Power of Purity

The second we stepped out of the subway, we heard a Korean pop song. We were headed to City Hall to take photos in front of a mammoth of a photo collage of Koreans standing with arms in a question mark, happy on the street.

The space was already taken. We were still across the street when we heard our first hallelujah. It was that kind of pop show. In the dark damp plot of green grass in front of City Hall stage, a factory of individually wrapped Christian Koreans, bobbing up and down to the beat in their translucent plastic rain suits.

In between the Korean melody, inspirational messages in English letter blocks rolled across the screen. The Power of Purity, the crowd’s matching white t-shirts all read. They surged forward and shook with excitement, clapped hands above their heads.

Eventually we made our way to the photo walls we’d came for, but by the time we stood in front of each other’s cameras we had an unexpected expression of shock and pleasure written on the face.