Korean  Stories from 1999
English language version by Chris A. Foreman

Don t Make Dog Sounds     return to top

During my first stay in Korea, I learned the Korean language in classrooms using textbooks. When I returned to the Land of the Morning Calm several years later I vowed to learn conversational Korean. To accomplish this, I watched a lot of Korean television, especially soap operas. I followed the tearful conversations as best I could. Often I would ask my Korean TV-mate, why is that woman crying? or why did that man hit his wife? I remember one story line about a mysterious wife whose parents died of tuberculosis. This was a dark secret and she was afraid to tell her husband. In the end there was a lot of crying and her husband ran away. I learned as much about the culture of Koreans as their language. I recommend daytime soap operas to anyone seeking a deeper understanding culture and language.

I also recommend comic books to anyone studying conversational Korean. Believe me, If you can appreciate the dialog and humor in comic books than you have a real grasp of the language. One summer day I was struggling through a Korean comic book. A female cartoon character shouted at her boyfriend Kea sori ha ji ma . As I translated the words to myself I chuckled. The words meant Dog sound don t make . I repeated the words a couple times to myself Kea sori ha ji ma. Kea sori ha ji ma . Now there s a useful phrase , I thought.

The next day was hot so I went outside wearing a short-sleeve shirt. While standing in line to board a bus, I heard giggling behind me. I turned around to see two girls who appeared to be in their early twenties laughing and laughing. One girl was whisking her fingers up and down her arm saying Monkey.. Monkey . I realized that I was the butt of the joke. I remembered the comic book and shouted at them in my best Korean Kea sori ha ji ma . One of the young ladies gulped an involuntary Eu Ma [meaning mother ] and the other young lady turned red in the face. An old man standing next to me just grinned.

As I sat down in the bus I thought to myself thank goodness for comic books .

One Country or Two?     return to top

When I lived in North Chung-Chung Province I enjoyed bicycling. One Saturday in 1973 I prepared for a long bicycle ride from Choeng Ju in the south to Choong Ju in the north. I had already packed a canteen of water, a raincoat, a camera and a journal. I was missing a road map.

I stopped off at my local bookstore and tried to find a map of South Korea . Something was strange. To my surprise I not could find a single map of South Korea. All the maps without exception showed the communist half of the country as well. As I examined one of the maps, I noticed that the divided provinces of Kang Wan Do and Kyung Gi Do appeared united, as if I could get on my bicycle and casually ride from Wi Jung Bu to xxxx . I had a difficult time even locating the DMZ. The zone appeared as a very small line running from sea to sea. I asked the bookstore owner Do you have a map of just South Korea?

He said, We don t sell a map of South Korea. One country: One map.

So I bought the big map of Korea and folded it in half. I ignored everything north of Seoul. What a waste of paper , I thought. These silly people are deluding themselves. But I did learn a valuable lesson. From the viewpoint of Koreans, there may be two governments that hate each other, but there is just one people.

I was reminded of this episode last week. I was listening to National Public Radio and turned up the volume when I heard South Korea mentioned. The radio announcer reported A lucky group of Koreans left the South and visited another country at XXXXXXX in the North. Something seemed wrong, but I couldn t put my finger on it. The announcer continued, Last year XXX XXX XXX sent 100 cows across the border to North Korea . In closing he said, Mr. Kim was very happy to at last visit the nation of his birth .

Then it struck me. My ears hurt to hear another country and across a border and return to the nation . I thought to myself Korea is one nation. I m sure that the lucky ones who visited the north did not think that they were in another country. The southerners simply left one part of Korea and entered another part. I was indignant with the announcer. Maybe I ll write him letter to complain.

They say that when you live with another person for a long time you take on their characteristics. Maybe after 25 years, I m just as deluded as my wife to believe that Korea is still one nation.

How old are you, anyway ?     return to top

As I was growing up in America, I thought I learned perfectly how to respect my elders . My parents taught me that all children (those in kindergarten through high school) must pay particular attention to adults (those out of high school to old age). They also taught me that the older a person gets, the more respect that person should receive. These two notions sum up my American education in regard to respect your elders .

Wow, was I in for a re-education when I arrived in Korea! In a Confucian society like Korea, I was able to ignore the first courtesy subjects, respect your king . That wasn t too difficult in daily life, because I never met a king. I also ignored the second courtesy children, respect your parents , because my parents were still living in America. However, the third Confucian courtesy, Youngsters, respect your elders caused me hours of confusion and moments of amusement.

I was first confused when I was learning conversational Korean. Someone asked the teacher How does one member of a family greet another member of the family? . I thought the answer would be simple. After much discussion I discovered that it depends on three things. First, is it a boy or girl doing the speaking? Second, is the boy or girl speaking to a brother or a sister? And third, is the brother or sister older or younger than the brother or sister that is doing the speaking? I thought How odd . A word like uh-nee is spoken only from a younger sister to an older sister, but never from a younger brother to an older sister, or older sister to a younger sister . I also learned that age is more critical than gender. Any younger brother or sister could just be addressed as dong-seng . How complicated the Korean language is-- how subtle.

Later, I was sitting in a tea room in Seoul. I remember that it smelled of tear gas from a university demonstration. My Korean friend was just introduced to a stranger of about the same age. I saw her go through three steps:

• Step one: Is it obvious by appearance that one person is older? This works most of the time and the older just addresses the younger as younger person . However, there was no obvious age difference, so on to step two.

• Step two: Ask for the year that the person graduated from college. It turned out to be same year. So the next strategy was to casually ask for the Chinese sign they were born under. My friend asked I am a rabbit, how about you? If the stranger was a different sign, then you can tell who is older. This is because a rabbit only comes around once every 12 years. However, they were both rabbits.

• Step three: As the conversation grew intense and the relationship grew closer, my friend finally had ask And when is your birthday . This is always asked with anxiety because now the elder will have the upper hand. Fortunately, my friend was a month older and could now use that to her advantage.

And so I discovered to my amazement that Koreans MUST respect their elders. They have no choice. If you were reading this in Korean, then you could tell if was respecting you or not!

How I stopped a beating with my camera     return to top

Alan was a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer and a good friend in Korea. He invited me to visit him and his Middle School in Seoul. I left Chun Cheon on a Saturday morning with my camera and a small bag of belongings. When I arrived at his school he was just finishing up his English lessons. Alan asked me to wait in the teacher s room for a few minutes until his class was finished.

I introduced myself to the vice-principal and met some other teachers. After a few minutes, a young boy-student entered the teacher s room and stood in front of the P.E. teacher s desk. I didn t have anything else to do, so I watched the student. It seemed strange to me, because the teacher ignored the student. I m sure that he saw the trembling student, but he just shuffled papers and joked with fellow teachers. The student stood at attention in front of the teacher s desk. His black uniform was out of place in the room full of teachers.

After ten minutes or so, the PE teacher began to shout at the student. I couldn t understand the words but I understood the anger. The teacher would yell out a question ending with EH? and the frightened student would whimper an answer. The teacher got red in face and finally began to hit the student with a blackboard pointer. Most other teachers were looking on and grinning. I looked away for a while, but looked back as if witnessing a traffic accident. The PE teacher got out from behind his desk. He grabbed the little student by the shirt and belt and hurled him like a bowling ball. BANG! The student hit some steel lockers and remained on the floor shaking. The teacher picked him up and smacked him in the face. Again he hurled him against the lockers. Again there was a loud bang as head hit steel.

In my heart I knew that the student was being mistreated. I felt that I had to intervene. My Korean wasn t very good and I knew that my words would not have stopped the beating. My camera was around my neck, so I took it in my hands and walked to where the angry teacher could see me. I pretended to take a picture of the out-of-control teacher. I took a few steps back and pretended to take another picture. The PE teacher looked puzzled then he took a few steps toward me. Two fellow teachers took him by the arms and I quickly left the room.

I waited outside for Alan, sitting on the front stairs. My adrenaline was still pumping when he met me several minutes later. I asked if he was in trouble with his principal. He said that the principal was mad at him, but not to worry about it because I had done the right thing. Alan told me that the seventh-grader was being punished because he held a part-time job. Alan told me that it was against the rules for any student, no matter how poor, to work in a shop. When he told me that, I said In that case, I m glad I brought my camera with me today .

Lessons from four bowls of bul-go-gi     return to top

Some events in life only become clear in retrospect. One of these events centered on a visit to my sister-in-law s house in Seoul. In 1984 I was in Korea teaching English at Dan Gook University. My wife was still in America and I was obliged to visit my wife s sister, Hyun Hee, to eat dinner at her house.

We enjoyed the time together. I showed her pictures of her sister and nephews. Then she said My husband and I have already eaten, so you can eat alone as much as you want . That seemed unusual to me but I understood that I was an honored guest.

Hyun Hee served a full Korean meal: a big bowl of rice and lots of little side dishes. The meal included a side dish of bul-go-gi. I finished it off pretty quickly. After a while, Hyun Hee opened the sliding door and popped her head into the room. She saw that the first dish of bul-go-gi was empty so she took the empty dish and quickly returned with it re-filled.

I like bul-go-gi so I soon finished off the second dish too. Hyun Hee looked in again and saw that the bul-go-gi was gone. As she went to pick up the dish, I told her No, no I ve had enough . She took it anyway. This time I heard some conversation and commotion in the outside room. Hyun Hee was sending her son, Sung Gyun, to the market to buy some more bul-go-gi !! I couldn t believe it. I told her that my stomach was full. After a 30 minutes or so, she entered the room and presented me with a third dish of bul-go-gi. I was sick of the stuff, but I didn t want to insult my sister-in-law. My parents taught me to finish every thing on my plate. They would say Just think of all those hungry people in China . So I just managed to finish off my third bowl of meat. I was really stuffed. But when my sister-in-law saw that the bul-go-gi was gone, she gave me fourth bowl. This time I couldn t eat a bite (even if I thought of the hungry people in China). I just pushed the table away and said, my stomach is full, I m gonna die . That ended my big meal. We talked some more and then I left.

A few months later my wife came to Korea and together we visited Hyun Hee. I understood enough of the conversation to catch that Hyun Hee was laughing and telling my wife how much bul-go-gi I ate. I defended myself by saying I only ate what she gave me. I thought I was supposed to do that .

As the two sisters talked and talked, a light bulb went on in my head. It was a battle of ethics I thought. My Protestant ethic told me to finish all my food and not be wasteful. This clashed with her Confucian ethic to give me as much as I could eat . With 20/20 hindsight I could see that I ate and ate and nearly got sick in order to be polite and that she sent her son to the market to buy more food in order to be polite. I chuckled to myself That lesson cost me about five pounds of weight .

Keeping Korean Time     return to top

I learned about Korean Time when I first stepped foot in Korea. The bus was late to pick us up at Kimpo Airport. Our sponsor said Don t worry, the bus driver is keeping Korean time . I shortly learned that Korean time means approximately the exact time, and usually several minutes late .

The first time I met my wife-to-be she was keeping Korean time. I was already ten minutes into teaching an English workshop for local teachers. I looked to back of the room and saw this good-looking 22-year old woman teacher sneaking in with her back to the wall. When I asked her out to a tea room, she was about 20 minutes late.

Let me wish her a happy anniversary with my favorite anonymous Sijo poem:

    What is love like?
    Is it round or is it square? Long or short?
    Is there more to measure than what I am stepping on?
    You may not think that it lasts long, but I can t see where it ends.

May the Good Lord keep Korean time when it s time to call you home.

Mother-in-law Test     return to top

I never realized this until a few years ago, but my mom underwent a Korean mother-in-law test. My wife said that she passed the test with flying colors. It happened like this.

When I returned home from the Peace Corps, my Korean bride returned with me. Of course she was anxious to meet my family and her new in-laws. After we passed through customs at Sea-Tac Airport, she met for the first time her bothers-in-law, her sisters-in-law, her father-in-law, and with most apprehension her new mother-in-law. They all hugged my new wife and welcomed her into the family. But what kind of mother-in-law would this be?

We lived with my mother and father for the first few months of our life together in America. There was a lot of adjusting to do. My only task was to adjust to a new wife, but she had to adjust to a new husband, to a new culture and to a new mother-in-law. But what kind of mother-in-law would this be?

She told me stories of the typical Korean mother-in-law. She was first a girl who was born as somebody s daughter. She had no rights or authority. She next grew into a woman and married. She became somebody s wife and still had no rights or authority. She gave birth to son, but still she was powerless. Finally, finally, her son married and she became a MOTHER-IN-LAW. She becomes a living terror ruling over her son s wife with a vengeance. This is especially true if the wife is unlucky enough to live with the son s parents. But what kind of mother-in-law would this be?

One of the first things I did when I arrived in America was to buy a car. I saw a white Opal in used car lot. Some of my buddies said it was a good deal so I bought it and drove it home. I did not consult my new wife and she was not part of my decision making process. My lovely wife did not like car. I m not sure why. Maybe it was the stick shift because she thought an automatic was easier, or maybe she didn t like it because I bought it without her approval. We drove around the block in the car and entered the house. We started to shout at each other in the kitchen. My mother was sitting at the kitchen table just listening to the angry words. My wife knew that in Korea, a son s mother would always take the side of her son against his wife. But what kind of mother-in-law would this be?

With tears in her eyes, my wife looked to her mother-in-law. My mom looked at me and said, Chris, you have a wife now. You should not have bought that car without talking to your wife about it first . I sighed in resignation, nodded my head in agreement, and the next day I sold the car. A week or so later, we shopped together and bought a Toyota. The relationship between my wife and my mother has seen its ups and downs. But in the kitchen on that day, my wife discovered what kind of mother-in-law she would have.

How do you say Miss Korea in Korean?     return to top

One of the celebrated ideas in the study of linguistics is called the Sapir-Worf hypothesis . According to this idea language determines thought . In other words, what language you speak dictates what thoughts you think. This idea may seem strange at first blush, but if you are a competent speaker in two languages, you can see the truth behind the hypothesis.

I know a Korean young lady who is fluent in both Korean and English. She is also an ESL teacher. It is very difficult for her to speak to a group of older people in the Korean language, because she must keep a respectful distance from her audience. She can t joke and chide the old folks. Respect and deference are built into the fabric of Korean. This young lady blossoms into an entirely different person when she speaks to a group in English. The barriers are gone, the power relationship has shifted, and she can get her message across.

The Korean language is why older Koreans who live in America think and act just like their counterparts in Korea. The geography has changed but the language and hence the thoughts have not. This is also why Korean grandparents can t relate to their own grandchildren. The blood may be Korean, but if the language is American, then the thoughts are American and the behavior is American. It s like grandparents and grandchildren come from different planets.

Whenever a Korean woman speaks to her eun-ni she is predisposing her thought. She is placing herself in a subordinate position to her big sister . English doesn t do this. When a Korean speaks of ki-bun or Ma-um or even uri nara , he is thinking in a way that Americans can t think. We Americans can translate these words, but we have no equivalent word in English.

When I was first studying Korean, a fellow student asked the teacher what is the Korean word for photogenic. The teacher thought and thought and said there is no Korean word for that . The teacher was right. There may be a Korean translation, but no Korean word because photogenic is not a Korean thought. When I first arrived in Korea, I wanted to pay a complement to a pretty girl, so I whispered to my teacher, How of you say Miss Korea in Korean? He looked puzzled and said Miss Korea.

Maybe your language determines more than your thought. Think about it. Language determines thought, thought determines behavior, behavior determines habit, habit determines character and character determines destiny. You become what you speak.

About Korean Names and Unmarried Women     return to top

Many Koreans immigrating to America recognize the importance of assuming an American name. Ko Hyun Hee becomes Nancy Ko and Kim Seung He becomes Fred Kim. Many Koreans may not know that it works the same way for Americans settling in Korea.

When my group of Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Korea, the first job of our instructors was to assign us all Korean names. This was an important ritual. My name Chris Foreman was transformed into O Song Min . Foreman = O Min and Chris = Song. My best friend James McGuire became Meng Jin Su . Karen Bachelor became Bek Ke Ran .

Koreans should be grateful that they must convert their name into only one new language. We all had to learn to write our names in both Korean and in Chinese. I think my Chinese name was XXX.

Most of the names worked well, but a few of them bombed. One of my friends received the name Ko Tek Jin . That name probably sounded fine to Korean ears, but the instructors quickly changed it when all the Americans called him Kotex son seng.

About that time, Karen Bachelor ( Bek Ke Ran ) was sitting in a tea room with several of us. Some Korean young men were practicing their English. One of them wanted to ask Miss Bek if she were married or single. He started thumbing through a Korean/English dictionary and finally asked her hesitatingly By the way, are you a virgin? Miss Bek got red in the face and the rest of us died laughing. How could such a polite person ask such an impertinent question? Apparently his dictionary defined the word aggashi as virgin . At one time that might have been true, but in 1972 most single Peace Corps women were of questionable virginity. For the next several weeks I could make Karen blush by asking her innocently. By the way, are you a virgin? . I was cruel back then.

Greeting Pak Chung Hee     return to top

I was a news junkie during my stay in Korea. Every evening I listened to Armed Forces Radio broadcasts and every Saturday I awaited the delivery of my Time Magazine. Listening to and reading about events in America kept me connected to my homeland. I remember sitting in my friend s room listening to Armed Forces Radio. A cheer went up when Richard Nixon finished his resignation speech. News of home is most cherished when you are abroad.

Sometimes when my Time arrived in my mailbox, it would resemble Swiss Cheese. I would read in the index something like: Korean government clamps down on college students . Page 55 . I would turn to page 55 and find half a page missing. The other half would be scissored out. Of course, that would make me more curious so I would visit the American Embassy and read the uncensored Time. I often wondered why the third republic would censor articles in English language magazines. Seeing all the cutouts and blacked out lines diminished my opinion of President Pak s government much more than reading about student unrest. A wiser leader would have accepted criticism as a price of rule.

But scissor snipping was only the most obvious method of managing the Korean media. There were more subtle ways. I subscribed to the Daily Korea Herald / English Language Edition. Every few days I would notice an article about President Pak Chung Hee meeting with some high foreign dignitary. Accompanying the article would be a picture of President Pak and the Foreigner. After looking at several of these pictures, I began to notice a pattern. Pak Chung Hee always stood erect with his back to the camera. The dignitary always bowed. I began making mental note of President Pak pictures and sure enough it was always the same. Now we know that in a proper Korean greeting each person bows to the other, but I never saw that. The newspaper always published the powerful visitor bowing to President Pak. Sometimes a picture is worth a thousands words . Sometimes a picture is not worth two cents.

Trophy Toaster     return to top

When I was first married, my wife and I rented a small room in an apartment building in Yo-i-do. In the main room, our landlady kept a large cabinet with glass doors. In the cabinet she displayed all her treasures. There were family pictures in frames, golf trophies, Korean dolls, a fancy set of teacups and on the top shelf I noticed a toaster.

One morning when I was alone in the apartment, I decided to fix myself an American style breakfast of eggs and toast. Not thinking much about it, I opened the glass cabinet and removed the toaster. I put two pieces of bread in the toaster and enjoyed a big breakfast. When I was finished, I cleaned up the dishes, wiped down the toaster and put it back in the cabinet.

Later in the evening I was reading in our room. Suddenly I heard a loud Korean conversation in the main room between my wife and the landlady. Next my wife came rushing into the room. She said in English this crazy woman says that her toaster is ruined and that you ruined it . I said with some guilt in a timid voice well, I did make some toast this morning and I added quickly but I thought that what the toaster was for. You know to toast bread. My wife stared at me like I was crazy, then she talked some more with the landlady. I think I heard her apologizing and something about Americans not being sensitive to Korean culture. So that evening, I helped my wife take the toaster apart and shine every portion of it until every crumb was cleaned away.

I said while I was rubbing, This is ridiculous. It s just a toaster . She said, But whatever is behind glass is valuable for show, like the dolls and the golf trophy . So I said, you mean the toaster was a trophy too? . She nodded yes like I was from some other planet for not understanding. OK , I said to myself a trophy toaster and another small bit of Korean thinking worked itself into my brain.

My visit to North Korea     return to top

During my visit to Korea in 1984, my wife and I decided to visit Panmunjan We boarded a U.S. military bus in Seoul and headed north into the mountains. Officials checked our passports and gave us instructions like don t make inappropriate gestures to the North Korean guards .

At the DMZ we left the bus and walked up several flights of stairs into a large watch tower. We looked at Northern guards who were looking back at us. We saw rice fields and farm houses in the north, but no one was working. I saw a large flag of North Korea, supposedly the largest flag in the world. My wife and I were guided into the meeting room where peace talks are held. A painted line ran across a long table separating the nation in two. North Korean soldiers were looking at us through small windows. Before we exited the room, the guides invited us to walk around the table and thereby walk into North Korea . I was happy to visit the north, but I was surprised at how frightened my wife was. Just the thought of stepping foot into the land of KIM IL SONG disquieted her. She only half-joked that she might be kidnapped . Well she wasn t kidnapped and we made it back to Seoul just fine.

These days when I read in the newspaper about famine in North Korea, I think about my visit to Panmunjan. I picture guards in towers with binoculars. I visualize a large North Korean flag and an artificial peace village. My prayers are with the people of the north because of their suffering. They are a people to be pitied more than feared. Some day soon the north will collapse and it does not matter if it is a bloody crash landing or a bloodless soft landing . The effect on the south will be traumatic either way. My prayers are with the people of the South, because of the sacrifice that surely lies ahead of them.

Catching the Third Wave    return to top

Our world is in the midst of change. Korea and America are now neighbors in a global village where the main street can be called the information highway . Any Korean citizen or any American citizen can have unfettered access to global news and information with only the click of a mouse and access to the internet. This brave new world of the internet can be counted as the third wave of computers.

The first wave of computers started after World War II with the advent of the first electronic computer, the ENIAC. Early computers were room size and operated with thousands of vacuum tubes. IBM dominated this world. The first wave involved many users and one computer .

The second wave of computers began with the advent of personal computers in the 1970s. Bill Gates with Microsoft strove to place a computer in every home and Steve Jobs tried to place an Apple computer in every classroom. Computers came within the reach of the average person. This second wave involved one computer and one user .

The third wave of computing began with the 1990s and the World Wide Web. We are now in a word of Netscape , HTTP , America On Line and home page . This third wave of computing involves many computers and one user . As you sit in front of your Personal Computer you can have immediate access to millions of computers all over the world. Do you want local news from your home town in Pusan? Then travel there with your finger tips. Do want to listen to Seoul radio? Then open your ears.

The world is getting smaller. Can you see it? We are all getting closer together. Can you feel it?

Climbing stairs to nowhere    return to top

My first job as a Peace Corps Volunteer was in the village of Mu Gook in Chung Chun Puk Do. I was determined to experience the real Korea so I volunteered to teach English in the smallest place available to me. Soon after I arrived I discovered a nearby stairway. This wasn t an ordinary stairway, but a huge concrete structure of about 100 steps leading from a roadside restaurant up the side of high hill and onto a flat area overlooking the entire village. I couldn t figure out the purpose of the stairs. Why would anyone build such a large concrete structure just to visit grass and flowers? But, the view was truly marvelous and I have pictures of Mukuk in the winter, Mukuk in the Spring and MuKuk in the Summer.

It was surprising to me that the stairs were in such disrepair. Erosion knocked many stairs out of place and most had cracks running from side to side. I would occasionally asked Korean friends to walk up with me, but they seemed reluctant and I always walked up the stairs alone. When I left Mu Kuk in 1973 the large concrete stairs were still a mystery to me.

I returned to Korea in 1984 and decided to make a side trip to my old school in Mu Kook. I recognized some of the teachers and had a talk with the principal. I met some of the family members that I lived with eleven years earlier. I wanted to take pictures from my favorite place in Korea. I crossed the familiar bridge and walked toward the concrete stairs. I spotted the old restaurant but the stairs were gone! I was really puzzled by all this and finally decided to talk to one of the English teachers about it.

He shook his head sadly and told me this story: During the rule of the Japanese, Mukuk was administered by a cruel magistrate. He forced local farmers to construct a large concrete stair way to the top of the highest hill in the area. On top of the hill he built a Shinto shrine where all the local Japanese would go to worship and lord it over the Koreans. The place was very much hated by the locals and on the day after the Japanese left town, the local people ran up the stairs and tore down the shrine. The stairs were just too bulky to destroy and were left alone. He told me that around 1980 the hated concrete was broken into pieces and carried to a local water project. How sad I thought that such a beautiful place had such a sorrowful history.

Three rooms gone with the wind    return to top

When Scarlett O Hara looked back on her life before the American Civil War, she remarked that t all the things that she had enjoyed most were passed away, that the old South was gone with the wind . I felt that way on my last visit to Korea.

Long ago, when I lived in the little village of MuKuk in Chung Cheon Pukto, my room was simple with just a small table, a mattress and blanket, and a footlocker that contained my worldly possessions. I didn t spend much time in my room, instead my time was spent at three local establishments that are in 1999 are gone with the wind .

The first place I enjoyed visiting was the mog-yok-tong. These common bathhouses were wonderful for both getting body and soul clean. After two or maybe three hours I finally felt exceptionally clean and wonderfully exhausted. When I returned to Korea, they were all gone. My old friends did all their bathing in private. I think that a sense of community was lost along with community bathing.

The second place I visited often was the ta-bang. I spent hours in those traditional tea rooms sipping ginger tea, sweet bean tea, and coffee. I learned a lot about Korean culture in ta-bangs. I met my girlfriend in a ta-bang and I fell in love. I remember little girls coming up to our table with tiny tangerines cupped in their hands saying in a whisper ten won, ten won . On my return visit, I couldn t find a single traditional tea room. No woman to greet me with a Korean dress and a friendly welcome . No waitress to bring me ginger tea. Where did all the ta-bangs go?

The third place I visited was the tacu chang or ping-pong parlor. There seemed to be one on every corner. Sometimes thirty tables were busy with bouncing balls. Most of my Korean friends were better than me, and I lost many more matches than I won. Koreans were great players! Evenings playing ping pong were always fun and sociable events. On my return visit to Korea, I couldn t find a single ping pong parlor. Does anyone in Korea play ping pong any more?

Maybe private bathing rooms in apartments are better than public baths. Maybe a modern coffee house is better than a traditional tea room and maybe a video arcade and sports arena is better than a humble ping-pong parlor, but something wonderful has surely disappeared. All the things that I enjoyed most doing are passed away. My old Korea, like Scarletts old South, is gone with the wind .

Three hours sleep    return to top

Can you guess who is the best opera writer of all time? Do you think it might be Puccini or Wagner or Verdi? How about the best golfer of all time? Would you guess Arnold Palmer, Jack Nichlos, or maybe Tiger Woods. It may surprise you but the best opera writer is also the best golfer. Amazing! According to an official North Korea autobiography Kim Jong Il wrote seven of the best operas ever written in the world, and once shot 3 holes-in-one during a single round of golf . Do you believe it? (I don t believe it either.)

But let s not laugh too hard at North Korean propaganda. I think that the South Korean government also published the same kind of exaggeration. For years I heard but Pak Chung Hee only slept 3 hours per night . Whenever I stayed up too late and was too tired to get up in the morning, my wife would remind me that Pak Chung Hee only slept three hours per night . If I was supposed to study all night but fell asleep with books around me, she would say but Pak Chung Hee only sleeps three hours per night . I never believed this. What I do believe is that exaggeration is in the Korean blood.

Everyone s a Yangbahn    return to top

It seems that every Korean I meet is a Yangbahn. Maybe Admiral Lee is their great great grandfather. Maybe their mother was the first graduate of E wha university. My wife told me that her great great grand father was the scholar who taught King Sejung. I sometimes wonder what happened to all the decedents of the sang nom del. Maybe they didn t have any kids. When I hear these stories I just nod my head and say that s very interesting . So now when I hear that Pak Chung Hee only slept three hours , I reply but Kim Jong Il wrote the seven best operas .

The Food is Free    return to top

I have taught Sunday School for many years and like to introduce personal experience into my teaching. I am always on the lookout for earthly stories that illustrate eternal truths. One of my favorite illustrative stories involves my wife s dear mother.

My mother-in-law emigrated to America in 1978. She flew on a large jet plane from Seoul to Seattle. She brought very little cash because the ticket was expensive and she brought expensive gifts. She only had a few thousand won and a couple twenty dollar bills. But these were pinned to the inside her han-bok for safe keeping. Flying was a totally new experience for her. The airplane was new to her, the toilets were new to her, the service was new and the customs were new.

After a couple hours in the air, the stewards began passing out peanuts and drinks. Everybody was getting their share, but my mother-in-law didn t have any extra money so she declined the snacks. Instead she took an apple out of her carry-on bag and ate that. A few more hours passed and the stewards were asking passengers what kind of in-flight meal they wanted: chicken, lasagna, or seafood? She was unsure about what to say. Language was part of the problem, but she was also too embarrassed to ask fellow Korean passengers about the meals. She was very hungry by now, but indicated to the steward through gestures that she would not be eating. She really suffered when the meals were delivered. The sight of the person on her right gobbling down seafood was too much to bear. The smell of roasted chicken in the cabin was torturing. As she took out a second apple to munch, other passengers looked on in puzzlement.

My wife and I met her at SeaTac Airport. After shouts, hugs and tears, my wife asked about the flight. She responded that the flight was OK, but that she was very hungry because she didn t have money to buy meals. They chatted more about the meal situation. Finally my wife said but the meals were free. You already paid for them. It was included in the price of your ticket . My mother-in-law took a deep breath and changed the subject. We all three went to an airport McDonald s and she ate her very first Happy Meal. (Maybe she had two of them).

To me, this story illustrates the Grace of God. It is available to us for free. All we have to do is accept it. Some people may travel to the ends of their lives without knowing that the nourishment of God is free for the asking, and that it has already been paid for with a price.

Outside my window    return to top

The streets of Korean cities and villages were always busy with commerce. All kinds of goods and services were sold on the streets just outside my window.

On our street there was a man with a loud voice who sold kimpop. He would shout out kimpop, kimpop . One day my American friends and I were sitting on my ondelbang at my hasookchip. The sliding door was were open. My friend was imitating the street vender with a loud Kimpop, kimpop . Suddenly another sliding door opened and a man said Hey, give me some kimpop over here . He was startled to see that a young American was making the sound. We laughed and laughed

Outside my window there was a father and daughter who sold bondigee in little paper cones made from the chosen ilbo. The man would shout Bon, Bon, Bon and the little girl would add digee, digee, digee . I only tasted bondigee once and didn t care for it. My girlfriend (and now wife of 25 years) used to eat bongigee like I eat popcorn. She doesn t admit that anymore.

I also remember an old gentleman who used to push a small Ferris wheel around my neighborhood. The wheel only held 4 small children. I think he charged 10 won per child for turning the wheel about 10 times. I watched the smiles of the kids as they went round and round. Once I gave the man 100 won and asked him to turn the wheel as long as he could

There was also the little girl who sat in a small chair next to a hot grill and sold little pancakes to passers bye. And the man I only saw on rainy days with his arms full of cheap umbrellas.

My most pleasant memory of a street vender involves eggs. Late one night in the middle of winter I was returning from the train station to my hasukchip. It was bitterly cold and I didn t have gloves. My hands were numb. I spotted a vendor selling hot boiled eggs. I bought two and held one tight in each hand. My hands were warm all the way home and I ate a late night snack.

For my lover, for my enemy and for my God    return to top

The Korean Language is strange. I remember sitting in Korean class while our teacher explained how Koreans used pronouns. She said in normal conversation Koreans don t use pronouns like ME, HE or YOU. Most of the time the sense is perfectly clear without them. So, if a Korean says ka yo that means I am going . Korean is efficient, because the word I is understood. Likewise, mir sal means how old are you . There is no reason to include a pronoun. It s wasteful.

So we asked our teacher when it is appropriate to use a pronoun. especially a pronoun like dongshin . She said, Dongshin is used when there is a intimate relationship between the speaker and the one spoken to . So we figured dongshin is OK between husband and wife, or between girlfriend and boyfriend. Sarang hea dongshin ul is an appropriate use dongshin . But none of us new Peace Corps Volunteers were in an intimate relationship so none of us could use the word. Dongshin is for your lover.

So we pressed the issue. When else can we use dongshin? . She thought and said that we could use dongshin if we wanted to insult someone, because if you assume an intimate tone with some one who is not intimate, then you insult them. We understood this use. If we said to a stranger dongshin . we would be asking for a fight. As students, we were learning polite Korean, so we would not be using dongshin in an impolite way. Dongshin is for your enemy.

Finally, someone raised a hand and said how about at church? I went to church with a Korean friend and they were saying dongshin in all the prayers. Is that impolite? . Our instructor paused for a while and said, No, that s OK because the worshipers are in an intimate relationship with their creator . Dongshin is for your God.

I looked at the notes that my friend next to me was taking Use dongshin (1) with girlfriend, (2) to insult someone and (3) to pray to God . He stood up and asked the teacher, So if I don t have a girlfriend, I don t want to fight anyone and I don t go to church, then I never use dongshin.? The teacher said that s right and thought that the question was strange. We all looked at each other and thought that the Korean language was strange.

The Global Hermit    return to top

When Western missionaries and merchants first stepped foot on Korean soil, they noted an a people extremely determined to keep out foreign devils. More closed than China and more isolated than Japan, Korea was nicknamed the hermit kingdom .

After one century of engagement with the rest of the world, the Northern half of Korea has returned its traditional roots of extreme isolation -- no trade, no contact, just self reliance. This seems a bit odd in a place that calls itself Communist. Isn t Communism supposed to be an international movement where the state will wither away ? North Korea is still the hermit kingdom with Kim Jong Il sitting as king.

In South Korea, things are more schizophrenic. Traditional self-reliance has collided head on with globalization. Old instincts are in constant battle with new reality. Most South Koreans recognize that the economic miracle happening around them is due to world trade, globalization, and engagement with the world. Yet there remains in the hearts of Koreans this dread of foreign devils. I see it all the time.

While Koreans sing global songs in karaoke bars, they sing like their national anthem like hermits Let us keep our nation one blood, uncontaminated .

Like good global citizens, Korean require that every student from 6th grade to 12th grade learn English. Educators insist that English is the key to global success. But strangely, Korea is the only country that I know of to celebrate a national alphabet day for its native Hanguel.

Koreans exporters are global in outlook, frantically sending abroad electronics, cars and clothing. But, Korean importers are hermits, complaining that Korea cannot possibly import American cars without a huge import tax. Why is this?

I believe that Koreans are a passionate people. At times they pull inward like passionate hermits. At other times, they push outward like passionate global citizens. They have become the global hermits of the world.

Is this not a great column ?    return to top

English and Korean are different languages in many ways. One significant way regards how native speakers respond to negative questions. For example, if I asked you in English "You don't have any bananas, do you?". In English you might respond "No, we don't have any bananas." A native speaker would never say "Yes, we have no bananas", because the word "yes" is always followed by a positive statement and the word "no" is always be followed by a negative statement. That's why "Yes, we have no bananas" is the title of a funny song. The words just sound comical to American ears.

But in Korean, the words translate just fine. If I asked you in Korean, "You don't have any bananas, do you?". You might respond, "Yes, we have no bananas". In Korean, as in most languages, speakers follow the logic of the negative question. Logic rules over consistency. English is one of the few languages where consistency over-rules logic.

This subtle difference in language can lead to great miscommunication, even when two people are speaking in the same language. This occurs because how one responds to a negative question is not so much a matter of vocabulary, but of logic. For example, a young American man might say in English "You will never marry me, will you?" A young Korean lady might respond in English "yes". What does she mean? He thinks she means "Yes, I will marry you." But what she intends is "Yes, I will never marry you." There is a world of difference. Here's another example: What if the INS asks you in English "Are you not a native-born American?" A simple yes or no is ambiguous, because the question is asked in the negative.

It works in the other direction too. As an American speaking broken Korean, I might ask you "Doni upsumnika?" You might say "Anyo". Now, I won't know if you mean "Anyo, Upsumnida" or "Anyo, Issumnida". Again there is ambiguity.

One solution to this language/logic problem is to never answer a negative question with a simple yes or no, especially if you are speaking to someone from a different language background. To the question "You will never marry me, will you?" Our Korean lady could avoid all ambiguity by saying either "Yes, I will never marry" or "No, I will never marry you". His heart will be broken with either answer.

So, everyone reading my words can agree on this simple question "IS THIS NOT A GREAT COLUMN? !!" The answer is a not-so-simple "YES!"

Wings and Roots    return to top

The framed poster on the schoolhouse wall read The mission of our school is to provide students with roots to grow and wings to fly . This idea of roots and wings has stuck with me through the years and has helped me to focus my philosophy of education. Roots and wings also finds application in the context of parents guiding the education of their own children. This is especially true of the Korean diaspora in America today.

Korean parents who have recently emigrated to America are like parents from all over the world. Above all, they want their children to enjoy a successful future. Metaphorically, they want to provide their children with wings to fly . Korean parents want their children to fly over all obstacles, to soar above the clouds, and to nest upon the highest mountain tops. To make this future happen, Korean-born mothers send their Americanized daughters to the best schools with the hardest classes. The endless noise in the daughter s ears echoes Study, Study, STUDY! Korean-born fathers work at three jobs and sacrifice everything to ensure that their America-speaking sons are enrolled in the best kindergarten, in order that they might attend the best grade school, in order that they might attend the best high school, in order that they might attend the best high school, in order that they might attend the best university and so on.

In the midst of all this Study! Study! Study! , something gets lost. Yes, Korean parents have given their children wings to fly , but where are the roots to grow ? How can a tree (or a child) grow up to be straight and tall if it has no roots? Where are the connections to the past? If a tree (or a child) has shallow roots, what will happen when a storm comes and the winds blow?

Korean parents are now recognizing the need to provide their children with roots to grow . In the past few years, public schools have started to teach Korean as a Second Language (KSL). Americanized Korean children are now learning the native language of their parents. Today there are (6?) teachers in the San Francisco Unified School District who specialize in KSL. This number is small compared to number of weekend academies that are now teaching Korean Language and Culture. The Association of .. recognizes about ???? academies in the Bay Area. On September ???, children attending these academies showed off their Korean language skills at a tournament. Three hundred boys and girls demonstrated that they do have roots to grow and that they will grow to be straight and tall.

My message to all Korean parents is this: in your haste to provide your kids with wings to fly , do not neglect their need for roots to grow .

Lights out in North Korea    return to top

My friends and I were sitting in a tea room with a group of Korean teachers. The conversation moved to Korea s neighbors. We first asked how do you feel about China? They said that China was the origin of their civilization The word China means center of the world. They know that China is communist now, but they feel close to the Chinese people. We next asked What about Russia? Our teachers said that although Russia borders with Korea, Russia doesn t loom large in the Korean psyche. When we asked about Japan, the teachers clenched their teeth. I could read the dislike in their eyes. They said Japan is a wicked nation. The Japanese occupied us and abused the Korean People. Finally we asked about North Korea. At first they looked puzzled. They had not thought of North Korea as a foreign country . We asked do you hate the North Koreans? . They said No, the people of the North are the same as us. How can we hate ourselves? I sensed a feeling of sadness, loss, fear and ambivalence toward the people of the North.

I share this ambivalence toward North Korea. Perhaps right after the Korean War there was hatred toward the north. Later the hate changed to fear. And in 1999 fear has become a sea of sadness. The situation in the Democratic People s Republic of Korea was made clear to me while I was reading a National Geographic magazine.

You may know that each issue of National Geographic comes with a large fold out map. These fold-outs have long been my favorite part of the magazine. In this issue, the map featured a view of earth as it would look at night. The map was accomplished by overlapping several night time satellite photographs. I studied the contours of the map for several minutes, picking out patterns of light and dark. The east coast of the United States was aglow with light. Only the Atlantic Ocean seemed able to stop the brightness. I could see the dense population of India along the Ganges River. The blanket of light turned into darkness as it met the Himalayan foothills. The continent of Australia appeared as I expected: a few lights along the ocean perimeter with darkness in the interior. The lighting in Egypt was especially curious. There appeared to be a snake of light clinging to the Nile river, not able to penetrate the Sahara desert.

I understood all these natural barriers to light: ocean, mountain, wilderness and desert. But what explained the Korean peninsula? The city of Seoul was bright with light and lesser light followed down the western coast looping toward Pusan. But there was no light in the north. A dim speck in Pyung-yang was all that I could see. Like a desert or a wilderness, the light stopped abruptly at the 38th parallel. How sad , I thought. It s politics acting like a desert . This picture of lightlessness remains with me and describes more than one million words the true plight of Koreans in the north. The lights are out in our northern half, extinguished by a political desert.

The Lights of Christmas    return to top

A few weeks ago I attended a Christmas concert presented by a number of Korean churches in San Francisco. A combined church choir presented Handel s Messiah. The event reminded me of how the birth of Christ transcends time and culture. At the time that Handel wrote his masterpiece in 1754, there wasn t a single Korean Christian. Now there were millions and I was listening to the words of Christmas sung in the Korean language. As I listened to Christmas words, my mind wandered back to a Christmas service that I attended many years earlier in Wisconsin State. At this service a woman stood to give this testimony, a story of Christmas that I will always remember:

Christmas Eve started cold and dark. My husband ran outside to warm up my car. Once the windows were defrosted, I left for work. Although I was up, the sun was still down. I drove into town with my headlights on. Throughout the day, my mind was not focused on waiting tables. I was thinking about Christmas. The restaurant served few customers so I didn t get much in tips. This soured my mood since I had hoped to take home some extra money for the holidays. After work, I shuffled to my car and turned on my headlights. The idea of leaving home in the dark and returning home in the dark depressed me more. Driving through the country side, I could see the last rays of the sun glinting off snow covered pines. When I reached the intersection leading into town, I began seeing Christmas lights. Every porch along the highway seemed to twinkle with green, red and white lights. Some of my neighbors had bright Santas, others had manger scenes. Our family had a small Christmas tree, but no outside lights. I felt bad for my husband, for myself, but especially for my children. I hesitated near the corner Walmart. Should I buy some Christmas lights? I knew that the tip money in my purse wouldn t buy much, so I stepped on the accelerator and continued to drive home. I was driving up a hill leading home, looking at lights on house after house and feeling sorry for myself. I prayed aloud God, why can t I have Christmas lights like these? Even as I prayed this, I felt worse. After all, I was a Christian. I should not be coveting my neighbor s possessions. I had felt envious and because I recognized this, I felt guilty. Oh, God, what a miserable Christian I am . As I topped the last hill before my driveway, I saw the most dazzling display of them all. But his display was not affixed to a house. The Christmas lights shone in the sky. Burst in my eyes were spectacular reds and yellows blending into blues. High frosty vapor trails added garlands of white to the display. Enclosing this sunset was a velvet blue with the first twinkling stars of night. I switched off the ignition in my carport. I bowed my head. God, forgive me, how magnificent is your creation! Electric lights pale in your brightness. Thank you for reminding me of the true light that overcomes darkness. Let my neighbors keep their artificial lights. Your Christmas light in the sky is sufficient for me. I laughed, bundled my winter coat around my shoulders and walked briskly into the warmth of my home.