?
Of course. They’re everywhere. All souls are washed from muddy to clean. I have to go now. It’s time for you to go, too.
I fly out of the pavilion like a puff of smoke on the breeze. The clouds or fog surround me, and there is Chilsung again, wagging his tail on the path that I came down earlier. No sooner am I back, floating near the ceiling of my bedroom and looking down at myself, than my spirit returns to my body and my eyes open. The dark branches of trees are visible through the window.
*
I think it was the afternoon of my third day at Ali’s flat. We were sitting at the table when he suddenly leaned over and kissed me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and he laughed and copied me. He wouldn’t stop snickering. I didn’t know what was so funny about it.
“What’re you laughing at?” I asked.
“What a baby you are,” he said and laughed again.
“Don’t copy me.”
Then suddenly he swept me up in his arms and lay me down on the bed. Huh, I thought, he probably assumed I’d put up a fight. I lay there like a doll, my arms and legs limp. When Ali lay down next to me, the bed felt like it was caving in. He tried to touch my breast, but I brushed his hand away. I was embarrassed because it reminded me of how that fat woman, the pimp at the Chinatown brothel I’d been taken to when I first arrived, had examined my body and laughed at my flat chest. But then I realized what Ali wanted. He pulled his shirt off and tried to unbuckle my belt. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back, and then I undid my own belt and slid out of my trousers. He did the same. When he took off my underwear, I lay still. I was naked. His chest, arms and legs — nearly his entire body — were covered with dark hair. I wondered, stupidly: Does eating all that lamb make people grow wool?
When he pushed inside of me, it hurt so much that my hair stood on end and my spirit nearly left my body. For a moment I saw a woman with her hair covered by a white hijab, two little girls and an old man with a beard and a long tunic standing in a row next to the bed.
That weekend, Ali and I went to see Grandfather Abdul. We were going because I wanted to; Ali was very taken aback at first by the suggestion, but when he heard why, he pursed his lips and thought for a long time with his head down. Then he nodded and agreed. I explained: “You and I are different from Westerners. I don’t know your customs, but where I come from, women don’t just sleep with a man they aren’t planning to marry. I’ve decided that I’m going to be your wife.”
I learned something awful later. In his family’s home country, daughters and sisters like me who gave their virginity away without their parents’ permission could be beaten to death by their fathers and older brothers, and no one would say a thing about it. When we walked into Grandfather Abdul’s flat together looking nervous, he frowned but didn’t ask us what was wrong. I realized belatedly that he was waiting for us to say something first, so I reached back and pinched Ali on the butt. He let out a small yelp, shot me a look and then quickly explained why we were there.
“Um, I, uh, want to marry Bari.”
I wanted to yelclass="underline" You idiot! You can’t just blurt it out like that! But instead I looked at him and scowled.
“Do you feel the same way, Bari?”
I couldn’t bring myself to answer the question out loud, so I just nodded, my head hanging down. Grandfather Abdul looked at us from over his reading glasses.
“Bari, come sit down. Ali, give us some space.”
“Where do you want me to go?”
“Boy, what do I care? Just go down to the pub and get a beer or something! It doesn’t matter. But be back in an hour!”
Ali jumped up and hurried out the door. Grandfather Abdul and I were alone. I perched on the edge of a chair across from where he sat.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“I’m eighteen this year.”
“That’s young. But then again, when I was your age people got married even younger than that. However, we are also Muslims who believe in God. Muslims are supposed to marry other Muslims, even though not everyone sticks to that these days. Do you really like Ali?”