tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30485798620221901242024-03-19T01:36:57.841-07:00Return of the NativeMy brother, sister, and I are giving my mother a trip to Korea, her homeland. We arrived in the US in 1966, and neither my mother nor I have gone back. As can be expected, she is very excited.
I remember the excitement that enthralled us children as we were moving to the U.S. I can still remember the stirring of emotion as the big jumbo jet landed in Anchorage, Alaska. Soon, it lifted off for a shorter journey to Chicago.
Now we are retracing that journey back to the land of our birth.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-26359990277409603392008-10-09T18:18:00.000-07:002008-10-09T18:58:03.269-07:00Glimpse of Korea 2008<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwPYLtf37XhCDd7Dgtx9IC5r4Id4NQaCmweiKJ2UZYlfOe2lfWS5ud-BMtVxmRstQHq7HQhHesLE1Av7n_LVzHl3VF7f588KhkxDX6TBukEbBkrIOX0qXytlZmU21azpE7vtRs-oHZ98/s1600-h/PICT0115.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwPYLtf37XhCDd7Dgtx9IC5r4Id4NQaCmweiKJ2UZYlfOe2lfWS5ud-BMtVxmRstQHq7HQhHesLE1Av7n_LVzHl3VF7f588KhkxDX6TBukEbBkrIOX0qXytlZmU21azpE7vtRs-oHZ98/s320/PICT0115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255338391607893794" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" 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href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3Dk8s10imP5H4GEPmR-AY3JV2nasQtx6bmwbRli8S9BIwFN5B5chM8KlWAZLQZ1fBX6L2CPDcqwv5Z9BT39WFBbOJq9fbQvVDxwS0dbmRawcyUvn_WCSbrgmPYn4d8pX9tK1dB9oq3s/s1600-h/PICT0017.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3Dk8s10imP5H4GEPmR-AY3JV2nasQtx6bmwbRli8S9BIwFN5B5chM8KlWAZLQZ1fBX6L2CPDcqwv5Z9BT39WFBbOJq9fbQvVDxwS0dbmRawcyUvn_WCSbrgmPYn4d8pX9tK1dB9oq3s/s200/PICT0017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255330117930425826" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJeQPB3QuXLIE5puVLh82GjTeeWUq_tTNWzKdscK8D0MNYX9w-EK_aqKko6RqAqnYJEeOYQKItGVPZpqIVX8ApFPdaq9cjFSkTfYvcawQaYIY7PIbYRGa4We8Pg95dhA7Y7gcesqzm0M/s1600-h/PICT0103.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJeQPB3QuXLIE5puVLh82GjTeeWUq_tTNWzKdscK8D0MNYX9w-EK_aqKko6RqAqnYJEeOYQKItGVPZpqIVX8ApFPdaq9cjFSkTfYvcawQaYIY7PIbYRGa4We8Pg95dhA7Y7gcesqzm0M/s200/PICT0103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255331966987215490" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKN8_WTQDpljiorkKihoxj2D-4g8hdIVQSrDcQcW6Yax-3vuL7wnLJwds96ku6cPVq7u7KBuqoHQ52yb5HtaTuapRjdkW2_vKmBLaWMwtCzemfJ8k4ZQmO6d_za2AAKDxRiwOB-y795Gc/s1600-h/PICT0035.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKN8_WTQDpljiorkKihoxj2D-4g8hdIVQSrDcQcW6Yax-3vuL7wnLJwds96ku6cPVq7u7KBuqoHQ52yb5HtaTuapRjdkW2_vKmBLaWMwtCzemfJ8k4ZQmO6d_za2AAKDxRiwOB-y795Gc/s200/PICT0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255330963516606322" border="0" /></a>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-60955039940500342402008-10-06T20:02:00.000-07:002008-10-25T18:54:03.577-07:00My Trip<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ztbOsPxekGIoxapxVwoeLLAB-Q9Wji5udrcMxhZRcsjdOSWGZVdy2olc6WA0Unt94JKwPBLRSwFAx0CKe3cQX1YQfAS-BrnqUKWx9Cyo8NtT04aggr_xsvPo1Qi8KDhfFqlMGm8tSwg/s1600-h/PICT0273.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ztbOsPxekGIoxapxVwoeLLAB-Q9Wji5udrcMxhZRcsjdOSWGZVdy2olc6WA0Unt94JKwPBLRSwFAx0CKe3cQX1YQfAS-BrnqUKWx9Cyo8NtT04aggr_xsvPo1Qi8KDhfFqlMGm8tSwg/s200/PICT0273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255275843303429634" border="0" /></a><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index </span></a><br />As my trip is closing, I am filled with many thoughts. I had heard many stories of old, which is very fascinating to me. I hope to keep them in my memory bank which I will access and blog as I have time.<br /><br />I have never imagined that I would spend this much time writing. If I did not write I could not possibly keep all the things that has passed through my mind, and all the memories from my childhood that has surfaced. I am glad I had this opportunity. I also discovered where lot of my tendencies, drives, and intense needs came from. For Koreans, certain traits must be in their DNA. In the women I encountered, I saw myself, much more so than in American women I have spent most of my life with.<br /><br />I am so grateful that my mother was able to experience Korea and revisit her past with her siblings. I have never seen her laugh like I have seen her laugh here with her siblings. I have seen her become a young girl taken care of by her older sister. She actually acts like a little sister. My aunt Won Suk used to take care of mother and do all the cooking while they were in DaeGu living away from home to go to school. Mother tells me that she won't be coming back again. All her desire and dream to revisit Korea and siblings have been full filled. She is too old to do this much traveling again. She is so glad that her children pressed her to come but her home is where her children and grandchildren are.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-27971980693658421402008-10-06T19:39:00.000-07:002008-10-25T18:55:58.626-07:00JeJu Island<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jUxNNaNsjlPqZFka1-M6WTW64lSElbjiQAaa2rjdU6ZdH8bkmLrIuGE54gla-Tj52A74-riexHDFllxswBtrNkMAu0TuAVV380LPNjPwrIQ_A8n2MhhH69Ym5s3BkREEhLr6dSCnSag/s1600-h/PICT0269.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jUxNNaNsjlPqZFka1-M6WTW64lSElbjiQAaa2rjdU6ZdH8bkmLrIuGE54gla-Tj52A74-riexHDFllxswBtrNkMAu0TuAVV380LPNjPwrIQ_A8n2MhhH69Ym5s3BkREEhLr6dSCnSag/s200/PICT0269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255277048598658450" border="0" /></a><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a><br />JeJu Island was land of imagination in my childhood. I had heard that that island was filled with trees that we did not see on the main land. I heard that it was warm all the time. There were ocean maids who dived into deep ocean to bring rare ocean plants and delicacies that can only be found at the bottom of the deep. I heard that the beauty of the island could not be matched.<br /><br />My cousin Yeon- Choon took us there. From BuSan I expected to get on a small plane for one hour trip. To my surprise, we got on jets with six passengers per row. I did not see any empty seats. Even more amazing was such planes left about every half hour all day everyday.<br /><br />Once we landed I realized the palm trees filled the island as well as pine trees that grows uniquely to the island. I used to think that they were artificially twisted in form. When I saw whole forest of them, then I realized this was natural in form. Like main land the little island had many mountains.<br /><br />Yeon-Choon took us to places of breathtaking scenery. It has<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_z_gUTuqEOEm0ii2JnHsRTYKSgpbWhbVBb1QhrUIQRAOeZx7O_kJvX4GJ0kF-_ivJWT_MY2ICIUWW_jRR75X5WGEE7jk1GWRlVlTgk6cuEBG0hPrUdtvePk_HNwi1rwPQK48CqgEowJQ/s1600-h/PICT0140.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_z_gUTuqEOEm0ii2JnHsRTYKSgpbWhbVBb1QhrUIQRAOeZx7O_kJvX4GJ0kF-_ivJWT_MY2ICIUWW_jRR75X5WGEE7jk1GWRlVlTgk6cuEBG0hPrUdtvePk_HNwi1rwPQK48CqgEowJQ/s200/PICT0140.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255277437182212290" border="0" /></a> become vacationers haven of Asia. Although I preferred to be a beautiful hidden island known only by few, I have to say I am glad that so many are enjoying such beauty. I am told Chinese, and Japanese loves to vacation here.<br /><br />Just yesterday, I actually saw an ocean maid. She would gather a basket-ful of ocean delicacies that foreigners could not imagine eating, then in the afternoon she would sell them in the market. In my imagination such maids were beautiful young girls, like fairies. I was brought back to reality that these were hard working women with weathered face from being in harsh salt water so much. This was their life and living.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-50384525632860448192008-10-06T01:16:00.000-07:002008-10-25T18:56:55.618-07:00Rainy Sunday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCulCz2yjnakdYEDgrBCB7AhIbt6gdlrwvdrFHD5sZtpqLt0bT9kwGt4s9UGeKi7cIBz-90NTspSgdnAcHSeQSByyB3CzpTG8nl0Z1423o6EtmgGDTFbXGnNF0TDEZoIZ_CoiYc64nl8g/s1600-h/PICT0205.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCulCz2yjnakdYEDgrBCB7AhIbt6gdlrwvdrFHD5sZtpqLt0bT9kwGt4s9UGeKi7cIBz-90NTspSgdnAcHSeQSByyB3CzpTG8nl0Z1423o6EtmgGDTFbXGnNF0TDEZoIZ_CoiYc64nl8g/s200/PICT0205.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255279563434184002" border="0" /></a><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a><br />On our second day on Jeju island there were dark clouds and soon started to rain. I love rain whether I am at home or on vacation. To me watching heavy rain has cleansing effect for my soul. Everything seems fresh and clean.<br /><br />We sat around the dining table at our rented condo and so many stories came. Here are two.<br /><br />Some one mentioned that my cousin Yeon-Choon must really miss his wife. She is in Australia with their daughter, age 12 for life experience in foreign land. He started to speak about his wife and how much he appreciates her. He spoke of Sung-Ho(his son). At early age they discovered that he had autistic tendencies. Korea will uphold the best and brightest students but there were no program for special needs children back then. Sung-Ho had social difficulties so he did not have friends. His wife would gather children and bring them home for Sung-Ho to play. She then took his special education needs in her own hands. She would bring home volumes of books from library for such children and read them from cover to cover then start the therapy. Then she felt to take him to England in a town where excellent school was for such children. Sung-Ho opened up and started to blossom. He began to develop friends and learned English quickly. Today he is freshman in law school. He had no problem socializing. In fact we must have talked for about an hour.<br /><br />Red Soldiers (North Korean soldiers)<br /><br />This was during the war. While they were having ancestor's ceremony with table full of prepared foods, red guards marched in. One of the guards pointing his gun and called my grandfather to the court yard. He demanded money and food for his soldiers. My grandfather showed him the grain storage. He also pointed to the cattle & livestock he owned. He said, "Take everything you need. But leave us alone."<br />This was a time when red soldiers came, rampaged homes for food and goods, and often would take the owners and killed them. The human lives could vanish like a vapor. My grandmother was bringing dinner tray for my grandfather. She was so frightened she dropped the tray. My aunt was a young girl. She knew enough to not show her face. Young girls were kidnapped by red soldiers to be never seen again. She was curious enough that she peeked out of the small opening of the door and witnessed everything. The soldiers said cattle and rice is no good for us. I will give you 2 days to turn it into cash then give it to me. I will be back. South Korean police could punish even to death any one who helped North Korean soldiers. My grandfather could be threatened from both ends. None of the neighbors told the police that North Korean soldiers came into my grandfather's home and took things. The neighbors knew to protect my grandfather. He has always provided for neighbors by his generosity.<br /><br />Within those 2 days, the whole family moved to another home in DaeGu. When the North Koreans were pushed back, they returned home.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-22879954945884871992008-10-05T00:53:00.000-07:002008-10-25T18:58:17.092-07:00Cab Drivers<a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a><br />We had so much fun talking to cabbies. It is here you can hear how people live and work. Also they are the first to experience the change in the trends of age.<br /><br />Cabbie #1: At one time he was in a corporate world traveling to US frequently. Then came a forced early retirement. At his age (probably late 50s or early 60s) no jobs were available to him. He became a cabbie. As a person who demanded respect and deep bowing from others, suddenly he was at a servant level. Even young person talked to him with no respect. He began to see the world from another angle. He grieves for young of today who has lost the traditional respect for elders. He is so glad that he was able to send his children to school while he had good income. He is planning on writing a book.<br /><br />Cabbie #2: Regarding economy for cabbies, he said, "We live to die.There is no money to be earned. Whether I work or not, after paying for fuel there is nothing left. Look at Choi, Jin Suk a well known actress. She committed suicide. Whether you have money all not, we all live to die." My mother and aunt were shocked. She was adored by many.<br /><br />Cabbie #3: He picked up five of us. My uncle Sang-Jeng, his wife, my aunt Won-Suk, my mother and I. He said "If police catches me, I am done for. Fine is $400 US. (There is cab limit of only four passengers.)" My little aunt said, "Tell me when you see police so I could slide down." We laughed so hard. My aunt said."We are showing our sister and her daughter Korea after 42 years." He looked at four elderly and one middle aged(me). He said, "Time is changing. In my company we have one 84 years old cabbie."JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-66261393381331529502008-10-03T04:52:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:00:44.174-07:00Ocean and Mega Fish Outlet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiov2CIp98c0UrNn8EYtkjQgSOmsKJ5DmTxKZ2McUEamWAO0zVXccQxn4p97Wd4VRO508Ap85olG7Py4iQdIl_f1SW-IAUf5bvLDMgFfnF8s0hWtKVEZxGm6MO2HL0DlWLtHGEqUdb-SQg/s1600-h/PICT0273.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiov2CIp98c0UrNn8EYtkjQgSOmsKJ5DmTxKZ2McUEamWAO0zVXccQxn4p97Wd4VRO508Ap85olG7Py4iQdIl_f1SW-IAUf5bvLDMgFfnF8s0hWtKVEZxGm6MO2HL0DlWLtHGEqUdb-SQg/s200/PICT0273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255280118405047778" border="0" /></a><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a><br />Today my uncle (mother's brother) and his wife took us to one of the most spectacular scenery. A beautiful mountain sloping down into the vast ocean. I have always loved mountains and water. Here was a place where both met. The ocean has calming effect on me. The serenity of sparkling water as it stretches beyond the reach of my eyes, is indescribable.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoqu4YUDFyyHwjTMmtyzW7N9AK2Puunfwz4CLmzpussuoMg7-3RQ0xW0wOyYNaV-dTVxuh8uJEZZO60VtEDBw-vxGfMR1pqLEQOYXpqeOdIcU7Rwf7lfKheWL5vAgFG5ozyHncc0wS9g/s1600-h/PICT0165.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoqu4YUDFyyHwjTMmtyzW7N9AK2Puunfwz4CLmzpussuoMg7-3RQ0xW0wOyYNaV-dTVxuh8uJEZZO60VtEDBw-vxGfMR1pqLEQOYXpqeOdIcU7Rwf7lfKheWL5vAgFG5ozyHncc0wS9g/s200/PICT0165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255280432149148546" border="0" /></a>We then went to fish outlet. There were more fish venders than you could count. Fish were sold from the tank, still swimming as well as freshly caught fish, octopus, crabs, shrimp, and so many more that I could not even name. Many little vendors had a few tables in the back. You would choose which fish you wanted to eat. They would cook it right there for you.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-35100383219187339752008-10-02T19:15:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:01:29.490-07:00Special Young People<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU2cZG2IMdHS1QGadyjEcm6snQQqagS0w7WYsFiZIhUx_oB-QnK5gQDMN9wnWmD0nhShYNOYeXqoo-qYGx272jnrdzbaW_jKI1CTKZkgbu75Ajd0xMrCk9POFdzAbjMnHXKuqbL8BHEyw/s1600-h/DSC01044(3887).jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU2cZG2IMdHS1QGadyjEcm6snQQqagS0w7WYsFiZIhUx_oB-QnK5gQDMN9wnWmD0nhShYNOYeXqoo-qYGx272jnrdzbaW_jKI1CTKZkgbu75Ajd0xMrCk9POFdzAbjMnHXKuqbL8BHEyw/s200/DSC01044(3887).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255284841103751522" border="0" /></a><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a><br />Soo-Yeun is my cousin’s (Moon Hi’s) daughter. She is twenty-six years old, the same age is my daughter Henna. We have bonded. The two of us have gone downtown together. I hug her like I would hug my own daughter. She has graduated from the University of Seoul. This is the university that every Korean child aspires to attend. Not every valedictorian throughout Korea who applies will be accepted. Soo-Yeun has won many awards in a school system where there may be three awards out of many thousands of students. Now she has a job that is sought by the most ambitious of men yet impossible to get. Her parents plan their whole future around her. I consider how much I wanted to achieve so much success for my parents, yet here is a person who actually did that.<br /><br />I appreciate Soo-Yeun not for her many accomplishments but for her sincerity and genuineness. I told her of my daughter Henna, who has traveled and lived in Europe as an au pair and now is pursuing her college education. Soo-Yeun longed for that kind of freedom. She is bound by success and duty for the happiness of her parents, who have given up their lives for her. It is rather odd. At age fifty-three, I can relate more with her inner struggles than with my generation, my cousins, who think more like my parents did and still do.<br /><br /><br />Sung-Ho is the son of my cousin Yeon-Choon (my aunt’s second son). He has just been accepted by a prestigious school. There has been much excitement and celebration about him by the family, especially the older generation. (Amazingly, I am considered part of the older generation.) As I walk with him through downtown Seoul, he speaks to me of the government and economy of the US, South Korea, North Korea, and other parts of the world. He tells me that South Korea has grown too fast. This creates a lack of depth and of proper development of the culture. As I consider his words, I am struck by the fact that the beautiful architecture I’ve appreciated in major US cities is missing here. He tells me that he supports Barak Obama. Because he does not trust Korean journalism concerning foreign affairs, he reads <span style="font-style: italic;">The Economist,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">The New York Times</span>, and other publications on the internet. He reminds me so much of my son Seth. When he learned that Seth left school for about a year to reevaluate his goals and to find a job in New York before applying to another university, Sung-Ho envied that kind of freedom which is not possible in Korean culture.<br /><br />In a culture where parents boast of their children's accomplishments are supreme, my only boast is my love for my children.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-46745313049638290732008-10-02T15:43:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:02:07.593-07:00To Be Blessed<a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a><br />Yesterday my aunt, mother, and I arrived in BuSan. This is the home of my mother. It is where my story began with my mother meeting my father. The hustle and bustle of the city, the eight-lane highway—nothing even remotely resembles the stories of my mother's life.<br /><br /><div>The train we traveled on weaved its way through the mountains, around hills and valleys, into the city, and gently landed us in the midst of a massive crowd where I was afraid we might lose each other. As we exited, I saw my uncle, who once was the precious child that would continue my grandfather’s massive estate, farm, and orchards. I remembered his face. He was the only relative of my mother’s I saw much as a child. We had left him and his new bride 42 years ago. Today I saw a frail old man and his wife. He has delicate health, and his wife has suffered much illness for the last 30 years.<br /></div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2g4EAjWNs8TusPw8rhEHtJUkyp9AA8n6va9kdw2GzRM3Kk6gMnDBqy1vzM9BRSBn5IkJ2aaf7iJ6uwFdIofD5lo2fxFsooCBR52p5A8C5TxlPEw87YKMp9GOyNbDbE8u-XwQkFmf8DdM/s1600-h/PICT0274.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2g4EAjWNs8TusPw8rhEHtJUkyp9AA8n6va9kdw2GzRM3Kk6gMnDBqy1vzM9BRSBn5IkJ2aaf7iJ6uwFdIofD5lo2fxFsooCBR52p5A8C5TxlPEw87YKMp9GOyNbDbE8u-XwQkFmf8DdM/s200/PICT0274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255289859694827474" border="0" /></a>So many years ago, my grandfather left a will to his three sons. My oldest uncle, my mother’s brother, inherited the most and best. The remainder was split between my two uncles from the second grandmother. My uncle, Sang Jeng, was a son that any parent would be proud of. He was sent to the best schools and excelled beyond all expectation. He also exhibits high human virtue and dignity. He became a professor, much respected and revered. He lived humbly when he did not have to. After retiring from his professorship, he wanted to continue his teaching career by starting a school to educate and train so many hopeful students to help them enter esteemed universities, land difficult-to-get jobs, and to fulfill dreams and hopes outside of formal school institutions. It was a big project requiring massive amounts of investment and support personnel. He found a business manager who was capable of creating and handling the project by seeking experts. My Uncle Sang-Jeng was the investor and to be one of many instructors. Fifteen years ago, my uncle experienced what every investor fears. The manager he hired took all of his investment and disappeared from the face of the earth. My uncle had sold everything for this dream. He was left with nothing. My aunts tell me that if he had done nothing, the land he owned would have made him wealthy beyond imagination in land-hungry Korea.<br /></div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCiQOZKEdhJzLo84lVCS_7Aw1w_e83rQPPlnlxz7wAFsqCsVy3QHvorIEQ5aoHEpNBSgMZqqak0svSVqDRELPwWYhEXLuw7P0PGXsHh6iKx8XZsdyyH506l8kus1VNQN-zaUnoEozdtc/s1600-h/PICT0173.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCiQOZKEdhJzLo84lVCS_7Aw1w_e83rQPPlnlxz7wAFsqCsVy3QHvorIEQ5aoHEpNBSgMZqqak0svSVqDRELPwWYhEXLuw7P0PGXsHh6iKx8XZsdyyH506l8kus1VNQN-zaUnoEozdtc/s200/PICT0173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255327536325945122" border="0" /></a>We came to his home. He is living with his son, his son’s wife, and their three young children. The home is humble, yet I saw something so precious. His daughter-in-law serves him and his wife with an attentiveness and care that is rare in today’s Korea (my aunt Won-Suk tells me there is no daughter-in-law like what she sees in my uncle Sang-Jeng's daughter in law.) My uncle and aunt love their grandchildren as only grandparents can. Little Jun-Ho, their five-year-old grandson, eats, sleeps, and plays with his grandmother and grandfather. Life must be hard for the young wife serving and caring for this family of seven. In Korea, how you care for parents r<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-cBoUMxQVN_F7X3cIVvltYpFKJLHK7wBGIfZv42KS59JZQRDKjUm7zQ4i3t1QFU7mpR-XM9A_AQuQl4nmwZuDdjgBFw3KjMy-RC1R-K8zUI2CMHG40r2REbDxQDI6yCQeOrO1UZA9hs/s1600-h/PICT0171.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-cBoUMxQVN_F7X3cIVvltYpFKJLHK7wBGIfZv42KS59JZQRDKjUm7zQ4i3t1QFU7mpR-XM9A_AQuQl4nmwZuDdjgBFw3KjMy-RC1R-K8zUI2CMHG40r2REbDxQDI6yCQeOrO1UZA9hs/s200/PICT0171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255327996412929170" border="0" /></a>equires much attentiveness, respect, and reverence which I am told is lost in today’s modern age. Yet my uncle and aunt are experiencing what has been lost.<br /></div><br /><div>I offered my help to the young wife, but in accordance with tradition, she would not allow me to help her. I told her, “In America, guests help out.” With much reluctance, she allowed me to wash the dishes.</div>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-74172861428401484852008-10-02T03:59:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:03:23.992-07:00Wives<a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a><br />My aunt, my mother’s older sister, has three sons and one daughter. Each son is successful in his own right—a company executive, a university professor, and a businessman. Her son-in-law, when squeezed out of the corporate world due to the economy, started up a small delivery service.<br /><br />In each of their wives, I see some characteristic that is so familiar.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Daughter:</span> My cousin Moon-Hi is a stay-at-home mom and homemaker. She has delicate health. When Soo-Yeon, her daughter, was accepted at Seoul University (more difficult to get into than climbing a ladder to the moon), Moon-Hi and her husband sold their country home and moved to Seoul. They are willing to go through any difficulties when necessary to bring about a better future for their children. This is such a common and pervasive practice in Korea.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Daughter-in-law #1:</span> She is a fashionable lady who wears high heels & carries a parasol. She likes to travel.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Daughter-in-law #2:</span> She is in Austalia now. She has invested her husband’s income well. She bought and sold homes and invested and amassed quite a bit of wealth for her family. Her main concern for her family is the education of her children. She is in Australia for a year or two with her twelve-year-old daughter to give her a foreign life and language experience. She wanted to give her the same experience that her son had when he was young.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Daughter-in-law #3:</span> She is as industrious as can be. While her husband manages their several stores, employees, and product selection, she is in charge of a large fast-food restaurant. While she is hosting us, taking us to famous sites, she is on the phone managing the evening social function where they feel lost without her. Yet she is able to be home in the evenings for her children (ages nine and thirteen) who come home after 6 pm. It is amazing that she could be so engaged with us yet maintain order for those who rely on her. She lives nearest to my Aunt, so she is always available to meet her mother-in-law’s needs.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-67006455261152914112008-09-30T05:46:00.000-07:002008-10-26T15:25:07.300-07:00The Way I Remembered<span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><br />Today I took a bullet train from Seoul to DaeGu. What would take five to six hours by car on a superhighway took only ninety minutes. That in itself was an experience. Yet as I watched the scenery, I was brought back in time. So many years ago, I remember traveling to my grandfather’s estate for his sixtieth birthday celebration. The scenery was as breathtaking to me then as it is today. The mountains—oh, how I love them!<br /><br />“What is Korea like?” would be a common question. I would say, “You stand anywhere, turn in any direction, and you see mountains.”<br /><br />There is something about mountains that I love. The majesty of the elevated forest stretching to the sky then reaching down to embrace those below with beauty and comfort. Mountains fill me with awe.<br /><br />The old trains have been replaced by high-speed trains that I have only seen on TV. Looking out the window brings back memories of a time gone by. The same beautiful mountains are still here. We come out from a tunnel to see a beautiful valley whose sides rise to form mountains. We twist and turn around small mountains then enter another tunnel through the large mountains.<br /><br />As we come near to a city, suddenly there are high-rises. There are so many of them, all looking the same. It feels like we have time traveled to another world, as if we are in some science fiction novel.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-38025949197803764182008-09-29T04:17:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:05:33.737-07:00Gyeongbok Palace<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzYvKG21w3jv8AI0YnWWosVE1jnedwVNlSINvAkeDQVDApv5dDg2OtkCJAuc_Bh69P-_xpzMJwSc6nlIIBVyNg51gORFfaRcLrR4paL5b4O2AwxQquG6GtD2UTLzaHclF28NHmupEoQ4/s1600-h/PICT0039.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252737489202186594" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 229px; height: 171px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzYvKG21w3jv8AI0YnWWosVE1jnedwVNlSINvAkeDQVDApv5dDg2OtkCJAuc_Bh69P-_xpzMJwSc6nlIIBVyNg51gORFfaRcLrR4paL5b4O2AwxQquG6GtD2UTLzaHclF28NHmupEoQ4/s320/PICT0039.jpg" border="0" /></a><span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:85%;" >Gyeongbok Palace was built as the primary palace of the Chosun Kingdom by its founder, King Taejo, in 1395, the fourth year of his reign. It was destroyed during the Japanese invasion of 1592 and left in ruins for over 250 years. Starting in 1865, it was rebuilt to its original grandeur. When Korea was annexed by Japan in 1910, most of the 200 buildings on the palace grounds were torn down by the Japanese, leaving only a dozen structures. Since 1996, Korea has been actively restoring the palace to its original grandeur.</span><br /><div><div><div><br />It is a bright, sunny morning in 1966. A young mother and her three small children have packed a picnic lunch and come here. The young mother brings her children here often, for it was a pleasant place to have a picnic. Her ten-year-old daughter had learned that this was a throne room for some king or other. Yet it looks worn. The colors are fading. Other than it being a large room, there is not too much to look at. I remember thinking, “What is so s<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yiWgJxCbXz6D-9E8ZkBXauZ-BlfsHgXvJntZ7Ot2vi4ag6Wy0VqwojR_z8FzWwDSjU297rMJLt6183KA5_9fBR-i82OrAtj41YcA46cOzsvPPyh0uHRuX0LO55QO_z_hsXEDnnY7seo/s1600-h/PICT0038.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252729824898964818" style="margin: 10px; float: right; width: 234px; height: 175px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yiWgJxCbXz6D-9E8ZkBXauZ-BlfsHgXvJntZ7Ot2vi4ag6Wy0VqwojR_z8FzWwDSjU297rMJLt6183KA5_9fBR-i82OrAtj41YcA46cOzsvPPyh0uHRuX0LO55QO_z_hsXEDnnY7seo/s320/PICT0038.jpg" border="0" /></a>pecial about this room?”<br /><p>I am visiting it again today, September 28, 2008. A beautiful wall encloses the Royal Gyeongbok Palace. As I enter its courtyard, I see in front of me the royal throne room. This is one building that I remember from so many years ago. The courtyard that leads into the throne room is large and so beautifully restored. All the important officials would be lined up, creating a human wall on either side. There would be hundreds of officials, with the most important persons nearer to the king. The six most highly esteemed scribes would be directly before the king. This is where all the political affairs of the kingdom took place.<br /></p><p>Behind the throne room, through a majestic gate, is the King’s residence. We are allowed to go in, take pictures, and then exit through the back door, passing through another gate to the queen’s residence. Behind the queen’s residence, through yet another gate, is the royal residence of princes and princesses. My imagination runs freely to those romantic times of royalty with beautiful scenes of pomp and circumstance. I commented, “I don’t see a kitchen in these magnificent buildings.”<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-9a2V8WAulBfcAEnDN1zbZI_Yad4y8yhSVcdrGsH8e91vgU5UD6eXTgbB1l9_CzttbmQS7nOkMRqeQC_gtbN1DCpLk0fqTxVle4OYiKF91XqwvELt2O6Db-yweWFN4R_BPZV0l_nPQA/s1600-h/PICT0036.jpg"></a></p>We are just in time for the Royal Archery Competition. We watch the reenactment of this important event. All the notorious archers from the land would come in their formal robes and demonstrate their skill before the king. The whole event is explained in Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and English.</div></div></div>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-41542527313829137092008-09-29T02:54:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:06:19.447-07:00Downtown<span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><br />This morning Soo-Yeon, the daughter of my cousin Moon Hi, and I went downtown on the subway. Soo-Yeon is 26 years old like my daughter. When I talk to her, I think of Henna and love her. I tell her about my daughter and say that she will love her third cousin and that they must meet.<br /><br />By now, seeing all the skyscrapers is quite normal to me. The bustle of downtown is much like downtown Chicago. I left Korea in the poverty of the post war period, and I am coming back to a mo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkgzqvU-8xiJLlhff6mMfWSTuWu8FiWiLup_k2W7S8Q9seN5GFO7kk1in-buk03sHA8lADEwFpM1C3CiCFAtkJq74xyYc1E3do1O6nj_nILKpmyeekO2_30OhVZEnCdeqJ0B4mipsuM8/s1600-h/PICT0028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkgzqvU-8xiJLlhff6mMfWSTuWu8FiWiLup_k2W7S8Q9seN5GFO7kk1in-buk03sHA8lADEwFpM1C3CiCFAtkJq74xyYc1E3do1O6nj_nILKpmyeekO2_30OhVZEnCdeqJ0B4mipsuM8/s200/PICT0028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255232640273942162" border="0" /></a>dern and well-developed country. We went to the most popular book store, and once again I was amazed at the vast size of the store. I have not seen any store this size nor such a massive crowd buying books. There are so many people on benches reading. I picked up a few books for memory’s sake.<br /><br />I come to Chun Jin Dong, the neighborhood that I grew up in. How can it be? This is now the center of downtown, the financial district, where each skyscraper is a bank or investment building. There are so many cars—where could they all be going on a Sunday?<br /><br />In my mind, I could still see those small homes with high walls. I could see the dusty roads which are not paved. I could see my brother and a dozen other small boys playing in the street where there is no real need to watch out for cars...the only vehicle that drives by once in a while is a US Army jeep. Then I see the young boys covered in dust running after the jeep. Sometimes the soldiers would stop and give the boys rides, and there are laughter and squeals of joy.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-63420142780172154452008-09-29T01:52:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:06:40.221-07:00Fly on the Wall<span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><br />I love being like a fly on the wall. My aunt, my mother, and I are sharing a room at my cousin’s house at Seoul. Each morning when we wake up, they start talking and sometimes continue for hours. They speak of their youth, family, and life under Japanese occupation. I am transported into another time, another world—the world of my mother's childhood.<br /><br />As they speak of their mother, I feel the tenderness. Tears well up in their eyes. I have heard some things I never knew about my grandmother, Lady Park. She was the wife of a wealthy village lord. My grandfather, Master Park, owned all the land. The village economy was the farming of his land or working for his estate.<br /><br />Lady Park had six daughters, and my mother was the last one. After Lady Park gave birth to my mother, her mother-in-law started to put pressure on Master Park to look for a second wife. After one year of her incessant speaking, Master Park finally buckled under to his mother’s need for an heir. Lady Park started to prepare for another wife for her husband. She started to make her husband’s wedding garment.<br /><br />My aunt and mother spoke of the pain and agony their mother must have gone through. Lady Park began to write. At a time when most men could not read, she wrote poems and essays which eventually filled two volumes. My aunt and mother never saw them.<br /><br />My aunt and mother spoke of how fortunate their mother was to have borne a son two years after the birth of my mother. As the oldest boy, he would inherit half of my grandfather’s estate. The younger sons, children of the second wife, would share the other half.<br /><br />The second wife was a frightened young seventeen year old. Her parents had given her in marriage to Master Park in exchange for a plot of farm land. She felt so betrayed that she never visited her family again. When she came into this large household, she would embrace a young toddler, my aunt at age two. She would love this girl. This was an outlet and comfort to her as she tried to fit into this large house. She remained in the background until my grandmother passed away prematurely eleven years later. Then she became the new Lady Park. Yet she would go through life watching her own children struggle academically in a home where education was so highly esteemed and where the first Lady Park’s children excelled.<br /><br />I will see my uncle in a few days. He is the one for whom my grandfather had waited so long. He is the one who took away the life-long reproach of my grandmother. He was the apple of his parents’ eyes, the prince of the village.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-9250185596000038812008-09-28T02:27:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:07:03.302-07:00The Chungae River<div></div><span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><br />We walked along the Chungae river, which runs through the midst of downtown Seoul’s. Down the steps to the river walk we went. The stroll under the beautiful soft lights along the river, with the sweet sound of flowing water beckons young lovers to be lost in their love.<br /><br /><div>I have no recollection of this river from my early years in this city. My mother remembers Chungae River all too well. She remembers it as a dirty river with poor peasant merchants swarming along it with their meager supply of fresh goods for sale. </div>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-1971792935970972622008-09-27T07:18:00.000-07:002008-10-26T15:18:28.255-07:00Meeting Cousins<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4drSjvgEW7jO6uG0yuTFtQf2NogC4BI0XySeiUVrIxYdv8PRkPaHIn0-sYTFYag1mqNKzqU_x4iuat4gs4rnJJUTHlf6S6dAb7eZ0dnkOxoq-_yeELUJqyvyxXBhRF84ublOrmSsdeS8/s1600-h/PICT0016.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250906229070533698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 259px; height: 195px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4drSjvgEW7jO6uG0yuTFtQf2NogC4BI0XySeiUVrIxYdv8PRkPaHIn0-sYTFYag1mqNKzqU_x4iuat4gs4rnJJUTHlf6S6dAb7eZ0dnkOxoq-_yeELUJqyvyxXBhRF84ublOrmSsdeS8/s320/PICT0016.JPG" border="0" /></a><span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><br />This afternoon my cousin Suk-Hyun and her husband took us out to lunch. Suk-Hyun was one year old when I left Korea (I was eleven). It is said that I used to adore my little cousin. She tells me I look so young. Her husband says I look younger than her.<br /><div><div><div><br />I experienced Korean food I had not tasted before—lettuce wrap with roasted duck and vegetables.<br /><br />I am one of the older relatives of my generation. They have different names for me depending on where they are in relation to me. My third cousin (daughter of my cousin) calls me Imo (Aunt). My cousins call me Unni (older sister). They tell me that I need to drop the formal language that is used for elders. Trying to remember that makes me a bit uncomfortable and I tend to forget.<br /><br />In the evening, my cousin, In-Hong, treated us to dinner—again a new taste. I walked up to the room only to be turned away by the waiter. OOPS! ...I had to go back and take off my shoes. We then sat on the floor with our legs crossed. The dinner was somewhat like bibimbop but very different.<br /><br />The clothes I brought for this trip are too formal. Women here dress very casually, like jeans and a shirt, but men wear suits. I don’t understand that.</div></div></div>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-36118658387387942202008-09-26T06:05:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:07:49.311-07:00Greetings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbA-CO4HGyELnHmvmPRNx4nfL82QBv2kFYYM9xocy4IVOp_XxSypkrnFUrct4Ic_DcKj70r9yupM9Q5x0u06OgCP4T8OO6imh3gc8qDrbyWBPH-ck4zlJLkPNhUELGF3HquBUBkaXHPY/s1600-h/PICT0006.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250905050071144802" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbA-CO4HGyELnHmvmPRNx4nfL82QBv2kFYYM9xocy4IVOp_XxSypkrnFUrct4Ic_DcKj70r9yupM9Q5x0u06OgCP4T8OO6imh3gc8qDrbyWBPH-ck4zlJLkPNhUELGF3HquBUBkaXHPY/s320/PICT0006.JPG" border="0" /></a><span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><div>I can't believe that I am in Korea now. As we came out of customs, we saw the receiving crowd. When one old lady saw us, she began waving at us and running toward us. My aunt had been waiting for an older woman and daughter, and we fit that picture. We approached each other. Soon my mother and her realized they were long unseen sisters separated since age 30 & 32 meeting for the first time in 42 years. My mother said, “Unni (older sister), why are you so old?” She responded, “You call me old. Look at yourself. When did YOU get so old?” They laughed and hugged and could not be separated. Of course, I had no recollection of my aunt, but she recognized me and told me that I still looked like the JaeHi of my childhood.<br /><br />I was not prepared for such a grand airport (Inchun/Seoul), much like Chicago’s O’Hare with all the modern glitz and conveniences and marble floor. It seemed like we had to walk forever to get to our destination. It is only 5 years old. Silly me...my memory holds postwar Korea with not even pavements.<br /><br />From the airport, we passed through Seoul. It seemed like we were in the midst of downtown for about an hour to my cousin's home. Seoul seems much larger than Chicago with all its highrise towers. I also was not prepared to see so many new cars, creating traffic jams on ten-lane highways, similar to I-90/94 that goes through downtown Chicago. Amazing.<br /><br />My cousin was five years old when I left to come to the US. Now she has grown children like myself, and of course, neither of us remembered each other.<br /><br />Tomorrow I am to meet so many more relatives. They will show me Seoul. We are to visit a different city every few days until it is time for me to come back home. I will try to post updates in this blog. I still have to figure out all the picture entry and electrical conversion.</div>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-68973276177543567302008-09-26T05:51:00.000-07:002008-10-25T19:08:12.482-07:00Flight to Korea<span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><br />The jumbo jet was filled. We were greeted by young Korean stewardesses, each one beautiful, young, tall, slender, with perfect skin...and very dainty. It is obvious that Korea or Korean Air Line does not have a nondiscrimination hiring policy. They pampered us with Bi Bim Bop and wine.<br /><br />It felt rather awkward to be served by such a group of hand-selected, attractive women. The service was superb.<br /><br />Forty-two years ago, when we were America bound on Northwest Airlines, I encountered beautiful ladies who served us. I stared at them. They were so foreign and so beautiful. They pampered us with exotic foods like steaks, potatoes, and ice cream.JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-51587462238255811402008-09-23T20:55:00.001-07:002008-10-25T19:08:34.094-07:00Get Ready<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ1zGg5eBm6vi0KPjcVpafUcNdZeqAnXKNu2Q5VQyWta7H74A_S_r0UThMo9_QBXXOGmRjxc50D7IrFB1xIw05ToApCMO2ByZtXvgYKIRP0AIqgvtxWlzKnWQtwQmoerz1Ur9Rhk34hvg/s1600-h/PICT0004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250905518932669826" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 204px; height: 153px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ1zGg5eBm6vi0KPjcVpafUcNdZeqAnXKNu2Q5VQyWta7H74A_S_r0UThMo9_QBXXOGmRjxc50D7IrFB1xIw05ToApCMO2ByZtXvgYKIRP0AIqgvtxWlzKnWQtwQmoerz1Ur9Rhk34hvg/s320/PICT0004.JPG" border="0" /></a><span><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/index-return-of-natives.html"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Index</span></a></span><div>As I am packing, I am wondering what is appropriate to pack. Black, which is so popular here, may not be appropriate, for it means mourning. Or is it white that represents mourning? Red is out for someone my age. It is too vibrant. Is yellow OK? It may be considered too young. What about green... Oh, I don't know. I have always dressed very conservatively, yet I am wondering if I will offend anyone of the older generation.<br /><br />I will be immersed with my mother's generation as well as their grown children and younger generation. I have not learned the social behavior of the Korean culture. As a middle-aged woman, I am to behave reverently to the elder generation and to act appropriately to the younger generation, and yet another way with children.<br /><br />When I was in middle school, I remember I sent my grandfather a picture of me smiling, bright and happy. He was offended. A person must be serious and weighty. It must show in photos. Such a happy face indicated a lack of dignity and integrity. I wonder why my parents did not filter this.<br /><br />There are seven different ways of speaking (which I just learned recently) as you encounter people of different age groups and different familiarity. I wonder, as a person who is somewhat ignorant of this, how I shall fare on this visit. Some time ago, in my local church in Chicago, I remember meeting several college students who were native Koreans. I spoke to them in Korean. They all smiled meekly. I knew there was something going on that I was not aware of. My Korean friend, who was very close to me and was teaching me Korean, told me, “You were talking to them as if they were your senior. You are much older, so you should speak another way. But, you will never offend anyone by talking as if they are older than you.” No wonder whenever I met any native Koreans, one of the first things they wanted to know was when I was born.<br /><br />This will be a trip that will bring back a lot of childhood memories.</div>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3048579862022190124.post-65472490218227349292008-09-20T18:18:00.000-07:002008-10-25T18:46:30.575-07:00Index - Return of the Nativesindex<br /><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/get-ready.html">Sept 23, 2008 .......................Get Ready </a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/flight-to-korea.html">Sept 26 ..................................Flight to Korea</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/greetings.html">Sept 26...................................Greetings</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/meeting-of-cousins.html">Sept 26...................................Meeting Cousins</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/chungae-river.html">Sept 28...................................Chungae River</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/fly-on-wall.html">Sept 28...................................Fly on the Wall</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/downtown.html">Sept 29...................................Down Town</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/gyeongbok-palace.html">Sept 29...................................Gyongbok Palace</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/09/way-i-remembered.html">Sept 30...................................The Way I remembered</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/wives.html">Oct 02.....................................Wives</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/to-be-blessed.html">Oct 02.....................................To Be Blessed</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/special-young-people.html">Oct 02.....................................Special Young People</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/ocean-and-mega-fish-outlet.html">Oct 03.....................................Ocean and Mega Fish Outlet</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/cab-drivers.html">Oct 05.....................................Cab Drivers</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/rainy-sunday.html">Oct 06.....................................Rainy Sunday</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/jeju-island.html">Oct 06.....................................Jeju Island</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-trip.html">Oct 06.....................................My Trip</a><br /><a href="http://korea-after42years.blogspot.com/2008/10/glimpse-of-korea-2008.html">Oct 09.....................................Glimpse of Korea</a>JaeHihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15752745006771621196noreply@blogger.com0