The international market moved me. In 1950, on a winter night in Xingnan Port, you carried your sister on your back and pushed forward in the crowd of tens of thousands of refugees. The U.S. ships are still waiting for you. The sound of artillery fire in the distance is getting closer and closer. There are cries and desperate faces everywhere. Dad's powerful hand has finally dissipated. In that year, the motherland was a torn peninsula, a northern homeland that could not be turned back, a war in which aliens shouted bright slogans to restore justice, death and unyielding, and the remaining sleeves of my sister who was clenched in her hand. In 1953, at the Busan International Market, you were a teenager who polished shoes with a partner to supplement the household. The war finally stopped, and my mother said that because you are the elder brother, you are all the hope. In that year, the motherland was poor and devastated, it was the neighbors who were struggling to survive, it was the chocolate that was dog-legged from the American soldiers, and it was the countless refugees, shops and cans in the international market. . In 1964, you were the sweaty porter at the dock and the eldest son who took on the burden of the entire family. Your younger brother was admitted to Seoul University, and you decided to go to Europe to be part of the tens of thousands of South Korean miners exported to West Germany. That year, the motherland was the place where the "Miracle of the Han River" began to sprout, the young force that urgently needed foreign exchange savings for economic take-off, the blood and tears of countless compatriots in a foreign country, the deep-seated nostalgia standing on the banks of the Rhine that came to my heart, and the sight of it as soon as I looked back. The beloved girl who arrived. In 1973, you were a good son and a good husband who returned to your homeland and started a family. However, in order to collect her sister's dowry and keep her aunt's grocery store, she finally gave up the coveted college admission letter, and went to a distant place again, on the battlefield of another country called Vietnam. In that year, the motherland was a distant and stable existence outside the flames of war, it was the step towards modernization with its head held high, it was the shadow of authoritarianism on the eve of the democratic transition, it was the responsibility in life that could not be relieved of the younger brothers and sisters, and the cruelty to his wife that he could not explain to himself. , is the home to go back to even if one leg is crippled. In the summer of 1983, you were the older brother of a KBS TV show who was screaming for his lost sister. 138 days of live broadcasts, more than 50,000 separated families, and more than 10,000 reunions. You and your nation have not lost the courage to wait after the most tragic parting of life and death in decades. In that year, the motherland was tears, countless yellowing pains, vague memories of chasing and running around in the village yard in childhood, and this movie where I finally came back after I met my sister and knelt down to my mother to say goodbye. The land is a dignity that cannot be broken even by the ravages of history and man-made disasters. You are finally getting old, and you are full of children and grandchildren. You and your wife are sitting on the rooftop on the top floor, squinting slightly, looking at this man you have fought for. City, looking to this piece of comfort and prosperity. You still keep thinking of the North, the still imprisoned country in which your father may still live. You cried, you said that this life is so tired, so tired, Dad, I really miss you. The road is difficult, there are many difficulties in life, you are really weak. Perhaps how many times have been thrown away by history, humiliated by the nation, and fooled by lies. Maybe the patience is too long, whether it is for the country or the individual, it is so difficult to move in the right direction in the endless temptation. But I hope that no matter how many times you fall, you can still get up, in this place where you have given your youth and dreams all your life. Every inch of its suffering has your commitment, every inch of its pride has your company, it is worthy of your heart and mind, its rise and freedom are your uncompromising and unyielding flowers blooming, it is a flower that you will not Abandoned, no matter how long you leave, you will come back, you can be proud of your chest, it is soft and generous - the place that can be called the motherland. Perhaps it is an extravagant wish. May many wandering souls in this world be like you. No matter how far and lonely they have traveled, there will eventually be a motherland to embrace. WeChat account: movie_jimigao
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