On the way back from the Centre Culturel Coréen in Paris

So, Friday, I went to the Centre Culturel Coréen, to get some Korean books. I saw again those books I'm familiar with, 4.30 pm, Malgo hermoni etc. Remains of the Asia Start project I used to work for.
I made up my mind for, guess what, horangni (tiger) story and another traditional story. Unfortunately, the drawings from the horangni story won't help a lot :(
In the Cultural Center, a smell with which I was quite familar was floating in the air. A sweet smell for the memory. That smell of kimchi. That peculiar smell I did not like at first, but now signifies a lot for me. Who would have thought that the smell of kimchi may become proustian? Nostalgia of things past, of my Korean/Seoulite past...