Preparing for Winter from Summer (2)
I left the task of purchasing chickens, ducks, and rabbits to Jamie. Since it was the season when small livestock were breeding, the prices shouldn't be too steep. They were also creatures that multiplied quickly, which was a plus.
'Next is the housing.'
It was time to renovate the homes. It was a fact known to everyone: the winters in the North were brutal. Naturally, the residents of the North poured their hearts and souls into building their homes to survive the winter heating requirements. This was also the reason why the Administrative Welfare Center, which I had initially expected to open in two months, was still not finished.
There was no ondol (underfloor heating) here. However, just because they lacked ondol didn't mean their architectural skills were completely inadequate. 'If that were the case, everyone would have frozen to death already.'
Compared to other regions, their walls were twice as thick, constructed with dense timber to prevent fierce winds from entering. Before building, they leveled the land and raised the foundation to block the cold rising from the ground. Windows and doors were kept small, and the roof pitch was steep to prepare for the massive snowfall. It was no exaggeration to say that Northern architecture had evolved specifically to survive the winter.
Still, improvements were necessary. I didn't know how to make ondol or coal briquettes. I was a liberal arts major who worked as an administrative civil servant; I wasn't a science or technical expert. If I had at least read more alternative history or fantasy novels, I could have easily figured out how to build an ondol. It was a regrettable situation. Regardless, I had to do what I could with what I knew.
"If every household starts raising a few chickens or rabbits this winter, the biggest problem will be surviving the cold. We can't let the livestock we worked so hard to supply die in their first year."
"Couldn't we just bring them inside the house?" Jamie suggested.
"Do you want an epidemic to break out?"
They said that in medieval Europe, people and livestock lived all tangled up together in the same house, but as a civilized person from the 21st century, I couldn't stand to see that. People deserved to live like people.
"Let's prepare to expand the houses."
Although I was a liberal arts major with no real knowledge of construction, I did know of one housing structure that fit the Northern climate. 'Ulleungdo's Udegi and Tumak-jip.' It was a type of house I had seen during a field trip to Ulleungdo. I remembered hearing that it had developed to allow people to live comfortably inside even in the dead of winter, due to the heavy snow and strong winds.
Scratch, scratch. I drew a rough outline on a blank sheet of paper.
"We extend the eaves of the roof like this. We'll use shingles."
"I think thin wooden planks would work just fine," Jamie noted.
"Then, we build a sort of false wall to match the extended shingles. Wooden planks are fine, or we could weave silver grass."
"Then a space would be created between the house and the false wall. That would help with insulation, too."
"And it would be much less likely for the livestock to freeze to death."
"The construction doesn't seem as massive as I thought. We could start preparing right away, couldn't we?"
"Let's select one pilot house and build it first."
"Should we apply it to the inn being built next to the trading post? It would serve as a natural advertisement."
My adjutants were perfectly in sync. I felt a surge of excitement. It really was important that there were no villains around when trying to get work done.
"Then, how about the Administrative Officer demonstrates it yourself?" Kalisa suggested.
"......?"
I had just been thinking how glad I was that there were no villains, so why was this happening? A demonstration? What kind of demonstration?
I stared at Kalisa with a look of bewilderment. At first, we were like enemies bickering, but lately, they had become best friends and were always stuck together; it seemed like she had caught a case of intermittent stupidity from Jamie. This was exactly why adults always told you to choose your friends carefully.
"I don't mean you should do the construction yourself, Administrative Officer! It's just a demonstration."
Seeing my expression sour, Kalisa quickly added, "No matter how good a policy is, there will surely be people who hesitate to install something they've never seen before in their homes. Those people will just bring their livestock inside and live huddled with them. Then, the epidemic you're worried about might actually break out."
"And if I show them a demonstration, their hesitation will disappear?"
"Of course."
"?"
I still couldn't understand. I wasn't some great architect or technician; why would people's worries vanish just because I fumbled through a few demonstrations?
"Sometimes, I think you don't realize what kind of existence you are to the residents of this territory, Administrative Officer."
Seeing me still filled with question marks, Kalisa sighed softly. Of course, this was another story I couldn't comprehend. 'What kind of existence am I?'
A Northern Administrative Officer. In other words, a civil servant. What is a civil servant to the residents?
- You're getting paid with my taxes, how can you do your job like this! Cancel this right now! I can't pay!
- Are you really an employee? A civil servant? What grade are you! Ah, forget it, I have nothing to say to you, get the person in charge out here!
...Ah. PTSD.
Because a bad memory had surfaced, tears welled up in the corners of my eyes before I could stop them. Those were the days when the mayor was obsessed with "kind service" and "smiling civil complaints," leaving me unable to take any action even after hearing such things.
However, seeing my eyes grow moist, Kalisa smiled with a look of satisfaction for some reason. Her expression seemed to say, 'You've finally realized it!' I was still completely lost.
"......"
I pondered for a moment why things had turned out this way, looking at the hammer and planks in my hands.
"The Administrative Officer is going to demonstrate it himself?"
"Oh my... Good heavens!"
"Oh dear, those precious hands...! What do we do! It would be a disaster if he got hurt!"
"What are those adjutants doing, why aren't they doing it for him! I wonder if our Administrative Officer has ever even held a hammer before!"
However, hearing the fuss from the surroundings, I had to quickly put on my "public service smile." I hadn't spread the word or promoted it widely, so I had no idea how the residents had found out and swarmed the construction site like this.
The nearly completed inn was a three-story building, prepared so that merchants coming to the North to trade or residents from distant villages could rest comfortably. Until now, everyone had either set up tents or borrowed rooms in villagers' houses.
"The place for the demonstration is this building here," the construction manager said, beaming.
"The stable?"
"Yes. If we build the udegi you mentioned, the horse handlers can rest comfortably, and it will be easier to load and unload cargo."
"I suppose. It would be difficult to build an udegi on a three-story building, after all."
"Well then, shall we begin?"
The construction manager kept smiling, but... '...Do I just hit it?' I was a "clumsy-handed" person who took three hours just to assemble an IKEA three-drawer chest.
"Hahahaha!"
"So even our Administrative Officer has things he can't do."
"Oh dear! Someone, quickly take that hammer away from him! What if he smashes his hand, really!"
To the Northern residents, I had always been a perfect person. I had pushed through all sorts of policies immediately upon taking office, solving the problem of survival in just two seasons; I always smiled and used formal language even with commoners; and what about that appearance that made twenty people turn their heads for every ten who passed by? I was a perfect person, enough to justify why everyone called me "Lord, our Lord" behind my back, even while calling me "Administrative Officer" to my face.
But today, they realized that even that perfect Lord was a human being just like them. That small flaw added a sense of familiarity. The eyes of the residents, watching me scratch the back of my head in embarrassment, were filled with affection.
"But what is it that he's doing?"
"They say it's to make it warmer in the winter and keep the animals from freezing to death."
"It might look a bit stuffy once it's all covered up, though."
"It's made of planks or silver grass, so couldn't we just take it off after winter passes?"
"I suppose so."
"Should we try it at our house, too?"
"If the Administrative Officer is rolling up his sleeves and doing it like that, it must be a good thing."
"Then I should make sure to have plenty of planks ready in the autumn."
The onlookers, who had been laughing and chatting at my clumsy hammering, seemed to be slowly changing their minds. Because if the Lord was doing it, it must be good. They were the kind of residents who would probably try anything, even if I told them to make bean paste out of red beans.
"But we don't even raise a single chicken at our house. So we don't need it, right?"
"Oh, you old man. You're late on the news, so late."
"What are you talking about?"
"They say the Lord's castle is building a large public pasture to encourage livestock farming. So anyone can bring their sheep or goats from home to graze."
"No, I'm telling you, we don't even have chickens!"
"And, uh, what was it? They're buying up chickens, ducks, rabbits, and... anyway, everything from other regions to supply as food, and they're planning to sell them to interested residents at a low price."
"Oh my, is that true?"
Two people among the onlookers, whose tone of voice was a bit awkward, exchanged words. Quick-witted people immediately realized they were workers from the Lord's castle, but the important thing wasn't their identity, but the news that they would sell chickens and ducks at a low price, so everyone kept quiet.
"Is that the truth? They're really selling them at a low price?"
"That's what I said. Have you only lived a life of being deceived?"
"Hmm... then should our house get five or six chickens, too?"
In the days when we had to endure the terrible "barley hump" (famine season), what chickens? We had to eat everything in sight, not even sparing a single chick, so there was no room to raise anything. But now, even if cheese or milk at every meal was difficult, we could at least afford to live on black bread, so raising chickens and eating eggs was a luxury we could sufficiently afford.
They say a farmer would rather starve to death than eat their seed grain, but if they were truly on the verge of starving to death, they wouldn't leave such things behind. There was a reason why the majority of Northerners couldn't even raise a single chicken.
'Now that our living conditions have improved a bit...'
'Chickens? Or ducks? What the heck, should I raise both?'
'How many babies do rabbits have? No, would it be better to raise goats and make milk and cheese?'
The thoughts of the residents began to change, little by little. Others might question if it was such a big deal, but when a change occurs in thoughts that have been ingrained like inertia for decades, the form of life also changes. Those among the onlookers who were quick to act slipped out of the crowd and ran home. To explain the necessity of changing their house structure to their families and to discuss which livestock to raise.
It was a change I had been longing for.