new Korean  Stories from 2004
English language version by Chris A. Foreman

A Festival of Lights     return to top
January 4, 2004 / Number 124.

Hanukkah begins on the 25th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev. The starting date on the western calendar varies from year to year. In 2003, Hanukkah began on Friday, December 19th and lasted 8 days to December 27th. Jewish people around the world celebrate this 8-day Festival of Lights. The Jewish day begins at sunset, so a local celebration of Hanukkah was scheduled last Friday at 7:30. By coincidence, my Korean church youth group meets every Friday at 7:00. Although our group is Christian, I thought that it would be a good religious education to learn about this Jewish holiday. About twelve youth with a few adults traveled to a San Francisco Nazarene Church where the group Jews for Jesus celebrated Hanukkah and explained its origin to us non-Jewish listeners. Here is what they told us.

Long ago in the land of Judea there was a Syrian king, Antiochus. The king ordered the Jewish people to reject their God, their religion, their customs and their beliefs and to worship Greek gods. There were some who did as they were told, but many refused. One who refused was Judah Maccabee. Judah and his four brothers formed an army and chose as their name the word "Maccabee", which means hammer. After three years of fighting, the Maccabees were finally successful in driving the Syrians out of Israel and reclaimed the Temple in Jerusalem. The Maccabees wanted to clean the building and to remove the hated Greek symbols and statues. On the 25th day of the month of Kislev, the job was finished and the temple was rededicated. When Judah and his followers finished cleaning the temple, they wanted to light the eternal light, known as the N'er Tamid, which is present in every Jewish house of worship. Once lit, the oil lamp should never be extinguished. Only a tiny jug of oil was found with only enough for a single day. The oil lamp was filled and lit. Then a miracle occurred as the tiny amount of oil stayed lit not for one day, but for eight days. Jews celebrate Hanukkah to mark the victory over the Syrians and the rededication of the Jerusalem Temple. The Festival of the Lights, Hanukkah, lasts for eight days to commemorate the miracle of the oil. The word Hanukkah means "rededication".

Several members of the youth group enjoyed the Hanukkah experience and learned from it. One teenager liked the game of Jeopardy that was played after the singing. If anyone asks you the number of candles needed to celebrate all 8 days of Hanukkah, the answer is 44. Everybody seemed to enjoy eating the latkes (potato pancakes) matzah (bread). One of the girls was interested in spinning the top called a dreidel. She heard that there are four Hebrew letters on the dreidel: Shin, Hey, Gimel, and Nun. She asked me which of the letters was the Shin, because that was her last name. Luckily, I retained enough of my seminary Hebrew to point out the letter Shin to her. She was happy and copied the letter shape carefully onto a napkin. As I explained to the Korean youth group, you cannot understand your own religious tradition until you experience another religion and contrast it with your own. If you have confidence in your own beliefs, learning about other beliefs in never a threat.

Holding up Fingers     return to top
January 18, 2004 / Number 125.

A few weeks ago a little boy in our church turned six years old. Little Joseph was so proud. I asked him, How old are you, Joseph? He shouted six and then he held up both hands to show me his age. Please follow my directions. Put down this newspaper and hold up your hands to show me six years old like you think Joseph did. If you acted like a Korean six-year-old, you held up all five fingers on the left hand and stuck up the thumb on your right hand. Am I right? I noticed this because an American child would hold up all five fingers on the left hand and the index finger on the right hand. That how I show six years old . I mentioned this observation to an adult standing next to me. Joseph overheard this conversation and the next time I asked Joseph, how old are you? , he held up six fingers like an little American his right index finger instead of his right thumb.

I talked with some Koreans about this. They showed me how Koreans count. It s right thumb first, then the other fingers on the right hand. Then it s the left thumb followed by the other fingers of the left hand. They kept on counting from eleven to twenty by lowering the same fingers in the opposite direction. I never learned that. I asked one of the Korean men, how about in Baseball. How does a Korean umpire count three strikes? Does he hold up his thumb for strike one? He laughed then thought for a while and said, no, he counts like an American . I said, Why, he s Korean . He replied, But it s an American game so he counts like an American .

I find it so interesting that different cultures use gestures in different ways. I remember reading a book as a teenager about cultural gestures. There was a comment about head shaking. The author said that most people in the world do recognize an up-and-down head shake as yes and a side-to-side head shake as no . But this gesture is not universal. Many people on our planet cannot interpret these gestures that are so ingrained in me that I do not even think about them. Some hand gestures are quite culturally specific. There is a common hand gesture used among Americans that signals insult or defiance . It is sometimes called the bird or flipping you off . If an American raises a middle finger toward you it is obvious sign of insult.

This form of hand insult was much in the news in January of 1968 when the USS Pueblo was seized by North Koreans off the shore of Wonson harbor. The Communist North accused this Navy ship of spying for the Americans. For nearly one year eighty-two American sailors were held captive by North Koreans. During their imprisonment the crew signed papers, admitting the ship's intrusion, apologizing, pledging to cease all future action, and acknowledging the truth of confessions obtained during captivity. To publicize the their prize catch, the North Koreans published propaganda photographs of these unhappy Americans. But these sailors had the last laugh. For months of their captivity every photograph of the American captives shows a middle finger raised toward the camera. (see more pictures at http://www.usspueblo.org/v2f/captivity/goodluck.html ) .

The poor North Koreans did not know that they were being insulted! They published all these pictures with the sailors flipping off their captors! Of course the communists noticed this hand gesture, but the clever Americans said that this was the Hawaiian Good Luck Sign . A captive sailor reported later The finger became an integral part of our anti-propaganda campaign. Any time a camera appeared, so did the fingers. The next time an angry American flashes a raised middle finger at you, maybe you can politely thank him for showing you the Hawaiian Good Luck Sign .

BB Gun     return to top
February 7, 2004 / Number 126.

I received my first e-mail address back in 1990 when I signed up for America Online. That wasn t real e-mail fourteen years ago because AOL wasn t a part of the internet back then. AOL was just a small bulletin board system competing with a more popular product called CompuServe. I used to hook up my 286 computer to an external modem, then plug that modem into my telephone line. I m not sure, but I think the connection speed was at 4k bits per second. That was fast enough for me because all I looked at was numbers and letters. The graphical interface was still a few years away. I do remember somebody sending me a picture one time. It took a minute or so for the picture to appear, but just to see it was amazing. My first user name or e-mail address was x4man . I chose this name because I enjoy playing with words and cforeman was just too boring. The X in my user name stood for Christ or Chris . The 4man was my last name with a numeral: foreman . I stayed with x4man for several years and eventually the user name advanced into x4man@aol.com .

For a short time I worked at Golden Gate University in San Francisco. I dropped out of AOL then. My new e-mail address was now foremanc@ggu.edu . I didn t like the regimented e-mail system much. It left no room for creativity but the rule was last name plus first initial . This was the rule for everybody except my friend Kenny Chin. I can still remember my Chinese friend red faced and demanding that his e-mail be changed when he man saw his e-mail was established as chink .

In 1995 I was introduced to the World Wide Web. I was working at San Francisco State University and really liked the images that I saw and the sounds that I heard. Soon, I had my own personal web site and was trying to think of a clever and poetic name for it. One day I composed a short poem about the ocean fog that flies past my home in Mill Valley. The poem went like this:

"Flying Fog greets the Evening Calm, inviting tall eucalyptus to dance and seducing redwoods into song, playing peek-a-boo with a reluctant moon and chasing melancholy from my soul."

I decided to call my web site flyingfog .

I have always appreciated web addresses and e-mail names that cleverly suggest something about the user. I don t like boring, uninspired names. I now correspond to people with names like greensalad , pizzamaker, and riceboy . One of the ladies I was sending emails to was called bbgun . I liked that name but couldn t imagine how it related to her. She didn t seem to be the kind of person who liked guns. Maybe somebody shot her with a BB gun one time? The last time I was at church, I finally remembered to ask her, How in the world did you get an email name like BBgun ? At first she seem a bit reluctant to tell me, then she said, As I was growing up, that's just what all the Korean adults called me, so I took that as my e-mail name I said, OK, now I understand, Vivian .

---

Footprints on Cheju Island     return to top
Feb 21, 2004 / Number 127.

I have recently read of ancient human footprints found on the island of Cheju. Fossilized tracks, said to be about 50,000 years old, were discovered by Professor Kim Jung-yul of the Korean National University. The human footprints are 21-25 centimeters in length, and the imprints of the foot are quite distinct. Not only are the heel and ball of the foot evident in the imprints but the imprint of the medial arch is also explicit. These are the first footprints of Paleolithic humans ever found in Asia. Korea is now in an elite group of six countries (Kenya, South Africa, Tanzania, Chile, France and Italy) that have discovered these ancient footprints. May I suggest a name for this race of ancient people who once lived in Korean? How about "DanGun" man?

I left footprints on Cheju Island once. It wasn't 50,000 years ago although it seems like it. The year was 1974 and I was just married. My new wife and I could not take time off just after our March wedding, so we postponed our honeymoon until June. At that time, Cheju Island was the poor man's Hawaii and was a common destination for newly weds. I was teaching English to employees at KAL and was able to get a good deal on plane tickets. But I lost whatever money I saved on the tickets, because I had to pay under-the-table money at the check-in counter. I made the plane reservation under the names Mr. and Mrs. Foreman. Unfortunately, my wife did not have any ID with the name "Mrs. Foreman" on it. Five hundred won was able to fix that problem.

We enjoyed our time on the Island. We did many of the usual tourist things. We bought straw hats, walked along beaches, and sat on lava rocks. Our favorite place was Jung Bang falls. These waterfalls are famous as the only waterfall in the orient that falls directly into the ocean. We sat near the waterfall on a bright day and mist from the falls formed into a hundred rainbows. The next morning we woke up at 4:30 to see the sun rise near Sang Sam Po. We sat on a huge volcanic rock formation at the extreme eastern edge of the Island. The sunrise was beautiful but so was the site of hundreds of sheep grazing in the valley below.

We ended our honeymoon vacation with a bus ride around the perimeter of the island. It was an experience. Old ladies with squawking chickens would get on and off the bus. At times I thought that I was in a fish market, because of the loads of seafood that was carried on board. The island seemed to be a generation behind the rest of Korea. Most of the houses were covered with thatch and we saw a groups of children carrying thatch on their backs.

I doubt that my footprints remain anywhere on the island. After thirty years, all signs of my visit are long gone. But someday soon I hope to return to Cheju Island and revisit the places that will always be a part of my life story. Maybe this time I will also visit the Paleolithic footprints. Then my wife and I will make fresh footprints on the Island.

Visit to Another Land     return to top
Mar 7, 2004 / Number 128.

This morning I visited a land that most of you have never been to. After waking up early, the first thing I needed to check was my wardrobe. I can't wear anything blue. This morning I dressed in khaki pants and a brown shirt. Just before leaving the house, I checked out my wallet. Once I forgot my official ID and couldn't get into this land. My drivers license was in place and I was ready to go. After a twenty minute drive I parked the car. Everything had to be inspected. I stood in line then opened my bag. I signed in at exactly 8 am. After a short walk, another officer inspected my belongings. This time I had to walk through a metal detector. I couldn't get through until I removed my shoes. After another short walk, I had to show my ID card a third time. I signed my name again and another officer stamped my right hand with yellow ultraviolet ink. Then a big steel door opened. I stepped through it and the door slammed shut behind me. Next a second door opened in front of me and I walked into this alien environment.

Welcome to San Quentin Prison. On Saturday mornings I lead a Bible study for prison inmates in the Protestant chapel. Whenever I enter this place, I experience a bit of culture shock. Visiting this prison is not unlike visiting a foreign country. The clothing is different - they all have to wear blue. The customs are different - they all have to sit down immediately whenever a whistle blows. The language is even different - "H - unit" and "lifer" are now part of my vocabulary. Whenever I visit San Quentin, I feel out of place. This is the same feeling I get, when I visit Korea. The people are friendly. The friendships are genuine, but this is not my home. I am a visitor and a 3-hour tourist. The natives of this country are leading lives that are beyond my understanding.

As I walk into the main yard, I see well-maintained rose gardens and juniper bushes sculpted into ornate balls. Situated right on the San Francisco Bay, I often see sea gulls swoop down from the sky and splash-land into a concrete pond. How freely they fly over the prison walls, spend a few moments inside the prison, they fly away again. How difficult it was for me to gain entrance onto the prison grounds. How very impossible it is for these prisoners - and now my friends - to exit this place.

Today I studied and prayed with six prisoners. We never ask our student inmates what they are in prison for. Sometimes they volunteer the information. James tells us that he is in for attempted murder. He shot his neighbor during an argument. He would have killed him too, but his gun jammed. James has twin boys who visit him every few months. Harold and Lonnie are in San Quentin for drug charges. They don't talk about it much, but you can see the scars on their arms. Donnie is a lifer. He killed someone when he was 21 and now he's 45. He has been a model prisoner. Every year his parole comes up and every year his parole has been denied. He is praying that the new governor in California will permit his parole this year. Calvin is in on robbery charges and is due to be released this September. Today was probably the last time that I will see Harold. He is due to be released this coming Friday. We prayed for Harold before we ended the study. He is up against tremendous odds when he is released. With few social skills and many years behind bars he will be dropped off at a bus station with $100 in his pocket. Is it any wonder that so many return? My scripture tells me "to remember the prisoners as if I am in prison with them". Although I lead them in study once a week, their faces come before my eyes nearly every day.

Is God A Democrat or a Republican?     return to top
Mar 21, 2004 / Number 129.

A few weeks ago I was sitting at my office in church. One of my church friends dropped by to chat. Pretty soon the conversation moved to the rush of same-sex marriages that was happening in San Francisco. He was looking down, shaking his head, and clicking his tongue. After explaining how evil and anti-biblical these events were, he asked me "but you're in favor of these gay marriages, aren't you?". I was taken aback by this comment. I assumed that my friend knew me better than that. He knows that I hold to a serious interpretation of Scripture and although homosexuality is not discussed very often in the Bible, whenever it is discussed, it is condemned.

I laughed a little bit in surprise and asked him how he could ever come up with a conclusion like that. He said "Well, I read your newspaper column a while ago and you said that you were a Democrat. Mayor Newsom is a Democrat so I thought that you supported him". I could see where this conversation was headed. My friend did not really suspect that I supported same-sex marriage, but he was truly puzzled about me being a Democrat rather than a Republican. I tried to explain to him that I was attempting to live out my Christian values. I believe that I am a conservative on social behavior, but liberal on economic issues. I argued that religion has two components: keeping oneself unspotted from the world and visiting the widows and orphans. I explained to him that I am truly torn between voting for my more conservative social values or voting for my more liberal economic values. Finally I said that "as a nation I think that we will be judged on how we treat the most vulnerable of our citizens. That's why in the end, I vote Democrat." He was still shaking his head. He said that he was a Republican and that Republicans were against same-sex marriage and Democrats were in favor of it.

I tried to explain that political life is not that simple. The previous governor of California, Gray Davis, expressly stated that he was against same-sex marriage. He was a Democrat. The new Republican governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, announced last month that he had no problem personally with homosexuals getting married. I then asked him if had voted for Arnold. Next I asked him if he ever voted for Bill Clinton. He said "of course not". I then reminded him that it was President Clinton who supported and signed the "Defense of Marriage Act" that legally defines marriage as a union between one woman and one man. At that point he left the room. When he returned a few minutes later, we began to discuss other concerns of the church.

All this reminds me of a story I once heard. A young preacher found himself in trouble with his chief elder because he was preaching politics from the pulpit. As election day was approaching, this very conservative preacher would tell his congregation, "God wants you all to vote the Republican candidate". The wise deacon scolded the young preacher saying that this was not right and that God does not fit into a box. The elder said "God is neither a Democrat or a Republican". So the next time the young preacher spoke to his people he said, "God is not a Republican or Democrat". He paused and said, "I repeat. God is not a Republican or a Democrat .. but he certainly is not a Democrat".

My Personal Mount Everest     return to top
April 3, 2004 / Number 130.

Last September my son Simon moved to New York City to attend Art School. During his first semester he lived in Manhattan, but his closet-size room was too expensive. Last month he moved to Brooklyn and started his second semester. Simon's spring break was last week so my wife and I took the opportunity to visit his new home. I had passed through New York City several times, but this was my wife's first visit to the "Big Apple". She commented, "I can't believe that I have been in America for nearly 30 years and finally I'm visiting New York".

Simon has a two room apartment in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. He tells us that Williamsburg is a big center for struggling artists. We enjoyed walks around his neighborhood, especially walking through the areas where Hasidic Jews live. We felt like we were in a foreign country seeing road signs in Hebrew and men dressed in black coats, round hats and long side curls.

On Tuesday we went to see Simon's art school, the New School University, in Manhattan. It was a treat to see all the artist cubicles. My son said that two of his cubicle neighbors are girls from Korea. That same day we did a few tourist things like visiting the Empire State Building, Ground Zero, and Times Square.

On Wednesday, the three of us attended a performance of Cookin' which was playing off Broadway in Greenwich Village. We had considered catching a Broadway play, but couldn't resist watching this Korea-themed comedy. Cookin' is set in a kitchen with five crazy Koreans. Four of them cook up a storm in a rhythmic fury using Samulnori percussion. In addition to pounding on boards and pots with their knives, the four cooks also toss dishes, and fight with kung fu. All the cast members were great, but we especially liked the big smile on the pretty girl called Hot Sauce. On this particular evening there was a UN benefit and several New York chefs made a guest appearance. All three of us enjoyed the evening immensely. We are glad that this glimpse of Korean culture is proving so popular in New York.

On Thursday the three of us did something unusual. I asked my wife and son to accompany me on a six-state one-day tour of New England. My big challenge, my personal Mount Everest, is to visit all 50 of the United States before I die. You may think that I am as crazy as the four cooks in Cookin' but on Thursday morning we set out in our rented minivan at 5 am. We drove though Queens and Bronx, then up to Connecticut (my 44th state). We continued north through Massachusetts (my 45th state) and just crossed the border into Vermont (my 46th state). We turned east and drove through New Hampshire (my 47th state), then up to Maine (my 48th state). We paused in Maine for lunch and headed back. We stopped for a moment at Harvard Square in Cambridge and just after dark we drove through Rhode Island (my 49th state). We arrived back in Brooklyn at 10:30 pm. I am now 98% of the way to my summit. The only state I am lacking is Delaware. Maybe next year I'll reach to top of my Everest. After reflecting upon the entire traveling experience my favorite part is this: We were dropped off safely at JFK airport my younger son Simon. Then we were picked up safely by our older son Zachary in San Francisco. Can there be a greater blessing than this family of four?

A Heart Connection     return to top
April 17, 2004 / Number 131.

A few weeks ago while sitting in my office, one of my co-workers approached me and told me that an old Korean man was outside on the sidewalk and wanted to talk with me. I was surprised and asked him, "Why doesn't he just come inside and talk". My friend said, "No, he wants to talk to you outside". So I walked outside and met a small man who looked to be about 60 years old. He hardly spoke a word of English, and with my limited Korean-speaking ability, we had a difficult time communicating. His hands were shaking the whole time we talked. Was is because of the cold morning? Was it because he was confessing something to a stranger? Or was it alcohol-related tremors? I don't know.

The man said that he read my column in the newspaper and had tracked me to my church. He told me that he was in trouble with the law and that his lawyer had suggested they he locate some American who could interpret Korean culture. Apparently, I came to his mind. I finally understood that he wanted me to write out a statement explaining to an American judge the meaning of the term jung. As he talked and I listened, he said that although he was old, he was a recent immigrant to America. After being in America for a few months, he located an old friend from Korea who lived in San Jose. His jung toward this was very strong. His old friend asked to borrow money. Although he didn't have very much, he gave everything that he could gather. He explained that this was jung. His friend needed more money, so this old man sold some of his possessions, borrowed from a credit card, and even embezzled money from his employer. Then this old friend just vanished! I could see the tears in his eyes. He said, "I told my American lawyer that I just had to give him money when he asked. He was an old and dear friend. I had no choice. This is the way jung works. I gave the old man my telephone number and told him that his lawyer contact me.

So what is jung and why is it so alien to American minds that American judges cannot make sense of it? I asked some Korean friends. One friend said, "It's a kind of deep compassion you have toward friends". Someone else said, "It's a special relationship. Even when a husband and wife quarrel, they can still have jung for each other". A third person said, "it's a connection of the heart, not a romantic thing like between men and woman, but from anyone to others". All of them agreed that jung can get people into trouble. What would you do if a close and long-time friend asked you for a favor? Or maybe your friend asked you to do something illegal. Would you do it? It's seems that with this heart-felt emotion of jung, good judgment can go out the window.

One friend mentioned to me that the Chinese character for jung has a "heart" at its center. Jung must for certain indicate a heart relationship. The head is the seat of judgment, reason and intellect. This is what American judges understand. How can you explain a heart connection to a man to has never experienced one?

Praying for Baldness     return to top
May 1, 2004 / Number 132.

I am still amused by the many ways that words can be confused. Several years ago I traveled to Germany with my family. After landing at the Frankfort airport, we rented a car and stopped at a small restaurant. My young son said that he needed to use the restroom. I pointed the way to him. But when he got to the right place, he couldn't figure out what room was for men and what room was for women. He returned to me and asked me for help. Rather than give him the answer right off, I asked him if he could figure out the meanings by himself. So he looked carefully at the two words on the door. One word was "DAMEN" and the other was "HERREN". He immediately recognized the "men" in DAMEN and said "this must mean "da men" or "the men". Then he turned his power of interpretation on the other word. He surmised that since the first three letters were "her", that HERREN must mean "her room". His logic appeared flawless to him but just before he moved toward the room for "da men", I held him back. I suggested that we wait a moment longer to see which room the next German entered. He really had to use the restroom, but he agreed. After a few minutes a young lady entered the room marked "DAMEN". My son knew enough to rush into the other.

I remember a great word confusion story from my first days in Korea. I was learning the Korean language and for many of us Americans the sound of "Ch" as in the name "Choi" was very difficult to pronounce. Our Korean instructor was named Mr. Choi and he insisted that we must learn how to pronounce this sound correctly or else we might die. All of us were surprised by his remark, but Mr. Choi was glad to elaborate. He said there was once a Peace Corps Volunteer who ran out of toothpaste (chee yak). He looked up the word for toothpaste in his Korean/English dictionary and then went down to the local drugstore. As best he could he asked the pharmacist for rat poison (choui yak). The man went into the back of the store and brought back some rat poison. The young American thought that it was odd that Korean toothpaste would have a picture of a rat on the container, but he paid his money and went home. When he opened the package back in his room, he asked his landlady how he could possibly brush his teeth with this stinky powder. She was horrified and threw out the poison. After that close call with death the American did learn how to pronounce the difference between toothpaste and rat poison. I don't know if this story is true, but after 30 years, it's the only part of this class that I still remember.

I am still entangled in confused words today. Just last week I went to a prayer meeting. The lead pastor is a powerful woman of prayer. As I was sitting, she layed her hands on the crown of my head and began praying for me and my ministry. The Korean words were loud and fervent. I understood some of the words as they were shouted out, but after the prayer time I asked her in English, "what were you praying for me mostly". She replied in English, "I was praying for baldness." I felt the top of my bald head and laughed. I replied "what were you praying for?" This time I heard the word "boldness". I mentioned to my wife on the car ride home that now I have an excuse for losing my hair. My hair loss must be caused by all these church people praying for "baldness". I do hope that by the time these words reach heaven that the Almighty does not confuse boldness with baldness.

Baseball, kimchi, and chopsticks     return to top
May 15, 2004 / Number 133.

A few days ago some Korean friends dropped by for dinner. At some point, the conversation shifted to baseball. One friend spoke about going to a Giants Baseball game a few days earlier and how happy he was at the result. Not only did the San Francisco Giants defeat the Florida Marlins, but Choi Hee-Seop hit a home run. Now I don t follow baseball that closely anymore, so I asked about this baseball player. My friend explained to me that Choi Hee-Seop is the only Korean in major league baseball who is not a pitcher. He continued bragging about how big and strong this baseball player was. I replied that if we measured a country s greatness by how many players appeared on baseball rosters, then the Dominican Republic would be the greatest. There must be fifty current major league players who are born in this small country. After a pause, the conversation continued along the line about how great the people of Korea are.

One of the ladies brought up the national dish of kimchi. She insisted that kimchi makes Korean people great. I had heard the story before, but I listened with patience. She said that science demonstrates that kimchi makes people live long and healthy lives. The red pepper and the garlic clean out the bowels and keep infections away. I added that when Koreans eat kimchi it also keeps their American friends away. We laughed and agreed that kimchi helps to keep both infections and Americans away. I learned a while ago that if you ever want to agitate an older Korean, you casually mention that kimchi was really invented by the Japanese who call it kim-u-chi . I suggested this to my friends and of course they were insulted. One insisted with a red face that the Japanese stole kimchi from the Koreans. I told him I was just joking and we laughed some more.

Another person then joined in the conversation and commented that Koreans were great because they were the first to conduct human cloning. She mentioned Dr. Moon Suk-bang, the rehabilitation doctor at the Seoul National University Hospital. She had read a newspaper article about Dr. Moon and how he credited his success to chopsticks. Dr. Moon claims that Korean people make great surgeons because they acquire manual dexterity through a lifetime use of chopsticks. We were still at the dinner table so with great fanfare I set aside my knife and fork and replaced them with chopsticks. After this wordless joke, I told the group that I had also read an article about chopsticks. This report from China suggested that people who use chopsticks throughout their lifetime acquire arthritis in their hands in old age. I told them that I don t expect to get arthritis in my hands.

Finally I asked about humility, and if humility was national trait of Koreans. My Korean friends all laughed. There are many things that Koreans are proud of: baseball players, kimchi, scientific achievement. But of all things in the world Koreans are proudest of their profound humility.

Dumpling-making machine     return to top
May 29, 2004 / Number 134.

These days my thoughts are turning toward my dear mother-in-law. My wife s mother is just past 80 years old. Ten years ago she suffered a stroke that left her speechless and finally she has suffered to the point of death.

Even before I first met her, I knew that she would be a significant part of my life. My wife-to-be was always talking about her mother: how she had sacrificed for six children, and how she had struggled so hard for her daughters to go to college. As we became serious about getting married, the time had come for me to meet her mother. I remember that we met in a tea room in Seoul. My wife had been talking to her for a while already When I entered the tearoom, I did my best to impress her. My wife interpreted the questions she asked. First she asked if I was a Christian. I said yes . Then she asked what was my goal in life. I said, to be a good husband for your daughter . It was a clever answer, but I m not sure it was the right one. As they spoke quietly, I saw my mother-in-law s face quickly change to smile, then to sadness, then to tears. As they spoke, I heard her mother say that marrying a foreigner wasn t such a bad thing. Yee Sung Man had married a foreigner and he became president of Korea. I excused myself and left them alone them alone to talk. Later I heard that her mother gave her approval to our marriage. It was such a beautiful day and I will always be grateful to her for allowing me to marry her daughter.

The years passed by quickly. I remember that when our first son was born in America, I sent a telegram to my mother-in-law in Korea. I reported his newborn weight at five and one half. She thought it was in kilograms, but it was in pounds. She figured her first grandson was very fat when really we was prematurely light. After my wife received her US citizenship, her mother came to live with us for just a short time. She was looking after two little boys then. She had a difficult time calling out my name. I became GREASE instead of Chris , but that name never bothered me. When she found her own apartment, she came to our house to visit. She would usually put money into the hands of her grandsons. We told her not to do that, but one time after she had left our two sons were leaping for joy. Each had found a twenty dollar bill in his shoes.

My mother-in-law had a lot of love in her heart, but it was difficult for her to express that love to her two grandsons because they can t speak Korean. One time she learned that Zachary and Simon really liked to eat these little Korean dumplings called "mandu". So whenever she would visit our house, she would look into the freezer and react in shock because there were no frozen mandus. Then she would go to the supermarket and buy all the ingredients. She would then spend the next several hours rolling dough, filling little squares with meat and noodles, and create little mandus. She probably made two or three hundred at a time. I overheard my older son saying to his younger brother, Grandmother is really a good mandu making machine . If Grandmother s love has a flavor, it must be a mondu flavor.

Yin and Yin     return to top
June 12, 2004 / Number 135.

A few months ago I participated in a rally in support of traditional marriage. The rally was sponsored by the Chinese Churches of San Francisco. My guess is that a few thousand people lined the streets. The participants were mostly Asian with a smattering of other races represented. I joined in with a few of my Korean friends who were also participating in the rally. Most people were wearing red t-shirts with the words "Marriage = 1 man & 1 woman". On the back side of the shirt was the same thought expressed in Chinese characters. Many traditional-marriage supporters were also waving signs with the same message. The organizers discouraged participants from making home-made signs in order to set a positive tone for this event. We were encouraging passing cars to honk if they supported our cause. There were many honking cars and I believe we gained the attention of city officials.

Of course it is hard to be "for" something without inferring what it is you are "against". Obviously what we were rallying against was the practice of granting marriage licenses to homosexual couples in San Francisco. It is a difficult thing to demonstrate opposition to a "sin" yet express love to a "sinner". Perhaps this is what keeps many good people away: a fear of being perceived as a hater of people. And yet, I believe that these few thousand people accomplished their aim with grace. The only hateful words that I personally overheard were spoken by counter-demonstrators against supporters of traditional marriage.

As I read opinion in the newspaper about "same-sex marriage", one comment that upsets me most goes like this: "Same-sex marriage is a civil rights issue. Our homosexual unions are no different than marriages between a man and woman of different races. Just as mixed-race marriages are now accepted by society, so will same-sex marriages be accepted one day". Well, I am one part of a mixed-race marriage and my marriage is not at all like a same-sex marriage. As any sociologist will tell you, racial categories are a human invention. At the biological level racial differences are superficial. Gender differences are deep and biological in nature. They are written into the DNA of each human cell.

I know that at one time, my marriage to an Asian woman would not be accepted by society. Societies throughout history have set rules about how close a marriage partner may be (second cousin / in-law) and about how distant a marriage partner may be (different tribe or race). However, these rules are man-made and change from time to time and from place to place. Marriage has always been understood as an institution between an man and a woman. I believe that the creator of humans made them male and female from the beginning. To redefine "marriage" to include same-sex couples would be like redefining "north" to include "south". Marriage is a yin and a yang. It cannot be a yin and a yin.

Dictionary Words     return to top
June 26, 2004 / Number 136.

Most English-language dictionaries contain several thousand words. These words enter into the English vocabulary from many sources. Most one-syllable words derive from Anglo-Saxton and most multi-syllable words derive from Latin and Greek. Japanese words like kamikaze and hari-kari entered the English dictionary during World War II, but how many Korean words have entered the English dictionary?

Perhaps the first word to enter the English dictionary was kimchi . Several years ago I had to explain this word to many of my friends. Nowadays, I just mention kimchi and most people know what I m talking about. Some people screw up their face and say, That stuff is hot . Pizza and spaghetti are Italian words that are common in English, so maybe bulgogi and kimbop may enter the English dictionary some time soon.

Sports also contributes words to English vocabulary. Japanese marshal arts have been popular for generations, so karate and jujitsu have been in English dictionaries for a while. Many English speakers are now aware of taekwondo and hapkido especially since these sports are popular in America. Hodori, the Olympic mascot, is recognized by many people. Can you think of other Korean sports words that are making their way into English?

A few economic words from Korea are now in dictionaries. Of course won as the monetary unit of Korea is in the dictionary. I have read about Chebul in economic journals, so it is on the way into English dictionaries. Of course there are many Korean brand names that are common in America, but because they are proper names, you may not find them. Most Americans would recognize Hyundai , Samsung , and Deawoo as Korean brand names.

Musical words may be found in the English dictionary. Kayagum is the most likely musical instrument to be recognized in the West. Other instruments like komungo, taegum, haegum, tanso, and piri might be found in a specialized musical dictionary. Pansori might be in the English dictionary some day.

Of course, most educated people would recognize geographical locations like Seoul, Pusan, Pyongyang and maybe Punmunjum. Some historians may recognize names like Shijo , Kyoeyo and Chosan .

A few weeks ago, I listened to a lecturer say that the seki may someday appear in an English dictionary. He suggested that Bali-bali may join it. My favorite candidate for the English dictionary would be the phrase igoo, chugeta . If that ever happens my response would be igoo, chugeta .

See-Food Diet     return to top
July 10, 2004 / Number 137.

Once again I am trying to loose a few pounds. One son is advising me to try the Atkins diet. My other son says the Southbeach diet is better. Both of these diets permit me to eat all the protein possible, but to stay away from sugar and starch altogether. I am good at eating lots of meat. That part of the diet is easy, but then I also sneak in rice, bread and potatoes. It seems that however my diet begins, it always turns into a see-food diet ; whatever food I see, I eat.

This philosophy of see it and consume it causes me and my family to gain a lot of things that we do not need. I learned that this is a philosophy is called kyung mul seng shin . Besides adding inches to my waistline, I am also adding a lot of junk to my house. Whenever we visit a big store like Wal-Mart or Costco, this kyung mul seng shin sets in. Suddenly we are leaving the store with things that we do not really need. Here is a book that was half price, but will probably not be read. Here is new lawn tool that will probably rust before I use it more than three times. And here is an extra big bag of chopped lettuce. We often throw away the last third of it, because it goes brown before we can put salad dressing on it.

I am also aware of kyung mul seng shin whenever I clean up the storage areas of my house. As the living areas of our house fill with objects that we do not need, I toss them casually into the attic or into our large storage closet. This keeps our rooms pretty free from clutter. But then, every few months I venture into these hidden areas to make things neat. This is when I marvel at all the junk we have recently accumulated. Some of this clutter gets thrown into the garbage can, but most just gets re-arranged and re-packaged. I just packed away all the Christmas decorations that were tossed into the attic. I have a hard time throwing away things that I paid lots of money for, but are now useless. I have computer parts and electronics that once cost thousands of dollars. Now the stuff is utterly useless, but I don t have the heart to throw it away. I remember the expense and I set it aside to be thrown away some other day.

One cure for kyung mul seng shin is to go on mission to Africa. We are planning our fourth summer mission to Rwanda. Whenever we return from our month-long mission, we find it impossible to visit Costco or Macys. After seeing how meagerly our African friends live, it is difficult to buy yet another pair of shoes. After seeing children celebrate after receiving a single piece of chewing gum, how can I fill two shopping carts with extra large containers of fine food? In all honesty, this post-Africa effect lasts about two months. Before you know it, life is back to kyung mul seng shin.

As a pastor, people sometimes ask me, Is it OK to be rich, or is it more saintly to be poor? I think the best answer is this: wealth or poverty isn t so important, but whether rich or poor, learn to live simply . As I look at all the stuff surrounding me right now, I am struggling to keep my own advice.

Hot dog Eating Contest     return to top
July 24, 2004 / Number 138.

A few months ago one of my church members told me that she would be out of town for the Independence Day holiday. My friend, Sarah Song, had plans to visit New York City with some of her girl friends. Her last name, Song, indicates her character. Her life is a song to God. On the morning of the fourth of July, I was in my church office rehearsing my sermon. Another of my church members approached me with a look of excitement and disbelief. My friend, Max, said to me, You will never guess who I saw on television this morning. I was absorbed in my work and had no time for a guessing game. I asked him, and who did you see on TV? Max answered, I saw Sarah on TV . I responded with a look of doubt and puzzlement, Sarah Song? He said, Yes, I m sure it was Sarah . Max went on to say that he was watching ESPN when he saw a short segment on Nathan's Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog Eating Contest . This orgy of eating takes place every July Fourth at Coney Island in New York City. I knew that Sarah was indeed in New York City and I had no reason to doubt the word of my friend, Max. This spotting of Sarah in the Big Apple put a smile on my face all day long.

Now my wife is not a big sports fan, but on Sunday evening I connected our little used television to the cable box downstairs. She was not interested in baseball or basketball, but she was interested in catching a peek of Sarah. As I was sitting upstairs reading the Sunday newspaper, I heard a shriek coming from downstairs: Chris, come fast, come quickly . I thought that maybe my wife had hurt herself. I ran down the stairs and into our spare room. My wife said, Oh, you missed her . This was the second sighting of Miss Sarah Song. My wife reported that just at the end of the hot dog eating contest, the ESPN camera panned the audience. And there appeared our own Sarah Song, near the front of the crowd, jumping and cheering on the contestants.

We all saw Sarah in person at Friday evening Bible study. We joked with her about her 10 seconds of national fame. She said the event was amazing to watch. For the fourth straight year, Takeru Kobayashi of Japan won the competition. He downed 53.5 hot dogs in 12 minutes, shattering his own world record by three dogs. Sarah commented with admiration and disgust, when it was over his stomach stuck out like he was pregnant . She motioned over her own stomach showing how far it stuck out.

We all draw different lessons from life. Sarah was amazed at what people choose to worship. Hundreds in the crowd were cheering Kobayashi, lifting him up, and showering him with flowers. All this for eating a large quantity of food. She commented, We need that same fervency when we worship God . My lesson was different. There is a saying Be careful in all that you do. For whatever you do in private will be shouted from the rooftops . Who could have guessed that on Sunday morning the fourth of July, a private moment in the life of Sarah Song would be broadcast across the entire nation? Could your private moment be next?

A Missionary Heart     return to top
August 14, 2004 / Number 139.

The best missionary I know is Ruth. I met her last year in Africa while she was teaching VBS to one-hundred children in Rwanda. She laughed with them, lead them in singing with motions, lifted them up in her arms and passed out sweets to them with affection. Ruth was only 16 years old yet she possessed the Bible knowledge of seminarian, the focus of a soldier, and the patience of a saint. Some of these attributes can be explained by her background. Ruth s mother is Korean and her father is American. She is oldest of eight children and she lives in rural Oregon. As Mennonites, the children are schooled at home. Since Ruth is the oldest sister, she has acted as a teacher and mentor for years.

Ruth returned to Africa last month and it was my pleasure to work with her watch her as she interacted with African natives and Korean travelers. I have developed my own scale to measure missionary suitability. This scale has less to with professional ability and more to do with positive attitude. I call this is my participation / cheerfulness scale . These are the people that I enjoy working with most. Here s how the scale works: on the left-hand Y-axis I rate people on their positive attitude. 1 equals an unhappy person who always complains. Their mouth can t open with something negative coming out. 10 equals a happy person who is cheerful and positive even in bad circumstances. On the bottom X-axis I rate people on their participation with the program. 1 equals a person who has agreed to work with the program, but then does as little as possible. This person becomes upset when a plan must change. 10 equals a person who participates in all events with a full heart. This person is flexible and adapts when a plan suddenly changes.

In all honesty, I could not rate at 10 on each axis. There are times when I become crabby and there are times when I prefer to stay in my room and not participate in a scheduled event. Maybe I d rate myself as a 7 in cheerfulness and an 8 in participation. But Ruth is an absolute 10 on both counts. In my dozens of encounters with her, she is completely positive. Even when she was sick with travelers diarrhea, I could see her smiling through the pain. Ruth was always prepared and her greatest joy was to visit African homes and share her Christian faith with them. She could sing in Swahili better than anyone in the group.

On one occasion, there was a last minute change in plan. I knew that Ruth wanted to stay with her group of young people, but she was really needed in another city. I was preparing mentally for a long explanation to Ruth to justify this change. But our conversation was short. She told me, Pastor Chris, I am willing to go wherever I am needed most . This is a true missionary heart.

Just before I left for this mission trip, I heard a report that Ruth s mother was dying of cancer. She is not yet 50 years old. Some people were questioning why a mother terminal with cancer would send her daughter to far-off Africa. But I know the secret of where Ruth s missionary heart came from. She inherited it from her mother.

Briefcase Pastors     return to top
August 28, 2004 / Number 140.

We have just returned to California from another successful mission trip to Africa. This summer we ministered in Rwanda, Burundi, and Uganda. We were accompanied by the Hallelujah Soccer team from Korea and the Children s Opera from Southern California. This group of 30 Korean teenagers performed in several large churches. At one point more than 300 Korean missionaries, athletes, and singers gathered and celebrated in Nsangi, Uganda. This was our fourth mission trip with Christian Life World Mission Frontiers and upon every mission I learn new things about Africa.

During the last week of this mission, my wife and I were leading a marriage seminar in the small town of Mityana, Uganda. Pastor David Rubahinda was our host. He brought us to visit two church-run schools. The first school was located along the roadside. Our beat-up taxi pulled to the side of the gravel road and Pastor David hopped out. After he entered the mud and straw-thatched building, one of the teachers came out and blew a whistle. About 40 students lined up in four ranks. I prayed for this group and then my wife spoke. She remarked how similar this school appeared to her own elementary school in rural Chula-puk-do. She reminisced about how her classroom leader would blow a whistle and she would stand erect in a long line of girls while a foreign visitor would make remarks.

The second school was located next to a church building. Outside this school, the iron rim of a car tire hung from a rope. To gather all the school children, a small girl rang this school bell with tire iron. We had exactly the right amount of sweets to put one piece of hard candy into the hand of each child.

About fifty couples attended our marriage seminars. Rather than using modern marriage texts, we decided to teach about marriage directly from examples in the Bible. This method seemed appropriate because the living standards and lifestyles of rural Africans are more akin to ancient Israelites than to modern Americans.

We could see that Pastor David was doing much good work and we did what we could to encourage him. We talked with Pastor David about receiving support from non-governmental organizations (NGOs). He laughed and told us that he once attempted to receive money from foreign sources. He explained that the only way to get money from foreigners was to pay a bribe to local government officials who sign off on the grants. Pastor David does not want to pay such bribes. We learned that in Uganda there are many unscrupulous pastors who do pay bribes to get foreign money. They don t manage a church building and don t oversee a congregation. Instead they operate out of their briefcases. He called these people briefcase pastors . He told us that these such pastors pay about one-third of their NGO grants in bribes, they put another third into their own pockets, and use only one-third of the money for the intended needy people.

After hearing this story, I was reluctant to give Pastor David my final gift, but I was heading home and had no further use for it. I placed inside this gift a roll of tape, a stapler, and a box of pens. David smiled as he received this final gift. I asked him, And does this make you a briefcase pastor ?

Sorrow and Relief     return to top
September 11, 2004 / Number 141.

A few days ago my wife s mother passed away in the home of her third daughter, Hyun Hee. She lived to be 77 years old.

Il Song Lee was born in 1927 in a small town near Pyung Yang in what is now North Korea. Her own mother died when she was young and she was raised in a comfortable household by her grandmother. In a time of Japanese occupation when most girls went uneducated, Miss Lee graduated from High School and attended Pyung Yang Presbyterian Seminary. Her early experiences shaped her in two ways: for her entire life she remained a devout Christian and she always valued education, especially for girls. But soon her life changed dramatically. Overnight she changed from college student to refugee.

When the Korean War broke out in 1950, Miss Lee left her home and fled south. She hid in the daytime and crossed over mountains in the night. If stopped by the Northern side she would be accused of fleeing to help the enemy. If stopped by the Southern side, she would be accused of being a northern spy. Miss Lee ended up seeking refuge at a farmhouse in Cholla Nam Do.

There she met and married a young teacher named Kim Youg Ou. This was a love marriage, but it was also difficult: north meets south, city meets country, modern meets traditional, Christian meets Buddhist. Another problem was children. In a culture that prizes boys, the first five children were born girls: Hyun Deok in 1951, Hyun Ok in 1953, Hyun Hee in 1955 and Hyun Ea in 1957. Hyun Ea s twin sister died in childhood. The father of these children was a teacher and moved from village almost every year. This made a stable home life difficult. The last two children born were sons: Dong Hyun (In Ju) in 1959 and Kue Nam in 1961.

There are many stories to tell from these years as this mother of six struggled to pass along the twin passions in her life. She single-handedly sent her four daughters to be educated in Seoul and supported them with a meager income. She also passed on her Christian faith as best she could. I must admit that my wife s mother would be very proud of her oldest daughter who is now both a professor and an active pastor s wife.

I first met my wife s mother in 1972 when she gave permission to me to marry her first daughter. I will ever be grateful. She came to live with us for a short time in 1978 when we sponsored her immigration to America. Over the years she was an important part of our life and we made a point to visit as often as we could. In 1992 she suffered a debilitating stroke, that rendered her unable to speak or walk. The last 12 years have been difficult as we see bits of her personality disappear one by one. It is with sorrow and relief that we mark her passing: sorrow that she is no long longer with us, but relief that her indignity and suffering is over.

Our final visit with her was last month. My last memory is a pleasant one. My wife and I placed her frail mother into a wheelchair for an outside ride in the fresh air. We pulled a baseball cap over her white hair to keep out the bright sun. We gently strapped down her right leg to keep it from dangling to the ground. Then we raced her a few blocks to visit the Nancy s grocery store. It almost seemed like we were pushing a child in a carriage. But it was time for God to take this child home. And it is with sorrow and relief that we say goodbye to her. God bless you, Halmonie.

Saemaul Undong in Africa     return to top
October 2, 2004 / Number 142.

My first step on Korean soil occurred in 1972. I can never forget the exact date of my arrival. During my language training I memorized When from America came you? My memorized response was November 22, 1972, came I . These lines were drilled into my head.

My first assignment as a Peace Corps Volunteer was in rural Choon Chung Puk Do. I began the school year in 1973 teaching at Mukook Chung Codung Hakyo. For six months I lived with the You family. Mr. You was a teacher at my middle school. We woke up in the morning together and we ate breakfast together and we headed off for school together. There is also one more thing we did together. Every morning for 180 days we listened to the Saemaul Undong theme song on the radio. The words and tune are burned into my memory. all of you trainees, let s begin working . The song was everywhere, the flag was everywhere, and Saemaul Undong workers were everywhere. Listen to the song. I recorded the Saemaul Undong Song from the radio to cassette, then from cassette to computer.

As a 22-year old, just out of college, I didn t like Saemaul Undong much. I considered it to be an arm of the dictatorship of President Pak Chung-hee. But time has a way of changing things. Like many people who lived in Korea during those years I now see much good coming from Saemaul Undong. I recently read an article in a Korean magazine. An interviewer asked thousands of older Koreans, What is the greatest reason for economic success in Korea? The coming of democracy ranked number three. The Seoul Olympics ranked number two, and Saemaul Undong ranked number one.

In July 2004, Saemaul Undong arrived in Bujumbura, Burundi. Our mission group invited officials from Korea to present this class, but none of them made it to this small corner of Africa. Instead my wife and my son led this seminar for 67 government officials. Cabinet ministers and members of parliament attended this class. Ours was a message of self-help rather than foreign-aid, diligence rather than assistance, and cooperation rather than competition. This 5-day class was a shining success. We did receive a box full of material from Korea: books, posters, flags and recordings. This was a big help. My wife contributed her personal testimony of living through the years of Saemaul Undong while my son applied the knowledge he acquired at Stanford University. His major was in international relations. These two teachers made a dynamic combination.

One of the government officials in attendance gave me his card. His card described his position as minister of good government . After the course ended on Friday evening, this official sat near to us at a soccer match. It was almost 5PM. One of my helpers approached me during the match and told me that 12 of our visas were being held up by the immigration bureau in downtown Bujumbura. We had paid the required money, but the visas were not returned. Once the door was closed at 5PM, we could not get our visas until Monday morning. This would cause us a problem because we planned to return to Rwanda on Sunday evening. My helper was a local pastor. He said sadly that the visa official was expecting a bribe to deliver the 12 visas. There was a big smile on my face. I pointed out the minister of good government to my pastor friend. I said, there is a man that can help you. After a short conversation, the minister made a very short call on his cell phone. It appeared he was shouting. I heard later from another friend waiting at the immigration office, that all 12 of the visas appeared magically just before closing time. I know that this Saemaul Undong training had at least one positive effect in Burundi.

Intellectual Property     return to top
October 16, 2004 / Number 143.

Lately I have been pondering this concept of intellectual property . I was listening to the radio as a lawyer for the music industry spoke against college students who illegally copy and trade popular music. He called such people criminals and said that their actions were just like stealing. He insisted that everyone knows that copying music is theft. This lawyer then quoted scripture saying, It s as simple as this: Thou shall not steal . I don t think it is quite so simple.

On my travels around the world, I see street venders selling Gucci bags, Rolex watches, Microsoft Windows, and the latest popular music. Whether I am in Mexico, Eastern Europe, Africa or Asia, the markets are full of counterfeit goods. What s going on here? Are Americans the only people in the world who truly understand thou shall not steal ? There are six billion people in the world today. Most of them would recognize that picking a wallet from a back pocket is stealing. Why is it that most of them don t have a problem with stealing intellectual property ? It may be that this is not a universal ethic after all.

Intellectual property is a generic term referring to copyright and patent rights. In my opinion, this has more to do with market regulation than universal ethics. In our modern market economy, citizens should respect copyrights and patents. However, I am alarmed that some people are so quick to equate copyright violation with property theft. It is not morally equivalent. When Moses gave the commandment Thou shall not steal , I doubt he considered the stealing of ideas as included of this command.

It has only been in the last few centuries of Western capitalism that copyright and patent right have been used to claim exclusive use to intellectual property. I understand that King Solomon the wisest man in the world borrowed some of his proverbs from wise men in neighboring nations. Solomon never told us that. It never occurred to him that such a thing was necessary. I also understand that when George Friedrich Handel was composing Messiah he liberally borrowed tunes from his contemporaries and re-worked them. This is something that many old composers did. As we read about old inventors, song writers, and authors, we discover that most borrowed thoughts and words from others, and in turn, they became a source of borrowing. Until recently this is how all the world worked. This is still the way that most of the world works.

For some reason, many of my Korean friends freely violate intellectual property rights. I know of one church deacon who illegally copies computer software and passes it on to friends. This same person would never-ever think about stealing a CD from a computer store. I know of one church pastor who xeroxes entire songbooks for distribution. Again, he would not dream of stealing songbooks from a bookstore. I do not think that my Korean friends are morally deficient because I do not believe that infringement of copyright falls under the banner of "thou shall not steal". However, these two are breaking American law and this is wrong and sets a wrong example for others. Intellectual property is an important part of our market economy, and therefore as beneficiaries of this economy, we should try our best to follow copyright and patent regulations. By the way, if you send this article to a friend, be sure to include my name and the name of this newspaper. After all, this column is under copyright.

Red and Blue States     return to top
November 13, 2004 / Number 144.

The presidential election of 2004 is complete. George W. Bush will be America s president for another four years. I have no doubt that this has been the most divisive and polarizing election in my lifetime. My Republican friends are gloating and my Democratic friends are commiserating. We are a nation divided into Blue Democrat states and Red Republican states.

I feel this division at a psychological level. The right half of me is red and preferred the Christian morality of President Bush. The left half of me was blue and preferred the social policies of Senator Kerry. I am one of those odd people who considers himself to be a Christian Democrat . I support traditional Christian morality. Yet I believe in labor unions, social security, and equal justice for all. It s too bad that Christian Democratic parties are only found in Europe.

Up until the last moment, I did believe that John Kerry was going to win this election. I looked at all the polling numbers and listened to the radio pundits. The momentum seemed to back the Democrat. My mistake was that I did not look into my own divided psyche. I have been a lifelong Democrat, voting for Democrats in the last eight presidential elections. Yet on election day I could not mark the bubble for John Kerry. I left the top of the ticket unmarked, choosing not to vote for either candidate. I think that many traditional Democrats, especially those in the Midwest, felt the same way I did. Most of them voted for George Bush.

A Church friend tells me that President Bush won the 2004 election because so many Christians in Korean churches were praying for him to win. I am suspicious of this. If Korean prayers were so powerful, then why isn t there a super highway connecting Seoul to PyungYang. But I do believe that my friend is right in this sense. Many of these same Korean people who were fervently praying in their churches also took the time to vote, many for the first time in their lives.

This has been an election marked by moral issues. Twenty-two percent of voters responding in exit polls said that moral issues were most important to them; more important than Iraq, more important than the economy. Another church friend said that the Mayor of San Francisco, Gavin Newsome, gave President Bush the push he needed to win the election. The sight of all those gay marriages on national TV motivated many conservatives to the polls.

Moral issues are important to me, but I consider social justice to be the preeminent moral issue for a government. As a nation we will be judged by how we treat our most vulnerable citizens. I agree with the Old Testament prophet Amos when he prophesized against the house of Israel: Take away from Me the noise of your songs; I will not even listen to the sound of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters And righteousness like an ever-flowing stream .

We are a nation split down the middle. My hope is that the Red states and Blue states can work together, put their differences aside, and become once more the red, white and blue states.

Picking Persimmons from a tree     return to top
November 27, 2004 / Number 145.

Last month my 30-year old son was sitting in front of our computer. He was trying to identify the forty-nine countries of Africa. This was a quiz. The name of an African country would appear on the screen (Egypt, Togo, Zambia) and he had to click on the matching country.

Since I had been to Africa several times, I was helping him. A few times, I would say to him something like, click on the little country to right of the big red one . He would shout back, Dad, you know I m colorblind. Which one is the red one? Then I would put my finger on the computer screen and he would click on the country. We did OK, getting 46 of the 49 countries. (To take a computer quiz like this, just type Africa quiz into a search engine.)

My son discovered that he was colorblind after his first vision test. That was a while ago, since he started wearing glasses when he was ten years old. He was dejected when he returned from the optometrist. He said sadly, Dad, I couldn t read any of those hidden numbers . His mother told him, You must have got that from me. I m colorblind too . I said, Don t feel so bad, son. If your mother had not been colorblind, you would not be born .

I explained to him that when his mother was still in high school she was taking tests for different colleges. Her goal was to attend Seoul University as a physics major. She was half way to achieving that goal when she took an eye examination. She was so disappointed. She was rejected from the physics program because she could not distinguish between red and green. As an alternative to physics, she majored in English at Kyung Hee University.

Of course, this worked out well for me. I would not have met and married my wife if she had been a physicist. Because she became a school teacher, I was able to meet her when I was teaching in a Korean middle school. And because she was able to converse in English, we communicated well enough for us to fall in love and marry. And because we were married, our first son, Zachary, was born. The fact that she is colorblind is a bad thing, but it led to a good life that we are living now.

But the story goes back in time two more generations. When my wife was a little girl she lived with her grandparents in the countryside. She was surrounded by orchards. She vividly remembers all of her aunts and uncles laughing at her grandmother. The old woman carried a very long stick and she would try to knock persimmons from the big persimmon tree. She could not see them. Her helpers would laugh and point and say There s one, there s one . To the grandmother s eyes, the green leaves and the red-orange persimmons were the same color.

What happened to the great grandmother is the same that happened to the great grandson. Except she couldn t find the persimmons and he couldn t find the African countries. I like to think that my colorblind son is alive today because 50 years ago a colorblind grandmother could not knock red persimmons from the green leaves of a great persimmon tree.

The Magic of Christmas     return to top
December 11, 2004 / Number 146.

As I was cleaning up my attic last month, I found an old textbook that I once used to teach English in Korea. The yellow paperback is called "New Companion to English" . It was published in 1965 and was still in use in 1974 when I taught from it at Che Chun Middle School. If you grew up in Korea about this time, maybe this textbook was your first exposure with the English Language.

The young boy in the book is called Tom and the young girl is called Jane. The first lesson is entitled, "This is a Pen"; the second is "Is this a Desk?"; and the third is "This is not a Table". I can remember teaching these three lessons. I would have my middle school students stand up and one by one I would ask them, "Is this a pen?". They shouted back their answer to me, "Yes, that is a pen." I can remember making the students laugh. I dashed around the room like a maniac and picked up objects that I found. I asked, "what is this?" When I ran out of school items, I would point to a body part and ask, "what is this?" And so my students learned things that weren't in the textbook like "finger", "nose" and "eyebrow".

In the "New Companion to English" there are 33 lessons. The final lesson is entitled "Christmas". If you studied this textbook in your youth then maybe this is how you first learned about this biggest American holiday.

Here is a list of seven things that the authors of this textbook thought were important for Korean kids to know about Christmas. (1) December 25th is Christmas. (2) It is the birthday of Christ (3) People don't go to work on Christmas. (4) We say "merry Christmas" to each other. (4) We have a big dinner, sing songs and play games. (5) We have a beautiful Christmas tree in our home. (6) We give our friends presents, and (7) We send Christmas cards to our friends.

As I read through the words of lesson 33, this barebones introduction to Christmas seemed adequate and inadequate at the same time. Yes, those are the essential facts about how Americans celebrate Christmas, but where was the magic of this holiday? Reading lesson 33 was like reading the obituary of a good friend. The facts are correct, but for those who are personally invested there is so much more to say.

To me Christmas is my yearly marker event. I sometimes challenge myself. Can I remember what I did on Christmas day one year ago? Can I remember where I was on Christmas day 1990? My very earliest memory was of Christmas day, 1953. I was 4 years and one day old. When I see old pictures of that holiday, I can still remember the feel of toy cars and the thrill of a hand-made wooden garage that my father crafted for me and my little brother. I can recollect one spectacularly happy Christmas when my wife accepted a proposal of marriage. I can remember a miserable Christmas when we almost walked our separate ways. I can remember lonely Christmases and Christmases full of family.

Lesson 33 states the facts about Christmas but does not capture the magic. If you have experienced fifty Christmases as I have, then the magic of Christmas sneaks up on you when a holiday song, smell, or greeting evokes a pleasant memory from a distant Christmas long past.

Another Birthday     return to top
December 25, 2004 / Number 147.

As I am writing these words down on paper I am 54 years old. When you read these words I will be 55 years old. Another birthday will have come and gone. I was born on the day before Christmas and that is why my parents named me "Chris". My American friends always sympathize with me, saying "I bet when you were growing up your birthday wasn't a special day because it falls so close to Christmas". They are right. I did receive birthday presents on December 24th, but I did not feel especially privileged because everyone [even my brother] got presents on December 25th.

I spent two birthdays in Korea, my 23rd and my 24th. Both of these birthdays were low key events because I was teaching school in a rural village. I learned that individual birthdays were not a big cause for celebration as they are in America. When I told my Korean friends "today is my birthday" they stared blankly at me as if I were telling them "it is snowing outside". There was no one saying "congratulations" or "did you get any birthday presents?"

It is interesting to me how birthday celebrations mark a cultural distinction between East and West. In America each individual celebrates an individual birthday on a special day of the year. The are 366 possibilities. In Korea, everyone grows older at the same rate. Based on the Chinese calendar, all the tigers (or monkeys, or rabbits, or dragons) move into the next year at the same moment, like a gigantic team. I am a 1949 ox and this is my team for life. All of us old oxen will march into the next year together when we enter the year of the rooster on February 9, 2005. All of us will turn 56 at the same time. Maybe this why Chinese New Years is the biggest of holidays in the East. All Chinese, and Korean, and Vietnamese are celebrating their birthdays together rather than spreading them out over the days of the year.

Fifty-five years old used to seem old to me, but it doesn't anymore. I heard a wise man once say that old age is always five years older than what you are at the present. That seems about right. I believe that old age starts at sixty - at least that's what I believe until 2006.

There are some benefits to being fifty-five years old that I will soon enjoy. One of my favorite restaurants offers a "senior menu" only to those 55 and older. These senior meals provide a smaller portion at a smaller price. Also, my favorite hardware store offers a special discount for seniors over fifty-five. From now on I can show my drivers license on Wednesdays and save five percent on all of my hardware purchases.

I have observed that the older I get the faster the years roll by. When I talk about years, I find myself saying things like "We moved to California in 1972, I mean '82 , no it was '92". When I was a child the days seemed to pass by quickly, but the years seemed to last forever. Now the days drag by and it is the years that speed by quickly. I can't figure it out.

But age is only in the mind anyway. There was a famous Black baseball player named "Satchel Paige". He was born in the American South in thetime after slavery. The day and even the year of his birth was not recorded. Satchel Paige once asked a reporter, "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?" Satchel pitched baseballs until his 59th year - at least that is his best guess. Maybe I have a few good years in me yet.