Jeju-North Korean Connections

The February 5th issue of The Jeju Weekly reported that Kim Jong-un's maternal grandfather was born on the island of Jeju in 1913.  Apparently he left Jeju during the Japanese occupation of Korea to work in Japan.  In Japan he met and married another Jejuian.  They had a daughter, born in 1952 in Japan.  In 1962 the family moved to North Korea where the young woman later joined a dance troop and caught the eye of the leader of that country, a relationship that eventually produced Kim Jong-un.

The early years after the Korean War were hard in both Koreas.  Back then the North was economically better off than the South and attracted many Japanese Koreans who thought life would be better there.  Most did not fare as well as this family from Jeju-do.

Whole villages were burned during the Jeju massacre that started in 1948

The irony of this story is that Jeju-do underwent a huge massacre that lasted from 1948 for the next 7 years, a massacre that was justified by accusations that Jeju protesters were communist.  In reality the protests that sparked the Jeju Rebellion, as it has been called, was more about economics and politics.  After World War II many young men returned to Jeju (many had been conscripted to either fight for the Japanese or to work in Japanese war factories) only to find that there was no work to be found.  In addition, the United States was pushing an election in South Korea that would divide the country.  Parts of Jeju-do

The Jeju massacre slaughtered citizens without regard for age or gender

Protesting the building of the Naval Base as a funeral to the ecology and to peace

The village of Kongjeong prefers to be a village of Peace

boycotted the election to protest the division of the country, an action that resulted in severe retribution by the Korean military under orders from the United States Command in Korea.  The purge resulted in the massacre of an untold number of Jeju men, women, and children.

Kim Jong-un's grandfather had probably already left for Japan before 1948, but the discovery of his birthplace is fodder for spin from several groups.  Those who want to justify the actions of the military use it to support the theory that the 1948 protesters were communist.  For others, particularly some residents of Jeju who are still protesting military build-up in the area, this news can be seen as a reminder that all Koreans are family and that the division is the result of foreign intervention and militarism (or imperialism) and that Jeju-do is now, as it has always been, an island that values peace and unity.

Residents of Kongjeong village continue to protest the building of a large naval base there.  They see the base as not only an assault on local ecology, but also as a symbol of the militarism that has disrupted the peace of the island for many years and of international imperialism, especially by the United States that still maintains a major military presence in South Korea.

Mentors

The icons who inspired my generation are slowly slipping away.  Nelson Mandela, Pete Seeger....  Others, like John Lennon, left us long ago.  Our world is changing.  The U.S. Congress is gridlocked, fighting for the next election instead of for the needs of their constituents.  Wars rage throughout the world.  Sexual assault and gun violence are so common that they don't even make the evening news. Apathy is rampant.

Meanwhile, consumerism has become the new god of many throughout the world.  CocaCola sales are higher than ever in Mexico.  Even during the recession of the past few years sales of luxury items never dropped.  In South Korea the streets of Insa-Dong are packed with young shoppers.  Churches are more concerned with their coffers than with the hungry.  Clergy sex abuse scandals are at the top of the news.  Young people are apathetic to world affairs.

But are the times really changing all that much?  In the midst of the hustle and bustle of the consumer world are enclaves of alternative thought.  The new Pope is a breath of fresh air in an institutionalized and often corrupt religious organization.  The people of Cangjeong village fight the military machine by symbolic protests that continue daily year after year.  As part of their protest they crochet sweaters for their trees and set up free libraries on street corners.  Their tactics are not much different from those of Pete Seeger who hoped to use his music to counter violence.

Recently I spent 3 days in a Buddhist Temple.  The Sunims (nuns) want to change the world.  Their weapons are their smiles and their sincerity.  They believe that through midfullness and meditation they can reach a state of enlightenment or perfect peace.  They choose a simple life.  Their shaven heads and make-up free faces shine with unadorned beauty that comes from peace within and compassion for their surroundings.  My time with the Sunims gave me hope for the world.  I saw that it is possible for young women to find peace and happiness without a Coach purse, that the values of our mentors are not dead. 

I saw the same thing in the young women who accompanied me on this journey to Korea.  They went to fulfill a college requirement, but got a lot more out of it than a grade.  They were able to experience solidarity with the demonstrators, with their Korean peers, and with the Sunims.  In the process they began to appreciate their personal responsibility and their place in the world.  Perhaps one of them will be the future equivalent of Mother Theresa or Indira Ghandi, or maybe a neighborhood leader who stands up for justice.  There is hope.  New mentors will emerge!

The First Step

Imagine a young girl, 17 years old, walking alone through the snow and the cold day after day until her feet are frozen.  She stumbles across the frozen river in the dead of night.  She has escaped North Korea into China but her journey is only beginning.  Her feet need immediate medical attention.  Kind strangers, part of a little known Underground Railroad, take her to a sympathetic doctor.  The prognosis is grim.  She is likely to loose both feet.  But it is too dangerous for her to stay where she is.  There is heightened security inside North Korea and the Chinese border patrol is searching everywhere.  She has to be moved deeper into China where another doctor takes over her care.  With time and patience her feet begin to heal and only two toes need to be amputated. But time is short.  If she is discovered she will be sent back to North Korea where she will be imprisoned or executed.  If she stays in China she is likely to be trafficked or sold to a Chinese husband.  The Underground Railroad moves her on until, feet still swaddled in bandages, she reaches a safe haven in a third country.  In her letter of thanks she tells those that helped her that she will study hard because she wants to be a doctor to help others who are poor and hurting just as she was.

This is just one of many stories of the refugees who arrive in Northern China.  This young lady left China with five other girls, each with her own story of survival.  The majority of the refugees escaping from North Korea are female.  This surprised me so I asked why.  I got two answers.  First, the women can hide themselves easier in China because they can more easily find work in restaurants or can be sold or trafficked.  The second is that men have to report for work or military service.  Men have ten years of mandatory military service.  Women have only two years of military service and do not have to report to work.  Their disappearance might not be noticed as quickly as that of a man.

Often when we hear about North Korea the emphasis is on military threats and nuclear proliferation.  Aid efforts often fail to help the most needy causing frustration among donors and others wanting to help.  Here in Korea I hear over and over again that the young are apathetic to social issues in their own country and see North Korea and the possibility of reunification as a needless financial strain on the South Korean economy.  I am told that they no longer teach Korean history in Korean schools.  Many young people do not know and do not care.  Beauty and money are the gods of their generation.

Where does that leave our young lady with the frozen feet?  Without the activists of the Underground Railroad she would have been left to die my the river or captured and sent back to North Korea.  She knows that she owes her life to their faith and their bravery.

The activists are seeing some signs of change.  They are seeing pockets of young people beginning to care.  There is a strange coalition forming between Christian youth and liberals led by activists from earlier decades.  Their interest, along with that of other groups throughout the world, can ignite awareness and build energy towards change.  Governments have not been able to find solutions.  It is only through the individual acts of bravery and compassion that we can chip away at the forces that cause suffering in North Korea, in the Congo, and in every other corner where humanity suffers.  We must each find what touches our own heart and take action, no matter how small, to alleviate a little bit of suffering or feat.

Connections

I am back in Korea weaving a little more color into the tapestry of my life.  This time I am co-leading a course for 18 students from St. Catherine University in St. Paul, Minnesota.  The course is titled "Global Search for Justice Korea: Voices of Dissent and Women".  Although I am revisiting many of the places I went to last summer while preparing the course, I am seeing them through new eyes - my vision changed by the perspectives of the young women taking the course.

Our group has an interesting combination of individuals and cultures.  We have 11 Hmong American students whose families came to the U.S. as refugees after the war in Southeast Asia.  Two of the students are Hispanic/Chicana with close ties to Mexico and El Salvador.  One is Tibetan.  The other 4 are Caucasian but interestingly 3 of their grandfathers fought in the Korean War.

When learning about the evolution of the role of women in Korea many of the Hmong students saw parallels to their own culture and discussed the process of changing social norms and gaining equal status from a very personal perspective.

One of the favorite things about this course has been the interaction with Korea college students and Korean Buddhist nuns who were all about the same age as our students.  We spent 3 days living in a Buddhist Temple where bonds were formed and new Facebook friends emerged.  Our students began the Temple Stay with some trepidation.  It all seemed so foreign and scary.  By the time we left there were hugs and tears of parting.  For me one of the highlights of the Temple stay was the interfaith dialog that took place both formally and informally.  On the informal side there was the devout Catholic student making the sigh go the cross before each prostration and the many chats over coffee between the head Buddhist Sunim, a Catholic nun, a Catholic theologian, and myself (the daughter of Protestant missionaries).  During the 4:15 chants each morning there was a Christian prayer offered.  Our last evening at the temple the Buddhist and Catholic nuns led a discussion of faith.  We were then divided into groups of 3 with one Sunim in each group.

In Gwangju the students learned about the massacre of May 18, 1980.  They shared the experience with Korean college students who had close family ties to that event.  The Korean and U.S. Students shared rooms in the retreat center, shared beer and chicken parties, and worked together on a family history project geared towards helping them find connections with each other and with the history of Korea.  The connections and the learning were amazing.  The Korean students were surprised to learn of the 3 grandfathers who fought in the Korean War.  Many of them also had relatives who had fought in Southeast Asia and related to the Hmong students' stories of war, refugee camps, and forced immigration.  More Facebook friends and tearful goodbyes.

Other highlights included a trip to Peace Life Valley in the Gong-wondo region of the DMZ which included not only a beautiful trip into the mountains and some fun Korean folk tales, but the opportunity to warm up and bond in a Korean style sauna.

Our last stop before returning to Seoul was in Congjeong village in Jeju.  Jeju showed a different Korean women's history as well as connections to U.S. Policy in modern Korean history.  It combined beauty with sadness and brought many things together for the students.

From the "comfort women" and the plight of North Korean refugee women sold to Chinese men, we heard about historical and present oppression of women.  But we also learned about the leadership of Korean women from the Jeju Heonyo to the students and graduates of Ewha.

These young women will return home with new perspectives and new self-awareness.  But first they have a few more days in Seoul to shop, play, and reconnect with Korean friends they have met along their journey.

For me it has been a time to learn, grow, and reconnect with friends here in Korea as well as the opportunity to meet new friends and to get to know 18 amazing young women who came along for thus journey.

Pray for the prisoners

I learned this week that Father Yang has been imprisoned.  He is the second of the brave Catholic clergy we met in Jeju last summer to go to prison.  His crime was upholding his Christian values through peaceful protest.  He, and many others (including priests and nuns) go daily to the construction site of a major naval base.

Father Yang's arrest brings me sadness because I know him personally, if even for a very short time.  I have seen his humble grace and gentle humor.  I know of his humanity and commitment to social justice.  He opened doors for my work in Korea by supplying invaluable contacts.

Supporters say the base is needed to protect south Korea, Japan, and other Asian nations from the military threat posed by north Korea and possibly China.  Opponents say that military escalation and destruction of the environment are counterproductive to world peace.

It seems that my own life has been punctuated by war and protests against war and social injustice.  Some will say that the end justifies the means.  I personally cannot see it.

I was born during the first year of the Korean War and grew up in post-war south Korea only to return to the United States in time for the Viet Nam War.  In both countries I was witness to, or took part in, protests, even riots.  After college I returned to Korea in the Peace Corps and witnessed the military dictatorship and oppression of the Park Chung-hee regime.  During that time a dear family friend, Geoge Ogle, was deported from Korea for the crime of praying for the prisoners, those who reportedly opposed the government.  Shortly after George's departure I visited his family only to win my own two Korean secret service minders.  It was also during my Peace Corps years that I visited Saigon where the ongoing war could still be heard in the distance and the beggars and the maimed bore witness in the streets.  Back in the U.S. again I watched in horror as many innocent Chinese lost their lives in Tiananmen square.

After I was married I moved to Panama with my husband, only to again be caught up in riots, coup attempts, and political upheaval that necessitated our return to the United States.  It was during that time that through my own experiences and those of my Panamanian family,  the lies and propaganda of our own government were truly exposed to me.  There was a stark contrast between the reports available in the United States and the first-hand accounts and photographs provided by family.

Since then we have been involved in wars in the middle east and Afghanistan. 

I have not been physically present for these later wars, but through my work caring for refugees from Laos, Somalia, Ethiopia, and other countries impacted by war, I have heard the stories and seen the anguish of the mother separated from her children with no idea if they are alive or dead.  I have seen the victim of rape, paralyzed both physically and emotionally by her torture.  I have seen the devastation of post traumatic stress disorder and of physical conditions that have gone undiagnosed and untreated for too long, destroying young lives.

Regardless of the arguments for military escalation, military intervention, military bases; I have a gut reaction based on my personal experiences and observations and fueled by my Christian upbringing.  My gut say NO MORE in capital letters.  Life should be punctuated by the joys of welcoming a new baby, by relationships, by the grief of losing a loved one who has lived a good life and is ready to move on, not by the anguish and devastation of war.  We should not destroy the beauty of God's creation by war and preparation for war.

PRAY FOR THE PRISONERS WHO ARE BRAVE ENOUGH TO STAND FOR THEIR BELIEFS AND FOR THE PEOPLE THEY ARE TRYING TO PROTECT

Food, Culture, and Oppression

I heard a program on the radio this morning that made me think.  It was a food program, Splendid Table,  The topic was Cala, an African treat brought to Louisiana by slaves.  Cala are rice cakes.  More rice is consumed by the people of Louisiana than in any other part of the world outside of Asia (at least according to the program). 

But what held my attention was not the recipe for the Cala, but the story of oppression and a way out.  Louisiana, unlike many of the southern states in the United States, had 3 classes of people with distinct rules for each.  The classes were: the whites, the free coloreds, and the slaves.  The rules for the slaves included a rule that every slave had to be given one day off each week.  Many of the slaves spent their day off manning street booths that sold things like Cala.  The second related rule was that if a slave asked the master for his price and had the money to pay the price, the master had to free him.  A freed slave joined the freed colored class which allowed him to own land, open a business, and send his children to college. Cala turned out to be the source of freedom for some of the slaves.  Now Cala is appearing on the menus of upscale restaurants.

Food, and changes in food, are a huge part of culture.  Rice is also the staple food in Korea.  Traditionally white rice has been considered the food of the rich while unpolished brown rice has been the food of the poor.  During the Japanese occupation during the first half of the 20th century, much of the rice was taken by the Japanese, leaving little or none for the poor Korean farmers.  The farmers learned that sweet potatoes could be stored in caves for long periods of time.  Gradually sweet potatoes gained a larger share of the diet. 

After the Korean War there was more rice, but it was still difficult for the poor to provide enough to feed their families so the rice was mixed with fillers.  As a child I loved the rice mixed with beans, barley, chestnuts, and other fillers; but pure white rice was still recognized as the preferable offering for guests.  When I was in college and supporting myself on a very limited income, rice with fillers was the core of my diet.  It was filling, tasty, nutritious, and affordable.

Now the tide has turned.  Korea has joined the ranks of the health conscious affluent nations.  My morning rice bowl when I returned to Korea recently was filled with brown rice with fillers, not because of poverty, but because of the health benefits of the whole grain rice with added fiber.  The mixed rice is no longer a symbol of poverty and oppression.  Like the Cala, it is a stylish addition to the diet of the affluent.

The ingredients for Cala include:

• leftover rice (about 2 cups)
• flour (about 6 tablespoons)
• sugar (about 3-4 tablespoons)
• baking powder (about 3 teaspoons)
• I would probably add a pinch of salt to make the baking powder rise better
• 2 eggs to make it all stick together
• a little vanilla

the batter is dropped into hot oil by tablespoons or small balls and deep fried until it is golden brown on both sides (it will flip over in the oil by itself)

after frying the Cala can be dipped or rolled in powdered sugar.

the outside rice is crispy while the inside of the Cala is soft and breadlike

This recipe reminds me of the hush puppies my grandmother used to make in North Carolina.  Hush puppies also have a slave connection.  The story is that these corn-based pop-overs were cooked outside.  The smell of the delicious treats caused the hounds to howl.  To quiet them down, the slaves doing the cooking would throw them a morsel and say "Hush puppy!"

My mother used to make hush puppies as a treat in Korea.  They are a basic corn bread recipe, but can have parsley, onions, hot peppers, or other seasonings added for extra flavor.  The batter is spooned into hot oil and deep fried creating a crispy treat that is particularly good with fish or barbeque served with cole slaw.  Another inexpensive southern treat.

Global Search for Justice

St. Catherine University, where I teach, requires all juniors and seniors to take a course title "Global Search for Justice."  Those teaching this course can choose from a number of topics including immigration, women's health, voices of dissent, etc.

This past summer I spent a month in Korea with my co-instructor, learning and traveling to prepare to teach our new section titled "Women's Voices of Dissent and Women's Health".  Now that we are back it is time to plan out the details of the class: how to combine history, cultural perspective, current events, and health care issues as they relate to women.  The themes have to be universal.  The women on this trip need to learn as much, or more, about themselves than they learn about Korea.  They have to learn to see from many perspectives, how to set priorities that make a difference, how to use the small things to build a network for change... But how do you teach these things?  Can young women from the United States spend 3 weeks in Korea, now a wealthy developed country, and feel the pain of the ghosts that continue to reside there?  Even if they can grasp the pain of the journey, can they transform that pain into action?  Can they become the compassionate leaders who will find a way to end war, provide health and nourishment to the next generation, do away with greed, and move the world to a new reality?
Of course not.  But they can build a foundation for themselves that may ripple out in ways we can barely imagine.  My charge is to pick and choose the experiences that will provide the fodder for their thought, craft the reflections that will touch their hearts; all while keeping them safe, happy, and entertained.

It is a big charge, but an exciting one.  To teach is to touch lives in ways that play it forward, to provide opportunities to stretch both the mind and the heart,
Yesterday I put posters up around campus.  The posters are an attempt to start the process.  The many wonderful people of Korea will do the rest.  I need ideas on how to bring it all together to package the experience for processing and growth.  Undergrads need structure.  They are not yet mature enough to realize that they are weaving their own tapestries.

At times like this it is easy to feel inadequate.  I have to remind myself that my experience is my own.  It belongs to no one but me.  Likewise, my students will liver their own experience.  They will mold themselves from what they take away from their own experiences and their own dance.  While I can touch their lives, I cannot (and do not want to) shape their lives.

Our inadequacies and imperfections are our art.  They are what makes us grow.  We each own a tiny piece of history.  It is unique.  It carries our personal and unmistakable scent into the winds of time.  What makes history so fascinating is the combination of personal imperfections and genius dancing together in simultaneous harmony and conflict.

Just as many topics and experiences come together in this course, our students will come together making their collective and individual mark and taking away with them their own impressions, the messages that impacted them most profoundly.  They will process in their own way, come to their own conclusions, and touch those around them beginning a chain reaction.  I am sure that I will be one of those touched by their vision just as much as I am a catalyst for their thinking.   Now to work on the structure on which students will hang their new experiences to let them distill, mature, and begin their growth.  The structure needs to be generic enough to flow with the dance, but sturdy enough to form a foundation.