Only a day after the TNN story, the Government of India released the results of its Annual Status of Education Report (ASER) 2011.  An Indian Express article dated 19 January 2012, titled “The crisis in learning,” outlines two major national trends that have emerged from this report.  First, that close to 50% of rural children (aged 9 to 14) pay for their education either in a private school or to a private tutor. (In the 5 years since ASER has been conducting the survey, private school enrollment in rural areas has gone from 18.7% to 25.6%, with some states at near 50%.) Second,  the low level of basic learning, particularly in reading and math. (It is estimated that half of all students in Standard 5 cannot read Standard 2-level text. And 40% of Standard 5 students cannot solve a 2-digit subtraction problem with borrowing.) According to the Indian Express article, these low learning results are not new.  What is disturbing is the indication that the already low levels may be declining further.

ASER looks at primary school children and PISA evaluates secondary school students (15-year olds).  What about higher education?  Set aside the famed Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs) and Indian Institutes of Management (IIM) on which India’s worldwide reputation in education rest, and you will find under-educated students with low job prospects. A 19 January article in the Hindustan Times reports that a Right to Information (RTI) activist has received information that 51% (319 out of 620) of the colleges under the University of Mumbai do not have principals, including renowned colleges of law, management, commerce, arts, engineering, aviation and architecture. Lawsuits abound regarding arbitrary and high capitation fees (fees charged for admission over and above tuition and other published fees), discriminatory admissions (low test ranked students will gain admission over higher ranked students by paying a high “fee”), and institutions operating under false accreditation.  Anecdotal stories from teachers and students alike point to sham institutions, including medical schools, that are built to bilk students of capitation fees. One recently (and partially completed) medical college in Pondicherry offered an acquaintance an extremely generous salary (part of which she was directed to give back to the college) and asked her to report to the college on only two days – the days when the college was scheduled for inspection by accreditation bodies. Staff quarters were never completed because no staff was expected to live on campus.  Students, having paid so much money just to get into the school, muddle through for the degree, having learned nothing.  The same is true for the myriad of IT training institutes and universities that may have, at one time, been competent institutions of learning.  A recent acquaintance reports that a business school professor at Pondicherry University could only recommend three candidates from the entire program for a data entry job.

In an effort to exert some control over the educational institutions under its jurisdiction, the central government has directed all institutes to publish an annual balance sheet, starting 2013.  According to this LiveMint article dated 18 January 2012, India has 527 universities and more than 31,000 colleges (of which at least 60% are under private control) where approximately 15 million students pursue higher education.  This is clearly an attempt to “decommercialize” the education sector and “take care of concerns that many private institutions engage in malpractices to fleece students.”

Unless the quality of education is improved, starting from the ground (primary school), up, India will continue to lose the development race against China.

Wish You Happy Pongal

Inset of kolam featuring clay pongal pot and deepam

Pongal Tableau

Another inset of Kolam featuring the over-flowing pongal

A more linear tableau: sugar cane, pongal being cooked to over-flowing over a wood fire, the sun, and a plate of offerings

A few of the Pongal kolams drawn on two streets in Kuruchikuppam, Pondicherry

South Indian filter coffee is rapidly disappearing, replaced by instant coffee powder.  But whether or not these street-side coffee bars use filter or instant coffee, the “mixing” of boiled milk and coffee is still done the same way.

Cooling coffee

The coffee is generally served in a steel cup with a lip and a small, empty bowl (also with a lip) so that the customer can perform a mini version of the same process – pouring the coffee from the cup into the bowl, and vice verse, holding on to the edge of the lips of the vessels (the liquid is boiling hot!) – but this time, to cool the coffee enough to drink.

And the taste?  Like coffee candy.

Garland maker on Rue Francois Martin, Kuruchikuppam

Just as onion prices have gone sky high, so have the price of garlands that South Indian women wear in their hair or drape around the necks of idols or pictures of gods (or place on the pillows of their Western guests).

Garland supplies, Goubert Market, Pondicherry

Women sit on the ground or on makeshift tables and make garlands from morning to evening in long strands that they then break into different lengths depending on customer desires.

Garland maker at Goubert Market

The garlands are sold by the “arm”  – that is, the length from the tips of your fingers to your elbow.  An “arm” of sweet-smelling jasmine used to cost Rs. 5 to 10 two years ago.  Now, they are Rs. 15 to 20, depending on the season.

The video below is a short clip of the garland maker pictured in the red sari on Rue Francois Martin in Kuruchikuppam, Pondicherry.

Fishing boats at Pillaichavady, Pondicherry

Mending nets

Mending nets on the beach

Boat motor

Dwelling, Pillaichavady

Running water tap

Older sister

Younger sister

The astonishingly high price of onions throughout India has pushed the local topic of conversation away from the mega corruption scandals of the day (the Commonwealth Games (CWG), Adarsh Cooperative Housing Society, the give-away of the 2G telecommunications spectrum, etc.) to the lowly onion, an indispensable ingredient in Indian cooking.  Nationwide, prices are around Rs. 60 to 80 per kilo.  In Pondicherry, it is Rs. 80 ($1.82 at Rs. 44 to U.S. $1).

India exported onions until April 2010.  Prolongued rains in the onion growing areas of Maharashtra, Gujarat and South India resulted in the current shortages.  Effective yesterday, 21 December 2010, the Price Fixation Advisory Committee (PFAC) of the Ministry of Agriculture issued a decision to “voluntarily suspend issuance of NOCs [no objection certificates] for export of onion by NAFED [National Agricultural Cooperative Marketing Federation of India], NCCF [National Cooperative Consumers' Federation of India], and other STEs [I assume this stands for State Trading Enterpises]…” and that NAFED and NCCF would sell onions at Rs. 35-40 through their retail outlets. Wholesale prices in Nasik, one of the major growing areas, came down 35% based on the announcement.  The same day, in a complete reversal, India imported onions from Pakistan. (The cost of onions from Pakistan, including customs duty, cess, transportation and handling chareges, is Rs. 18-20/kg.)  Now, prices in Pakistan are expected to go up 25-30%.

How is the common wo/man affected?  In Pondicherry, street vendors are adding cabbage as filler to supplement onions.  A Times of India Poll:  Will you continue to buy onions? currently stands at 48% (Yes) to 52% (No).  One “no” voter blames the price rise on the 2G, CWG, Adarsh, and other scams.  This article claims that onion prices will threaten India’s growth and government, and a Facebook comment states:  “Give me my bonus in onions.”

It is to be expected that as my father begins to write about his immediate family, his stories will get longer.  This story of his father includes a bit of history to put the story into context, as well as a fairly comprehensive recollection of his father’s various career moves as a pastor.

I’m surprised, no, stunned actually, to learn that my grandfather lived as long as he did – he died at the age of 65.  I always remembered my grandfather as having died at a young age (reasons cited were his temper and high blood pressure).  In fact, I thought that my father had to support his entire family after he graduated from medical school,  after the end of the Korean War in the mid-1950s, because his father had already passed away.  But my grandfather lived until 1966!

Clearly, the important people in my father’s life were his mother and grandmother.  There is no mention of love or attachment between the eldest son (my father) and his father, the eldest son of a son who broke three generations of son-lessness.

There was a leprosy sanatorium called “Ae-Rak-Won” which literally means “loving paradise.” I am not sure whether it was run by the Provincial Presbyterian Church Commission, the provincial government or the central government. I’m also not sure whether the pastor of West-Gate church recommended that my father to go to this place or whether my father volunteered. Nevertheless, my father went there as a Sanatorium Pastor together with the whole family – my mother, grand mo, my elder sister Kun-Ok, myself, my younger sister Song-Ja. At that time I was probably in the middle of my first year at Sou-Boo primary school. In Korea, we go to school at the Korean age of 6. The school was located in the north western direction from the center of the city, and the Sanatorium was located in the south western direction and distance between those two was around 4 – 5 miles apart. My elder sister’s school was also in a similar direction and slightly closer than my school. We, my sister and I, walked to school. May be a mile or so before each school, my sister and I had to take different paths.

Our lives changed dramatically. We moved from a small, rice-straw-roofed house into a dark-grayish-slate-roofed, white-walled Sanatorium Residence for workers. The structure of the house was incomparable to the previous house. It had a hill side location, rooms and a kitchen, etc. There were seven Sanatorium Residences on the hill completely separated from the Sanatorium by a fence. Our house was a middle one. All the residences had a large back yard area which was cultivated. Our father and mother planted that yard with tomatoes, cucumbers, spinach, scallions, etc. and it was real fun to pick and eat the vegetables. Although our schools were a little far for small kid like us, our schools, especially my school, was well regarded, newly built, and a good school. So, our parents did not want me to move schools and we, too were happy with those schools. The only problem with living there was that whenever my father came home from the Sanatorium, he removed and changed his clothes and washed his hand and feet meticulously with disinfectant solution and told us to be careful with those things.

Then one day, when I came home from school, a couple of Japanese detectives were in our house. They had ransacked every corner of our house, especially my father’s book cases. They combed through every page of my father’s books looking for anything inserted in between the pages. The Japanese detectives were questioning my father, and my father was answering using broken Japanese about some things I could not understand. Then, they took my father away in their jeep. My father told my mom that she should not be worried because he would be back home soon. After they left, my mother, grand mo, and even I, tried to put every thing in order, putting books back onto book shelf and cleaning up the house. Mom cooked dinner as usual and call us to eat.

The atmosphere at the dinner table was chilly and calm. No one started to talk and no one initiated picking up chop sticks or spoons. Mom said “OK children, what are you doing, lets eat now, father will be home soon.” We children picked up chop sticks and started to pick up food. However mom did not picks up chop sticks or spoon. I told mom to eat together with us. Then she said with a partly smiley face “I ate some thing late, I am not hungry right now, I will eat a little later, please go ahead, you guys eat.“ I knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but I also knew I could not do anything to help her. She was sitting at the side of the dining table. While I was eating, I looked at her face once in a while. She was watching us eating and looking at the middle of the dining table, without focus, with worried face. I guess my hate against Japan started grow at that time while I was watching my mother’s worried face. Although my father did not  stay in police custody too long ( a few days in the cell, I heard) these kinds of incidents were repeated not infrequently. Whenever these incidents were repeated and whenever I had to watch my mother’s worried face during my father’s absent, my hate against Japan grew bigger and heavier.

After Koreans lost their country, many patriotic Koreans vigorously resisted  the Japanese occupation and many were put in jail, tortured or fled to China, the US or other countries to fight against the Japanese from outside Korea. They formed a Korean provisional government in Shanghai, China. All the patriots who fled to various countries were connected to each other and they gathered together in Shanghai once in a while. They elected Rhee, Sung-Man as the first president of the provisional government of Korea. (About Rhee, Sung-Man, who escaped to the US. He enrolled in George Washington University (I think in the beginning) and became a family friend of the University President. Rhee was invited to their house whenever they had family occasions and he was introduced to a daughter (Francesca) of the Austrian royal family to marry. Rhee was also tall and big, and good looking. Later he studied more in Harvard, and then got a PhD from Princeton. After the end of World War II, he returned home together with Francesca and he became the first president of South Korea (formal name: Republic of Korea).)

Now, back to the story of many patriotic Koreans who were resisting vigorously the Japanese annexation of Korea…

At that time, many religious leaders were either directly or indirectly involved in that independence movement. That was the reason Japanese detectives were looking for some evidence to punish my father. My father stayed in Ae-Rak-Won for about three years.

Then, a church called “Kyung-San Church” invited my father to come over to be a parish Pastor in Kyung-San, which was located about 30 miles to the south of Daegu. Kyung-San was a famous apple producing town, a charming town surrounded by numerous apple orchards and reservoirs. I did not see Japanese detectives in Kyung-San. My father was young, healthy, energetic and worked hard. The Kyung-San church was pretty big but very old. The building was made of wood, and when we walked in the church hall, you would hear squeaky wooden sounds at every step. My father told the church that in order to worship god well, we need to build a real nice church with the granite which was close by. The church members, including the elders, agreed to my father‘s idea. All the church members volunteered to carry the granite stone, cut in certain sizes, carried on cow-pulled wagons or by other means to the church and placed in the church compound. Day by day, the accumulated stone mountain grew bigger and bigger. I remember that in those days, whenever I played with small, tennis-sized balls with other kids, those balls went in between the stones in the mound and no matter how hard we tried, we could not pull them out. I really don’t know how many balls we lost in that stone mound.

Then, suddenly, when I was in sixth grade, my mom told me that we were going to move to Kim-Chon. Kim-Chon is located about 30~40 miles north of Daegu. It is a mid-sized city and my father would go to Bong-Gae church, which is located in the northern suburban region of Kim-Chon city. Why would my father want to move, leaving his ambitious, mega new church building project? My mother whispered to me the reason why we were moving. My father did not have a secondary education. Consequently, his sermons were limited in depth. As months and years went by, my father’s sermon would all be similar, with no broader knowledge. Although the majority of church members liked my father as a pastor, some of the highly educated members of the church, including some elders, started to talk about my father’s sermons.  My father, apparently, suddenly took the position: “in that case I am leaving.” Later I learned that was one of the characters my father had – if you don’t like me, that’s fine; there was no second thought, no begging, no compromise  – I am leaving. I observed that my elder sister had such a character and my younger sisters and brothers told me that I also have that character.

So, my parents, my sisters and my brothers all left, leaving behind mountains of granite stones and my lost balls in the church compound.

And also left behind were my grand mom and me. Because I was in the middle of the sixth year in primary school, I had to apply to a middle school. In order to apply to a decent middle school, it was better not to transfer to another school before graduation. My parents asked the church if we could use one side room of the pastor’s residence until a new pastor come or until I finished my primary school. That was granted. At that time, I was 12 (11 in US age). So, my grandma stayed with me to take care of everything for me until we joined our family in the northern suburban church in Kim-Chon. I went to Kim-Chon middle school for the entrance examination before graduation and entered Kim-Chon middle school. During our stay in Kim-Chon, World War II ended. We heard the news that the Japanese surrendered unconditionally to US. That was August 15, 1945 (US time 8/14/1945). On that day I heard from some of the church members that my father danced in the street waving a Korean flag. I couldn’t believe that my father danced in the street because he is not the type that would dance in a street.

A few years later, my father again moved to a church which was located in the southern region of Kim-Chon, which is where my grand mo died.

And then, we moved two more times in the Daegu area for the  same reason. Apparently, my father had no problem in moving around to different churches. Whenever he moved, they would welcome my father initially. By the way, as one of the Korean church traditions, there were annual or bi-annual church events for special spiritual revival worship for about 5 days to a week. The church would decide on a lecturing pastor first, then invite neighboring church members too. My father was pretty popular in this kind of work in smaller suburban churches. They would make reservations a few years in advance for a pastor. Whenever these churches had a vacancy for a pastor, and my father wanted to move, he would knock at these church and they would welcome my father enthusiastically because the whole church knew about my father.

His last church before he died was called Chim-San church in the northern region of Daegu city where I opened my own medical clinic after being discharged from army duty as an army medical officer. I hired a medical assistant and a nurse to run the clinic under my name (under my supervision) and I went to Dong-San (Presbyterian) hospital department of surgery as a resident. Then I went to Uganda on December 4^th, 1964 together with six other doctors as a Uganda Government Medical Officer hired by the Ministry of Health, Uganda, recruited by WHO officials. When we were in Uganda, we received news that my father had died.

I know my father liked to eat meat a lot – really a lot. It was under Japanese occupation and Japan was at war with the US. No doubt it was a very difficult time for all of us. However my father apparently couldn’t live without meat for a few days. So, when, beef or pork or chicken was difficult and expensive to get, my mom got cheaper rabbit or small goat as an alternative. Whether because of this or not, he developed severe hypertension, hypercholesterolemia, hypertensive retinopathy, hypertension related heart problems, etc. Eventually his medicine did not do any good, and then he refused to take all medication, saying that he would just pray to god. He was going to leave everything to god’s hand. He went to the mountain retreat where there was a prayer house for pastors and church leaders. We heard that he passed away at that mountain retreat. That was March 31^st, 1966. That was where he also scattered his mother’s ash in the same mountain valley stream. We couldn’t go to his funeral. I wired funeral expenses. Our family and relatives buried his body in a private grave yard which I purchased for my father, mother and your mom’s mother (your mother’s side grand mother) before I left for Uganda on a hill in a Daegu suburban area near where my mom’s sister lived.

My father prefaces the story of his father (my grandfather) with:  “probably you don’t remember him very well.”  That is an understatement.  I do not remember him at all.

The other thing that strikes me about this narrative is that my father does not give his father’s name.

Date of birth: May 3, 1901

Date deceased: March 31, 1966 (age of 65)

Physical appearance: Tall & medium heavy build and somehow on the obese side (simply, tall & big).

External (facial) appearance: very handsome and good looking (probably got it from his father).

Memory power: almost photo static? (from his mother?). In his later life, I overheard that when he was a seminary school student, he got up early in the morning and read 3~4 chapters (may be more than 10 pages) of the bible. Then, without his intention, he was able to memorize all the chapters, with every word in the chapters. I know the bible is very hard to memorize – even a few sentences for a dummy like me. Also, in the final stage of his life, he developed hypertensive retinopathy and he was almost blind. However, he still had memorized the whole bible.

Talking skill: tremendous talent in the skill of talk (from his mother?).

Voice: Loud, powerful, baritone voice. (By the way, recently, I read in the internet news that they were talking about who has the best voice for god’s act etc. and for a moment,  I was thinking of my father’s voice.)

Character: Conservative, authoritative, persistently strict. I will talk more about this some other time.

Education: Primary school graduation, then jumped (without secondary education) to seminary school, which was at college level.

My father was born in 1901, almost at the end of the Josen Dynasty / Lee Dynasty (500 years of which ended in 1910, when Korea was annexed by Japan) under the rule of the last king, “Kojong Emperor.”

My father’s childhood or boyhood life is very little known because he never told us – he is not a type of person who would talk about his younger days. My mother, I don’t know how much she knew about him, but she didn’t talk about him either. My grand mo, I don’t remember her talking about him either. I only heard about his younger days when occasionally mom or grand mom talked about him incidentally.

One day, well after graduation from primary school, my father cut his long hair (long hair was a remnant of the feudal age. The idea – the Confucian idea of long hair – was that every thing we got was a gift of one’s parents or ancestors. We should not alter even hair for one’s own convenience. This kind of act was considered to be unfaithful to one’s parents and ancestors) and went to his father (my grand father) and asked him “please father, I want to go to Japan and study more about every thing they learned from western countries.” When his father saw that his son had cut his hair, he got upset and started to shout at him “you fool, why do you need study, is study going to feed you? Making money is the best thing in the world. Do you understand?” I think at that time my grand pa was already declining and was a semi-ruined person. Otherwise what kind of parent would refuse his son’s legitimate and constructive request? However, in those days, the teachings were (1) Royalty to the King, (2) Filial piety to the parents, (3) Trust of friends. He was no doubt a very faithful son like most of the Koreans in those days. So, he had to say “yes father” whether he agreed or not.

He was depressed. Moreover, he had to watch his father’s unthinkable way of living, such as womanizing, gambling and drug abuse. He was more depressed. Then, one day, a friend of his asked him to go to a church. He went to the church, a big church,a huge, two story building. I know this church because I later had to attend this church with the whole family. The name of this church was West Gate Church. My father liked it a lot. My father got a firm massage of hope. He attended the church very diligently day and night. The Pastor of that church liked him a lot. My father was promoted to Deacon and started to teach in church’s Sunday school for children. Pastor fell in love with him. I can imagine the reason the pastor liked him a lot was that he was a tall, big, handsome man with good speaking skills, a good voice and tremendous memory power. Sometimes, he was asked by the pastor to pray for the whole church. He did it very well by overwhelming the church, his voice echoing through out the church, and the church’s window glass vibrating. The pastor began to persuade him to become a pastor. My father said “but pastor, I don’t have a secondary school graduation record.” The pastor apparently told him that that was not a problem – the Dean of Pyongyang Seminary School was his friend. (At that time, this was an only Seminary School in Korea. By the way, Pyongyang is the North Korean capital now.) My father was very much interested and excited about it. But he could not talk to his father about this because he knew his father’s answer “you fool — .”

Then, one day, his father died miserably and left the family penniless. He no longer had to get permission to go to seminary school. But reality was that he was now a responsible head of household and he could not leave the members of his household to starve to death. He has to support his family first. My grand mo ran up and down, from Won-San to Pusan, screaming SOS and got some amount of money that she borrowed. With that capital, my father bought several commercial sewing machines, rented a space, hired several people and started to make ready made clothes. In other words, he opened a small, ready made clothing manufacturing factory. However, the business did not go as well as he thought in would. At this point, I am just guessing that when he opened that factory, he might have thought that after he made a certain amount of money, he could leave that money to my mother to support the whole family and then he could leave for Pyongyang Seminary School without worry. But now, he was in a deep dilemma. He discussed this with my mom. Of course, I know my mom very well – no doubt she would have said to my father: please Kun-Ok’s (my elder sister’s name) father, go ahead for what you really want to do, don’t worry about us here in Daegu, she will take care of rest of the family by herself as best as she could. Then, probably, my father thanked her, sold the business, paid back the loans and left for Pyongyang holding a strong recommendation letter from the pastor of West-Gate Church.

Then, my poor mother’s teary struggle for life began. Amazingly, she never gave up and she was a survivor. I will write this part when I write my mother’s story and my own story.

So, finally my father went to Pyongyang. However, he was penniless. One of the professors in the Seminary School introduced him to a suburban church to serve as an evangelist (the position before pastor as a seminary school student), where he got some pay and managed his seminary student life. By the way, some of smaller churches that could not afford to support a pastor, hired evangelists as an alternative and on big occasions like baptisms or the ordainment of elders, they invite a real pastor for that purpose. Apparently, he was pretty popular in that small church and when he returned to Daegu after graduation from Seminary School, he brought a lot of gifts not only from that church itself but also from many members of that church. As usual, my father did not talk about his life in Pyongyang.

My father returned to Daegu. The pastor of West-Gate church was very proud of him and he ordained my father as a real pastor in front of all the church members. No doubt I was there, but how come I don’t remember that event? I only remember was that when I went to church on that day with my father, the pastor of West-Gate Church came out of his office and asked my father if I was his son. My father said yes. Then that pastor grabbed me with both his hands under my arm pits and lifted me up sky high and said “what a nice boy, he’s just like you!”

My father interrupts the story of his father to give us a short history of Korea around the time of his father’s birth – 1901 – up to the end of the Japanese occupation of Korea in 1945.

Archeological findings show that the Korean peninsula was occupied by the Lower Paleolithic period. Korean history begins with the founding of Gojosen in 2333 BC by the legendary Dan-Gun. We had three kingdoms before Silla unified Korea. Those were Goguryeo (north), Baekjae (middle) and Silla (south). Goguryeo Kingdom in the north extended to all of Manchuria, the south east part of Russia and part of the north-eastern region of China until Genghis Khan from Mongolia defeated Goguryeo back to the Korean peninsula. Because Goguryeo was significantly weakened, Silla from the south unified the three kingdoms in 668 AD. Following the unification of the three kingdoms, Korea went through the Goryeo Dynasty and Josen Dynasty (Lee Dynasty) as one nation until the end of the Korean empire in 1910, when Korea was annexed by Japan.

After Korea was annexed by Japan, Japan invaded China using Korea as a stepping stone, like a military transportation convenience. Japan was already semi-industrialized by the Emperor Meiji. They had more dominant fire power and a more organized army than China had. So, Japan was an enemy for both Korea and China. The soldiers of the Korean independence movement collaborated very well with the Chinese army. At that time, the Chinese premier was the famous Chiang, Kai-Shek and his wife Madam Song, Mi-Ryun. [This must be the Korean pronunciation of Soong, Mei-Ling.]

Now, I also have to talk a little bit about Japanese history before my father was born. A Japanese emperor called “Emperor Meiji” or “Meiji the great” revolutionized Japan. Until the mid 19^th century, Japan was an isolated, pre-industrial, feudal country. There were numerous war lords fighting each other and finally Toyotomi Hideyosi unified the country into one. Then, the Tokugawa Shogunate started in which numerous (about 180) lords ruled the country for about 250 years. In those days, the Japanese Emperor was just a symbol; he never left his palace, never participated or was consulted in politics or national affairs. Then, one day, (1852?) during the Tokugawa Shogunate, a foreign ship, a so called “black ship” appeared in Tokyo Bay (at that time Tokyo was not a capital, the capital was Kyoto) and demanded that the country be opened for trade or suffer military consequences. Strangely, the powerful Tokugawa, upon hearing the news, consulted the Emperor about this black ship problem. The emperor, who was Meiji’s father at that time, answered back in writing that all foreigners are our friends too, please go ahead, open our door and trade with them. The point was that powerful Tokugawa listened to the powerless (at that time) emperor’s suggestion. Later, historians said that it was a lucky turning point for Japan.

Mean while, in Korea, there was also a strong movement for reform from feudal society. There were many groups among cabinet members such as a pro-Japanese group, pro-Soviet group, pro-Chinese group, etc. Among them, the most dominant group was the ultra-conservative group (close door group) and they accused others as traitors; falsely trapped people into treason plots against the King; and had them executed or given a death drink or removed from all official posts and sent into exile to remote places. Whenever foreign ships appeared in our waters (at that time, the port near Seoul was called “Jaemulpo,” now it is “Inchon”) Korean ordered them to leave or be destroyed in the name of the  emperor. However, the voices for reform became louder and louder. At last Korea opened its doors in 1876 to Japan, rapidly followed by US, China, Russia etc. Each country opened their consulate general and international politics began. Dr. Allen, the first north American missionary doctor, came to Korea in 1884, He opened a surgical clinic called “Jaejung-won” which was the origin of Severance Hospital.

In Japan, they opened their doors earlier and in a few decades’ time had undergone political, social and industrial revolution under Meiji emperor’s rule and suddenly emerged as a great power on the world stage. Luckily, Meiji emperor had a few brilliant advisors. They made the powerful Tokugawa into a powerless man and they made a central government which was able to control the whole country. They called that the ‘new’ Japan. They formed strong military forces with advanced fire power and looked outside to expand their country. In Korea, the pro-Japanese and pro-US groups were two strong groups. The Empress was pro-US because the Empress’s nephew studied in the US. The Empress advised the Emperor not to listen to the Japanese Counselor because they might eventually invade our country. The Japanese counselor decided to assassinate the Korean Empress with the help of their troops which were stationed in Korea to protect their embassy. Their code name for this operation at that time was “fox hunt.” Eventually, Myung Sung Empress was assassinated. (By the way, after World War II, after the Japanese surrender, a Korean musician made a musical opera “Myung Sung Empress” out of that sad story.) In the Korean Emperor’s cabinet, the  pro-Japanese power was growing day by day but what they didn’t know was that Japan was luring them. Japan invited the pro-Japanese leaders to Japan. They saw eye popping change in Japan. They saw buildings, street cars, even WC systems in bath rooms. The Japanese treated them nicely and promised them royal titles like Duke, etc. and that they would be treated as royal family. They said that Japanese and Koreans were the same people -  why not make one country together instead of two. So, those pro-Japanese members of the Korean cabinet were tricked and put their signatures on Japanese paper. Their representing leader’s name was “Lee, Wan-Yong.” Even now, we call him a traitor or a betrayer of Korea, who sold our country to Japan. That was the end of the Josen Dynasty (Lee Dynasty) of 500 years. The Japanese occupied  Korean land from 1910 to 1945, until the end of WWII. It was for 35 years but Koreans used to say 36 years using the Korean way of calculation.

We had heavy anti-Japanese sentiment in Korea, much of which stemmed from the period of Japanese occupation. During WWII, more than 100,000 Koreans, including college students, were forced to serve in the Imperial Japanese arm; Korean women were lured to the war front to serve the Imperial Japanese army as sex slaves called comfort women; Japanese politicians, including the Prime Minister, visited the Yasukuni shrine to honor Japanese war crimes against Korean civilians; Japanese textbooks were rewritten to  falsify Japanese acts during WII2; etc., and etc.

On March 1^st, 1919 (9 years after the Japanese occupation), there was an independence declaration. It was a huge nation-wide uprising in every corner of the country. The text of the Independence declaration was read in Pagoda Park in Seoul and signed by 33 famous patriots. The Japanese used live ammunition. There were so many casualties and many were imprisoned. Many of them fled to other countries, mainly China, US, and France. (We commemorate March First every year and never forget about that day.) Patriots gathered in Shanghai, China. A provisional government was formed in Shanghai on April 1, 1919 a month after the March 1st declaration. The first President of the provisional government was Rhee, Sung-Man who fled to the US.

The liberation of Korea took place on 8/15/1945 (the end of WWII; the Japanese surrendered unconditionally).

A Korean government was proclaimed on 8/15/1948 (after three years of US military government). The first president was also Rhee, Sung-Man.

My grandfather’s younger sister was known to my father as Jakun Go-Mo, or Pusan Go-Mo, after the town in which she lived with her husband and children.   My father did not know her name, just as he did not know the name of his older aunt, known as Won-San Go-Mo.  But he knew the name of his uncle, a man who disappeared from their lives when my father was very young. It is interesting to me that the aunts (his father’s sisters) were both known by the city in which they lived.  Now what I want to know is:  Are the children of his father’s sisters also considered “real” cousins, or are they lumped in the same category as cousins from his mother’s side?

Year born: around 1905.

Year deceased: around 1951 (age around 46).

Cause of death: I don’t know.

Physical appearance: medium height and medium build.

External (facial) appearance: Beautiful (my father’s elder sister & younger brother were similar and my father & younger sister were good looking).

Character: very kind, always smiling, understanding, not talkative, good woman (my mother said she was a “real woman”).

I don’t know much about my Pusan Go-Mo. I saw them only a couple of time when I was a little kid and she died at an early age. So, this information is mainly from my grand mo and my mother.

She was married to a jeweler. I saw her husband (Go-Mo-Bu) once in his jewelry store with grand mo when grand mo visited Pusan with me when I was small. Pusan city is a port city, the second largest city in Korea, a little larger than Daegu, located at the southern end of the Korean peninsula, closest to Japan, separated by the Korea Straight.  In my vague memory, Go-Mo-Bu was tall, of medium build and wore silver-framed eye glasses. He was polite to my grand mo who was his mother-in-law. I got an impression at that time that he was a nice gentleman.

They had three children (my cousins).

(1)   Female: name – don’t know or I forgot. Much older than me (maybe by about 8 years), medium height and somehow chubby, pretty, married to a police officer who later became one of the highest ranked police officers in the country I heard.

(2)   Male: Choi, Yoon Kun, about 6 years older than me, medium height and slightly chubby, average looking, married to a selfish, egoistic woman, medium rich, owned automobile parts store.

(3)   Male: Choi, Yoon Pil, about 3 years older than me, medium height, heavy built, muscular, liked all kinds of sports, especially base ball and fencing (Japanese style).

To refresh some of your memories, when I was in second year Pre-Med in Seoul, the Korean War erupted on 6/25/1950. Seoul fell in three days; the North Korean army pushed down all the way to near Daegu… I cremated Won-San Go-Mo-Bu [Won-San Go-Mo's husband]. Then I was in one of the waves of refugees accompanied by two other friends. We walked and walked down towards the south – towards Daegu. Almost near the Daegu, as a refugee, in civilian clothes, holding a Yonsei University student certificate, we met US troops.  Can you imagine they put us in P.O.W. (prisoner of war) camp for 22 long months? I was freed on 7/21/1952 and revisited and enrolled in Yonsei University’s temporary war time school in Pusan in the second semester of second year in Pre-Med…

[This is not my memory at all.  As I remember the story, my father was a soldier when he and his three (not two) buddies, found themselves near the front.  They were scared and hungry.  When they saw the U.S. soldiers, they argued about what to do.  Three of them, including my father, wanted to show themselves to the Americans so that they could be taken back to their base.  The fourth did not - he didn't trust the U.S. soldiers.  They argued for some time, because my father wanted them all to make a unanimous decision - he wanted them all to be together.  They did not come to an agreement, and the fourth friend split off and ran in the opposite direction.  My father and his two other friends showed themselves to the U.S. soldiers, expecting relief.  Instead, they were taken (to be North Korean soldiers) as prisoners of war.]

Then, I went to my Pusan elder cousin brother Yoon-Kun’s house, near where our Yonsei temporary war time school was, to ask if I could stay in their house for about 6 months of schooling, because it was predicted that by the time I completed Pre-Med, the Government might allow citizens to return to Seoul.

My cousin elder brother heard my story and said “OK” although somewhat reluctantly. However, his wife, my aunt, didn’t look happy about it. Later, I told my mom about that situation. My mom said “old saying: ‘one leg (one chon) distance is like 1000 miles’ If your Go-Mo (my fathers younger sister who is 3 chon level, cousin = 4 chon) was still alive she would have welcomed you gladly.” Any way, I had no choice because I knew my parents didn’t have enough money, especially in that war time. Never the less, I was only able to stay in Yoon-Kun cousin’s house less than a month.

Stories will follow when I write my own story.