Lee Jae-in went in first.
While Hoon was in Korea looking for the first person, Lee Jae-in returned to Kayapa. He was alone. Just a backpack and a tool bag. He greeted Elder Armando and entered the basin. From that day on, he dug the soil with his bare hands.
When Hoon arrived ten days later, Lee Jae-in was already driving survey stakes into the flat ground deep within the basin. He was covered in dirt. He was sunburned. He looked even thinner.
“You’re here?”
That was his greeting. Hoon looked at the stakes.
“Did you do all this by yourself?”
“Yeah. Armando’s son helped me for two days.”
Lee Jae-in explained as he walked toward the stakes.
"This is the central plaza. To the north are three communal buildings. The residential area is on the eastern slope. To the west are the hydroelectric facilities. The entrance is to the south."
Hoon shifted his gaze from one stake to another. Right now, it was just a field of grass. But as he listened to Lee Jae-in’s explanation, he began to see something. It was the moment when he saw what wasn’t there.
“When do we start?”
Lee Jae-in spoke without stopping.
“We just started.”
And he pointed at the ground. A small hole had been dug next to one of the survey stakes. It was shallow—about two shovelfuls deep.
“It’s the first foundation. You finish digging it.”
Lee Jae-in handed him a shovel. Hoon took it. He gripped the shovel. It had an old wooden handle. Lee Jae-in had found it somewhere.
Hoon stood in front of the hole.
He plunged the shovel into the ground. He stamped on it with his foot. Dirt flew up. He tossed it aside. He plunged it in again. He stamped on it again.
He felt strangely moved.
He thought about how long it had taken to get from the day he was writing in his notebook in Dasol’s room to this moment. It had been several months.
Long if you considered it long, short if you considered it short. The fact that that time had led to this single shovel stroke. The fact that thoughts become the earth.
Lee Jae-in watched from the side.
“Why are you digging so slowly?”
Hoon smiled and started digging again.
* * *
From that day on, the two of them dug.
They started with the foundation. The foundation for the main building. Lee Jae-in designed and gave instructions, and Hoon followed. When it came to construction, Lee Jae-in was the expert. Hoon accepted this naturally. The division of roles didn’t feel awkward.
They worked during the day. It was hot. May in Kayapa was the dry season. When there were no clouds, the sun beat down directly. Hoon’s back ached for the first two days. By the third day, his body had adjusted. Since his awakening, his body recovered differently. It wasn’t fast, but it was sure.
In the evenings, they stayed at Armando’s community. He gave them a small room.
Lee Jae-in gradually became closer to Armando’s son, Loro. Though they didn’t communicate well verbally, they connected through work. Loro taught him the names of local trees—which ones could be used for construction, and which types of soil were suitable for foundations. That knowledge was invaluable.
Hoon wrote in his notebook every evening. It was a record of the day. He didn’t write about what he did, but what he thought. As those pages piled up, they would one day become a record of it all.
* * *
A week had passed when Lee Jae-in said,
“We need more people.”
Hoon knew it. There was a limit to how fast the two of them could work. For Gong to be able to take in people from scratch, it needed at least a basic structure. It needed a roof. It needed a way to bring up water. If the two of them did it alone, it would take months.
“Someone’s on their way.”
Lee Jae-in looked up.
“Who?”
Hoon thought for a moment.
“A Senegalese woman. Her name is Amara.”
Lee Jae-in nodded. He didn’t ask any further.
“When is she coming?”
"Sometime this week."
“I’ll have the foundation finished by then.”
Then he picked up the shovel again.
* * *
Amara Diallo arrived in Gong five days later.
She had taken a bus from Manila. She was alone. She was carrying a large bag. Hoon didn’t find out what was inside until later. They were seeds. Various kinds of seeds brought from West Africa.
The fact that the first thing Amara brought with her when she arrived in Gong became a scene that stayed with Hoon for a long time.
They first met at the entrance to the basin. Amara spoke first.
“I’m here.”
It was in English. Her voice was low and steady. Her eyes were calm. She had been on a long journey, yet she didn’t look tired.
Hoon said.
“Welcome. How did you find your way here?”
Amara looked around. At the basin, the mountains, the sky. Then she looked at Hoon.
"I heard rumors. Through people."
“The old-fashioned way.”
“Yes. There were no phones or internet. It was just a story told from person to person.”
Hoon nodded.
“You haven’t awakened yet, have you?”
Amara looked at Hoon for a moment.
"Can I ask you first?"
"Of course."
“What exactly does this place do?”
Hoon looked out at the basin. The stakes Lee Jae-in had driven into the ground were visible in the distance. Lee Jae-in was still working where they had been digging the foundation.
“It’s a place where people gather even when they aren’t hungry.”
Amara’s expression didn’t change as she heard those words. Then she set down the bag she was carrying. She untied the strings. She took out a small cloth pouch from inside and held it out to Hoon.
Hoon took it. There was something inside.
“They’re seeds. I brought them from Senegal. I don’t know if they’ll grow in this soil, though.”
Hoon clutched the pouch.
"I wish I’d planted some seeds when I first arrived."
Amara smiled for the first time.
“It’s not too late.”
Hoon liked those words. It was something he had said himself long ago. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it feel different.
“Let’s go inside.”
Hoon walked into the basin. Amara followed.
The seed pouch was in Hoon’s hand.
It was small and light. But it was the first seed of this basin.