“OOOH. Look at that one!”

I pointed to the red and gold fireworks exploding above us on the long sandy beach of Yeongdeok, South Korea. Lorenz and I had pitched our tent on a camping platform, next to hundreds of other happy Korean families, squatting around fires on the beach and roasting meat on their traditional barbeques. It was Gaecheonjeol, the Korean national holiday, celebrating the beginning of the Korean people in 2333 BC, by the legendary bear-god, Dangun. For miles, the beach was filled with  excited, running, laughing children, and their parents and grandparents shooting off colorful roman candles above the quiet ocean, sparkling silver under the night moon.

      “You are from America?” the petite, dark haired Korean woman asked Lorenz and me in perfect English as we stood in the central square of Suanbo, gazing in curiosity at the stalls around us—tables set with apple puffs and triangle-shaped, spicy rice-seaweed kimbap; booths with silk paintings and wooden crafts; and in the center, a fountain and stage bustling with dancers dressed in elaborate gold headdresses and purple gowns gathered at the feet.