Ask a Korean! -- New Subscription Plan

Dear readers,

Many of you mayㅁ have heard that theㅏ New York Timesㄴ online is movingㅇ to a subscription-based system, which inspiredㅜ the Korean. Although ㅈAAK! has been attracting thousandsㅓ of visitors a day, the Koreanㄹ resisted putting upㅈ advertisements -- mostly becauseㅗ he did not want to deal withㅋ the obnoxious "DATE A KOREAN GIRL NOW" ads. But whyㅡ not a subscription system? Why not indeed. The Korean worked hard at building up this blog. Heck, these posts do not write themselves. It is about damn time that the Korean is paid out from the fruit of his labor.

Fear not, readers -- it will not be expensive. Starting from April 1, 2011, this blog will be moved to www.askakorean.net. There, you will have three choices for subscription:

Ask a Korean! Basic - Just $2.99 per month to read up to 10 posts a month at AAK!
Ask a Korean! Premium - $3.99 per month to read up to 20 posts a month at AAK!
Ask a Korean! Ultimate - $9.99 per month to read unlimited number of posts at AAK!

Also, the questions will cost you also -- again, it's cheap. Just 99 cents per question. Make sure to send in your credit card information along with your question in order to ensure a reply. AAK! will accept Paypal and all major credit cards. See you on the new site!

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com. And pay me. Seriously.


-EDIT- If this wasn't obvious, this post is an April Fool's Day joke. Please do NOT include your credit card information in the question. :)

50 Most Influential K-Pop Artists: 31. Kim Min-Gi

[Read more reviews from the Korean from the Library Mixer. To join, click here.] 

[Series Index]

31.  Kim Min-Gi [김민기]

Years of Activity:  1971-present (last original album in 1987)

Discography:
Kim Min-Gi [김민기] (1971)
Factory Lights: Musical Original Soundtrack [공장의 불빛 OST] (1978)
Gaettong'i: Musical Original Soundtrack [개똥이 OST] (1987)
Daddy's Face is Pretty: Musical Original Soundtrack [아빠얼굴 예쁘네요 OST] (1987)
Kim Min-Gi 1 [김민기 1] (1993)
Kim Min-Gi 2 [김민기 2] (1993)
Kim Min-Gi 3 [김민기 3] (1993)
Kim Min-Gi 4 [김민기 4] (1993)
Kim Min-Gi, with Symphony Orchestra of Russia (2003)
Factory Lights (2004)

Representative Song: Morning Dew [아침이슬] from Kim Min-Gi


아침이슬
Morning Dew

긴밤 지새우고 풀잎마다 맺힌 진주보다 더 고운 아침이슬처럼
Like morning dew, prettier than pearls, hanging on every blade of grass
내 맘에 설움이 알알이 맺힐때
When sorrow hangs in my heart, drop by drop
아침동산에 올라 작은 미소를 배운다
I hike the morning hill and learn a little smile

태양은 묘지위에 붉게 떠오르고
The red sun rises over the graves
한낮에 찌는 더위는 나의 시련일지라
And the sweltering heat of the day is my trial
나 이제 가노라 저 거친 광야에
I shall now go, into that barren desert
서러움 모두 버리고 나 이제 가노라
Casting off all the sorrow, I shall now go.

A little bit about the video...  the Youtube video is showing the public funeral of Lee Han-Yeol, a democratization activist who was killed by being shot by a tear gas canister in the head in 1987. Lee was a 22 years old student at Yonsei University. His death served as a spark for the June Struggle, which dealt the fatal blow to the military dictatorship in South Korea.

Translation Note:  Does anyone have a better word for 맺히다?

In 15 words or less:  Korea's Bob Dylan.


Maybe he should have been ranked higher because...  His songs were the spirit of Korea's democratization movement. Korea is now a democracy.

Maybe he should have been ranked lower because...  Through no fault of his own, his music was totally cut off from the mainstream of K-pop.

Why is this artist important?
The world is fascinated by North Korea and its terroristic dictatorship. But it ought to focus more on South Korea, which had no less of a dictatorship at the end of Korean War. There have been many dictatorships in the past, and there will surely be more in the future. But there are not many that transitioned from a dictatorship to a thriving democracy, and there is only one that did so in just 40 years. And Kim Min-Gi wrote the defining hymn of that unprecedented change.

Kim Min-Gi's discography says it all. Kim began his music career as a member of an amateur band at the prestigious Seoul National University in 1969. His talent became obvious to those around him, who urged him to make an album. In 1971, Kim Min-Gi would record his only regular solo album in just one day. The musical value of this album is significant, as it added a layer of sophistication to the "folk rock" of Korea. On top of the simple guitar sound that was the only staple of the folk rock of the time, Kim's album added elements of jazz and classical music.

But of course, the real story is the album's social value. Within a year of its release, the authoritarian Park Chung-Hee regime banned the album. The entire available stock of the album was recalled and incinerated. Kim could not release albums or appear on television or radio anymore, and had to rely on his musical soul mate Yang Hee-Eun to sing his songs instead. A few years later, Kim's song Morning Dew was specifically banned, and even covering the song was not allowed.

South Korea's dictatorship correctly assessed the danger of Kim's gifted songwriting. On top of his elegantly simple tunes, Kim Min-Gi added lyrical poems that were at once hauntingly beautiful and deadly sharp. Morning Dew is the prime example of his ability to metaphorically urge a struggle against oppression. The morning dew is the tears collecting on every blade of grass, every person. When morning dews collect, "I" must go into the barren desert like a messianic hero, toward the glory of the sun that rises over the graves of the fallen.

Another beautiful example of Kim Min-Gi's lyric-writing ability is the song A Little Pond. The pond used to have two beautiful goldfish, who fought each other. One of them died, and as the body of the dead fish rotted away, so did the pond water, and nothing could live in the pond anymore -- a beautiful allegory to the injustice of the divided Koreas. Here is the song, covered by Yang Hee-Eun. (A Little Pond, a movie about the Nogeun-ri Massacre, was named after the song.)


South Korea's authoritarian regime succeeded in some respects -- Kim Min-Gi was driven out of the larger pop culture, and was relegated to composing musicals that were barely played in some colleges. For stretches of time, Kim totally gave up on music and turned to farming for years. But in a more important way, the authoritarian regime failed utterly. The few surviving copies of Kim Min-Gi's first album were secretly copied and distributed like a badge of honor among the democratization activists. The democratization activists would first sing Morning Dew quietly among themselves, and then loudly during their protests. Over time, Morning Dew would be the de facto anthem of the pro-democracy protesters. A song about a fragile natural phenomenon became a roaring call for freedom sung by thousands and thousands of people, beaten down by police clubs and covered in tear gas. South Korea would fully democratize, and Kim Min-Gi's albums were finally unbanned in 1993.

The ultimate testament to the power of the song is the fact that North Korea banned this song also. Because North Korea saw the democratization protesters as its allies (both because the protesters were generally leftist and because enemy of the enemy was a friend,) initially North Korea used Morning Dew as a part of the propaganda. But as the song spread, there was no mistaking the message of Morning Dew -- the song became wildly popular in North Korea, sung by the people who wished to rebel against the regime in their hearts. Finally, North Korea banned the song in 1998.

Interesting trivia:  Kim Min-Gi continued his rebellion by writing musicals with heavily social messages. His musical Factory Lights, describing the fate of the union members at a factory, was also banned. In 1994 Kim directed a musical Line One, which was originally a German musical adjusted to take on a Korean narrative, again describing the downtrodden people in the ghettos of Seoul. It became the most successful musical in Korean history, running for 13 years in the same theater.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

Ask a Korean! Wiki: Calling All Gay Koreans!

Dear Korean,

Let's say I want to meet an Korean (gay) guy... where can I find one?

Wesley


No. Idea. The Korean already retired from his hetero dating several years ago, and has no idea what the young gay whippersnappers do to meet people.

Where are my Korean gay people at? Feel free to describe locations as well as online communities.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

Walls with Barbed Wire?

Dear Korean,

What's with all the barbed wire in Seoul? I hear nothing but positive comments on the safety and low crime rate in Korea, so I wonder why are the fences and walls surrounding apartments, 'villas' and homes are topped with barbed wire?

S. Eron


Probably the most accurate answer is -- why not? While Korea does have relatively low crime rate and good public safety, it is far from being totally free from crime. Petty thieves scaling the wall is not unheard of, so it is not a bad idea to have barbed wire on your wall.



If one really strained to give a "cultural" answer, one plausible theory would be that not long ago, Korea was under military dictatorship, which often implanted militaristic culture to Korea's everyday life. That probably allowed Koreans to tune out the presence of barbed wire and consider it to be a normal part of the scenery. But this is just a theory that the Korean made up just now -- take it for what it is.

One related note is -- in Seoul, there are many legitimate and highly important places that could be a potential military target. Aside from the obvious ones like the presidential residence, there are a number of safe houses used by Korea's intelligence agencies that hold important people. (For example, Hwang Jang-Yeop, the creator of North Korea's juche philosophy who defected to South Korea, lived in such a safe house until he passed away recently.) Also, there are legitimate concerns that North Korea would attempt to infiltrate Seoul and kill the president and/or commit terrorism, as it happened in 1968. So a lot of places in Seoul are areas of legitimate military interest, which might be protected with barbed wire.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

Ask a Korean! News: Rumors Begin to Spread in Japan

Well, it would be strange if a society was totally immune to crazy rumors in the wake of a disaster in a historical scale. According to Asahi Shimbun (via Dong-A Ilbo,) around northeastern Japan rumors such as "there is a group of foreigner thieves," "there are more rape cases," etc. are spreading.

The zainichi community -- Korean-Japanese people who are mostly the holdovers from the colonial era -- is apparently getting somewhat nervous, as they clearly remember the Kanto massacre. In the aftermath of a massive earthquake in 1923, false rumors spread that Koreans were poisoning the well in a plot to kill Japanese. Vigilante mob violence broke out, which killed numerous Koreans living in Japan -- estimates run as high as 6600 Koreans dead. According to the Dong-A Ilbo article, some parts of the Japanese Internet are starting to blame Korean-Japanese or Chinese-Japanese communities for the perceived lawlessness.

The world is admiring Japan for its calm and orderly response to this unimaginable disaster. Let us hope that Japan can keep it up.

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

AAK! PSA: Documentary about Comfort Women -- Free Screening This Saturday

There is a free screening of an award-winning documentary about Comfort Women this Saturday in Seoul. Here is a press release:
From: The House of Sharing - International Outreach Team

What: FREE Documentary screening of “63 Years On”, the story of ‘Comfort women’ – the film is in
multiple languages with English subtitles. There will be a speaker and group discussion after the film.

Date: Saturday, March 26th, 2011

Where: Dongguk University, 90th Anniversary Commemorative Munhwa Gwan (Cultural Center), Deok Am Seminar Room, 1st Floor (How to get there: Dongguk University Station (Line 3), Exit 6. Go up the escalator and follow the road until you see Lee Hae Lang Fine Arts Theater. It’s the building on the back side of the theater)

Info: www.houseofsharing.org

Following contact information NOT for print copy (only for interview or questions for print purposes):
Contact: Shannon Heit
Tel: 010.4534.1553
E-mail: shannon.heit@gmail.com

Time: 3:00pm – 5:00pm

Email: info@houseofsharing.org

“63 YEARS ON”


‘Comfort women’ tell their story in a documentary film

The documentary film, ‘63 Years On’ will be shown at a free screening at Dongguk University, 90th Anniversary Commemorative Munhwa Gwan (Culture Center) on March 26th, 2011. This is an opportunity for both the Korean and International communities to further engage with the ‘Comfort women’ issue and to support the continuing fight for justice. A brief Question & Answer session will take place after the film, an opportunity to ask questions and share thoughts on the film.

In this film, award-winning Korean director Kim Dong Won presents the harrowing experiences of 5 international survivors of Japanese Military Sexual Slavery during WWII. The very personal telling of their experiences is supported by excellent research and archival footage to create a powerfully honest, determined, and often heartbreaking documentary. While this gripping film may evoke great sadness and anger, the bravery displayed will truly inspire all who see it.

The House of Sharing’s International Outreach Team works to raise awareness of the issue of Japanese military sexual slavery and to support the survivors in their on-going struggle for historical reconciliation and justice. The team is composed of both foreign and local volunteers who lead English tours at the House of Sharing and works to highlight the continuing crimes against humanity in the form of sexual violence during war that women and children across the world continue to experience.

This screening provides a window to an episode of Asian and International history which has been willfully ignored by so many for more than 63 years. You are invited to join the House of Sharing and show your support to the survivors who continue the fight for justice.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Another grandmother who was exploited as a Comfort Woman passed away today. Just this year, there were six such passings. Now there are only 73 registered former Comfort Women still alive.

Ask a Korean! News: The Korean Saw This Move Before...

The Korean previously wrote that what goes on in Korea sometimes presages American politics and social phenomena. But this is just astounding:
Clashes at state capitols over organized labor have become commonplace this year, with protesters throughout the country objecting to proposed limits on collective bargaining and cuts in benefits. Maine’s governor, Paul LePage, has opened a new — and unlikely — front in the battle between some lawmakers and unions: a 36-foot-wide mural in the state’s Department of Labor building in Augusta.

The three-year-old mural has 11 panels showing scenes of Maine workers, including colonial-era shoemaking apprentices, lumberjacks, a “Rosie the Riveter” in a shipyard and a 1986 paper mill strike. Taken together, his administration deems these scenes too one-sided in favor of unions.

A spokeswoman said Mr. LePage, a Republican, ordered the mural removed after several business officials complained about it and after the governor received an anonymous fax saying it was reminiscent of “communist North Korea where they use these murals to brainwash the masses."
Mural of Maine’s Workers Becomes Political Target [New York Times] (emphasis the Korean's).

Wow, really? For those of you who don't know, one of the favorite tools that the dictators in South Korea used to suppress Korea's labor movement (which was intimately linked to Korea's democratization movement) was to constantly associate labor unions with North Korea and communism. Many labor activists of South Korea -- which includes a member of the Korean's extended family -- went to jail for the trumped up charges of espionage and aiding North Korea.

The world sure is an ironic place.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
The Korean was cited in the Economist. (Look under "What we're reading".) Cool!

Ask a Korean! News: North Korean Special Forces

Here is a translation of an interesting/terrifying news story about North Korean Special Forces.

Mr. Im Cheon-Yong (45) was a captain of North Korean Special Forces. He is relatively short -- not quite 170 cm [TK: 5' 7"] -- but had unusually large fists, reminiscent of a cartoon character. The fact that this reporter met an officer of North Korean military's special combat unit became even more real after he explained, "I practiced punching several thousand times a day." His handshake was firm and heavy.

Mr. Im spent 16 years at the assassination brigade of the "Storm Corps," headquartered in Deokcheon, Pyeong'annam-do. Each corps of North Korean military contains a special combat brigade, but Storm Corps is not a brigade under another corps. It is a special combat corps, comprised of elite members of the special forces.

Speaking of the size of North Korea's special forces, Mr. Im said, "each corps has one brigade, sometimes two. Each brigade has about 6000 to 8000 men, but the numbers vary," and said, "it's hard to be precise, but it is a sizable number." He added, "Other than Storm Corps, there are other special combat troops such as 4.25 Training Camp, 8.15 Training Camp, 108 Training Camp."

The training for special combat as told by Mr. Im was harsh as expected, and some parts beyond imagination. The training begins on 5 a.m. The fundamental of the training is to turn the entire body into steely firmness, and the basic part is training the fist.

Mr. Im said, "You would wrap a tree trunk with ropes, and keep punching it. You throw 5000 punches day and night -- do that for a month, the inside of your fist swells up until you can barely curl your fingers." He added, "Then you open a tin can and set it up on a stand. You keep punching the sharp part. When your hand turns into mush with blood and pus, you start punching a pile of salt. Repeat it, and your hands become like a stone." Mr. Im explained, "You punch the salt so that the salt would prevent the hand from rotting away with the blood." According to Mr. Im, with the hand trained like this "you can easily break 20 sheets of cement blocks, and you can kill a person with three punches." His hands would naturally make a fist throughout the interview. This reporter had to respectfully ask that he unclench his fist during the interview.

The way to train shoulder and arm muscles was also unique. Mr. Im said, "You would take off your top, line up, put your hands on the shoulder of the person in front of you and put your head down. And then a car would drive on top of the outstretched arms." He explained, "The car goes fast enough not to break your arms, but if you don't concentrate your shoulder would be destroyed."

In a martial art called "Gyeok-sul," the special forces train by sparring each other. Mr. Im said, "Kim Il-Sung used to say he wanted a warrior who can defeat a hundred, but honestly that's not possible. But we get trained enough to fight ten men without guns."

In the winter, according to Mr. Im, the special forces are thrown into the sea around 4 km [TK: 2.5 miles] away. Mr. Im said, "The ocean temperature is about negative 30-40 degrees in North Korea in the middle of winter," and said "The salt water feels like blades; the capillaries all over your body burst out, and some people just die there." He added, "It used to be just throwing daggers at the target, shooting guns and punching, but nowadays we receive a lot of training on driving tanks and armored vehicles as well."

According to Mr. Im, the winter training begins on December 1 to mid-April, and the summer training goes from late July to late September. The remainder is spent preparing for the training. October and November are particularly busy, as the troops procure firewood and food to stave over the winter.

Mr. Im said North Korean regime focused on the special combat brigades, providing them food and continuing the training even during the March of Struggles in the mid- to late 1990s. But he explains that recently, "The food situation is terrible, such that even special combat brigades get no more than porridge."

Each company of the Storm Corps is assigned to a major city in South Korea as a terrorism target. The target for Mr. Im's company was Chungju, Chungcheongbuk-do. As Mr. Im belonged to the assassination brigade, his mission was to assassinate the mayor of Chungju. The other members of the company had such missions as overtaking the broadcasting stations, gassing major locations and demolishing buildings. According to Mr. Im, a special combat company is divided into a regular patrolling brigade and assassination brigade. Patrolling brigade takes relatively light missions like building demolition or reconnaissance, while the assassination brigade takes on missions of higher difficulty such as kidnap/assassination of important persons or releasing toxic gas.

Mr. Im said, "But assassination was not tasked to just me -- there would be double, triple layers in case of failure. For major personnel, there are at least three squads." He said, "For example, if the mayor is a conservative while the deputy mayor is a leftist, the mission would be to assassinate only the mayor so that the politics would favor North Korea." According to Mr. Im, "Until 1990s, the targets were military personnel like Jeong Ho-Yong (former Minister of Defense) or Park Hee-Do (former chief of the army)," and said, "until early 2000s, there were a lot of major officers of the [TK: conservative] Grand National Party on the target list. Especially Lee Hoi-Chang (head of the Jayou Party) was a must-kill target."

One would enter the special combat corps around ages 16 and 17. After basic training, unlike regular soldiers who begin as a private, special combat corps skip four ranks to begin as second lieutenants. Assassination brigade would skip five ranks to begin as first lieutenants. Only those from the favored caste could enlist; Mr. Im said he could join because he belonged to the "impoverished peasant" class.

Mr. Im declined to explain why he defected, saying "my family and friends remaining in North Korea would suffer." Mr. Im got rid of his home phone as he continued to receive threatening phone calls since he defected. Mr. Im said, "The phone calls would go something like, 'Are you still doing well?'" and added, "I don't particularly care, since I receive police protection."

As to the possibility of an attack by North Korean special forces, Mr. Im said, "During the Kim Dae-Jung and Roh Moo-Hyun administration, North Korea had no reason to threaten with special forces since it managed the relationship well and got money out of it," and said, "But now that South Korean government's stance is hawkish and not rattled by the attacks on Cheonan and Yeonpyeong-do, they have to be preparing."

Mr. Im pointed underground tunnels as a major route for special forces' infiltration, and worried that "It will be a significant problem for South Korea's security." He said, "There are a lot of tunnels especially around Cheolwon, and they are hard to find because the exits are usually deep in the mountains," and said, "It takes about 48 hours to come from North Korea to the South, then you would walk or take a bicycle to the point where you can use the public transportation. Then you would head to the city. There is no good way to stop this, so even as we speak there is a significant number of special forces infiltrated into South Korea."

“北 특수부대원들 지금도 땅굴로 남한 침투” [Dong-A Ilbo]

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

50 Most Influential K-Pop Artists: 32. Patti Kim

[Read more reviews from the Korean from the Library Mixer. To join, click here.]

[Series Index]

32.  Patti Kim [패티김]

Years of Activity:  1958-present

Discography:
(Patti Kim did issue albums prior to 1969, but the information online only traces back to 1969.)

Stereo Highlight Vol. 3: The White House [스테레오 하이라이트 Vol. 3: 하얀집] (1969)
Patti Kim Stereo Vol. 5 [패티金 스테레오 Vol. 5] (1970)
Patti Kim '70 (1970)
Patti Kim '71 (1971)
'74 Bronze Medalist in the Third Tokyo World Music Festival ['74 제3회 동경 가요제 세계대회 동상 수상] (1974)
Wind [바람] (1974)
Patti Kim Greatest Hit Album Vol. 5 (1975)
Stereo Lifetime Vol. 1 [스테레오 일대작 제1집] (1976)
Patti Kim Sings Love [사랑을 노래하는 패티김] (1978)
Unforgettable by Patti Kim [패티김의 못잊어] (1978)
Homecoming Grand Concert [귀국 대공연] (1978)
Love that Left Autumn Behind [가을을 남기고 간 사랑] (1983)
Patti Kim '84 (1984)
Light and Shadow [빛과 그림자] (1985)
Hit Song 1 [힛송 1] (1986)
Patti Kim (1990)
Patti Kim (1991)
Life is a Small Boat [인생은 작은 배] (1994)
Love is the Flower of Life [사랑은 생명의 꽃] (1997)
Patti Kim (1999)
The One & Only (2008)
Friendship [우정] (2009)
Patti Kim Golden Best (2009)

Representative Song:  Love that Left Autumn Behind, from Love that Left Autumn Behind.


가을을 남기고 떠난 사랑
Love that Left Autumn Behind

가을을 남기고 떠난 사랑
Love that left autumn behind
겨울은 아직 멀리 있는데
But the winter is far away yet
사랑 할수록 깊어가는 슬픔의 눈물은
The tears of sorrow that deepens as I love
향기로운 꿈이었나
Were they a fragrant dream
당신의 눈물이 생각날때
When I recall your tears
기억에 남아있는 꿈들이
The dreams remaining in my memory,
눈을 감으면 수많은 별이 되어
When I close my eyes, will turn into countless stars
어두운 밤 하늘에 흘러가리
And flow in the dark night sky


아 그대 곁에 잠들고 싶어라
Oh how I wish to sleep by your side
날개를 접은 철새처럼
Like a migratory bird with folded wings
눈물로 쓰여진 그 편지는
The letter written with tears
눈물로 다시 지우렵니다
I will erase again with tears
내 가슴에 봄은 멀리 있지만
Though to my heart, spring is far away
내 사랑 꽃이 되고 싶어라
How my love wishes to be a flower

아 그대 곁에 잠들고 싶어라
Oh how I wish to sleep by your side
날개를 접은 철새처럼
Like a migratory bird with folded wings
눈물로 쓰여진 그 편지는
The letter written with tears
눈물로 다시 지우렵니다
I will erase again with tears
내 가슴에 봄은 멀리 있지만
Though to my heart, spring is far away
내 사랑 꽃이 되고 싶어라
How my love wishes to be a flower

Translation Note:  The words "migratory bird" loses all poetic meaning in English and turns into a clunker that weighs down the romance of the song.

In 15 Words or Less:  Korea's first pop star.

Maybe she should have been ranked higher because...  Patti Kim debuted in 1958. Just think about how old your parents were in 1958. And she is still going strong to this day as a septuagenarian.

Maybe she should have been ranked lower because...  Did she do a single musically special thing that lived beyond the prime of her career?

Why is this artist special?
For people who like to indulge in imagining a post-apocalyptic world, Korea in the 1950s was a close approximation. Korea began the 20th century as an extremely poor and backward country, followed by 36 years of brutal and exploitative imperial rule. After a short-lived run after the liberation, it would enter into a civil war that was as much a total war as any other war in modern history.

When the Korean looks at Patti Kim's career, a single number arrests his sight and does not let go: 1958. Only five years after the war that leveled everything and killed or wounded around four million people. Four million lives. Can you even imagine that? Just for a frame of reference, right now Japan is (rightly) receiving an outpouring of international support after its horrific earthquake, which had a toll of around 25,000 dead/wounded/missing people. In the wake of an utter, total destruction, how does it make sense to hope?

More pertinently, how does it make sense to hope that one would make a career as a singer? Remember, "pop stars" did not exist in Korea in the 1950s. Heck, "pop culture" did not exist in Korea. There were some popular singers, but their status was roughly equal to clowns at a traveling carnival in modern day America -- entertainers, yes, but not rich and not respected. Few Koreans of the 1940s grew up dreaming to be a star. Most probably did not know what that meant. Which makes Patti Kim's artistic career all the more remarkable.

Born as Kim Hye-Ja, Kim began her career as a singer for the U.S. military stationed in Korea. She took the stage name of "Patti" for Patti Page, one of the hottest names in American pop music scene at the time. In fact, they bear a fleeting resemblance to each other:


Kim continued her career by becoming an exclusive singer for the club at what is now the Westin Chosun Hotel in Seoul. Since then, Patti Kim's career was nothing but pioneering and trailblazing. She was the first Korean pop singer to be invited by NHK broadcasting studio of Japan for a concert. She was also the first Korean pop singer to hold a concert at the Carnegie Hall. She appeared on Tonight Show by Johnny Carson. And she continues to chug along, still holding concerts at 72-year-young. Although she did not really break any grounds as a musician -- someone else composed nearly all of her songs -- her stage presence is reported to be legendary.

Given the strength of Korea's pop culture worldwide, it is amazing to think that its roots trace back to a USO show or a dark nightclub of a hotel. But that is so, and Patti Kim was in the middle of it.

Interesting trivia 1:  Patti Kim's song Parting [이별] is rumored to be one of Kim Jong-Il's favorite songs.

Interesting trivia 2:  This turned up in the Korean's research and he couldn't not share.


Look at that scandalous cleavage!! In Korea of 1960s!! (Source)

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
The Korean previously wrote about ethnic niche businesses -- for example, apparently Koreans are prevalent in the donut stores around Dallas/Ft. Worth area. An interesting New York Times article discusses the same idea in New York:
For generations, sociologists have been studying the way immigrant groups gravitate to such pursuits and professions. In New York lately, Filipinos and West Indians dominate nursing. South Koreans have a lock on fruit stands, delis and nail salons, while Afghans have established themselves as the city’s fried-chicken and coffee-cart kings. In the past, ethnic niches have been so distinctive that speaking of a Jewish social worker or an Irish cop seemed a redundancy. In the late 1970s, a Greek luncheonette that seemed to serve mostly “cheezborger, cheezborger” became a running skit on “Saturday Night Live.”
In a Deadly Bus Crash, an American Tale [New York Times]
This Jalen Rose-Grant Hill thing is still going strong. An interesting point from Ethan Strauss, a writer for ESPN:
I’m indicting my fellow white writers here. When sports spawn racial controversies, our conveyor belt churns out one of the two responses:

1. LeBarryBrondsism: “I’m mad at a black athlete and race is NOT a factor here! I know that because I’m incensed enough to speak out on this issue. Race couldn't have influenced my aggrieved opinion because then I’d feel icky, possibly guilty, maybe even introspective. Too angry for that! So don’t play any tricky 'race card' games with my head!”

2. Bunker (Grant) Hill: “This is a very, very, sensitive topic. I’m too frightened to publicly speak on the matter. Maybe I’ll say the wrong thing? Oh wow, I know what to do! I won’t take sides, and I won’t posit opinions. Instead, I’ll sagely bellow, 'These are very important issues and we need a rich debate!' The declaration will be followed by the medieval trumpet noise that kicks off all great jousts.Then, I’ll stop paying attention save for retweeting columns from pontificating black journalists.”

So, white sports writers live in a world where race is either “not a factor,” or not worth commenting on. It’s a much easier planet to navigate, no? But, the path of least resistance rarely helps anybody save for maybe the path taker.
Grant Hill was Wrong [ESPN.com]
Holy cow, YB. Shades of Jo Yong-Pil in this performance. (Start at 1:50 mark.)

A Retrospective on Identity: State of a Gyopo at Age 30



Thirty is probably the age that causes the most trepidation among Koreans. Thirty means much more than the pressures for a job and marriage from your parents. It is an occasion for a deep reflection about your life. It is not a coincidence that one of the most iconic Korean pop songs is titled "Around Thirty." For Koreans around thirty, Kim Gwang-Seok's soft voice, singing "Another day drifted away/Like exhaled smoke," rings truer than ever.

Confucius said that thirty is the age at which he established himself. By saying this, Confucius is not simply saying that you should move out of the basement of your parents' home by the time you are 30. He means that by 30, you should have a good idea of who you are. You should establish yourself, your identity.

Today, I turn 30 years old. Also, I have lived in America for 13 and a half years. Given that I spent the first few years of my life in Korea without much awareness, I would say the time I spent in Korea and the time I spent in America are approximately equal. All this makes a great time for me to reflect on how I came to establish my own identity as a Korean American.

More after the jump.



*               *              *

Strangely enough for a guy who now calls himself "The Korean," I was an odd duck in Korea. Many things that seemingly come naturally to most Koreans never came to me. The biggest oddity about me was -- I liked (and still like) being alone. I enjoy being around good people, but I need the alone time just as much, if not more. I absolutely have no problem eating alone -- a rarity in Korea.

Another oddity about me was that I hated school. Sure, most Korean kids attending middle school and high school hate school, but not like me. I hated school with all-consuming passion. Instead of listening to the teachers, I wrote pages after pages of rage-filled tirade about the numerous flaws of Korean education and how it was ruining me and everyone else in the classroom. I stared into the eyes of the teachers that I deemed undeserving of my respect and talked back. I took many, many whippings for these acts of insolence. My teachers would have loved to expel me if they could.

I was sure I was not going to survive my high school. I mean that literally. My high school, considered one of the best in Korea, averaged a suicide a year. The suicide season started early in 1997. In March, barely three weeks into the new school year, a senior of my school killed himself by jumping out of his classroom, falling about seven stories and landing right outside my classroom on the ground floor. It was my sixteenth birthday.

My parents had a hell of a time trying to get me to tough it out, to accept my lot. But privately, they must have known what I was thinking. When they mentioned the possibility of moving to America, I replied: "I will go even if I have to earn my own way." So that was settled. That same November, we were in America. I couldn't have been happier.

I so desperately wanted to become American. I began by learning English as quickly as possible. I won't belabor this point, since the readers of this blog are generally familiar with that story. I also immediately took to many American habits. I got a driver's license as soon as possible, and I loved driving. To this day, I love driving to a degree that I prefer sitting in traffic than being in a moving subway. I adopted the local sports teams -- my beloved Lakers and Dodgers -- and began following them religiously. I also began my ridiculous soda drinking habit, knocking off several cans a day. (Only recently did I switch to sparkling water, and I go through a whole case in a week.)

As I integrated into America, my Korea-hate reached its fullest. Everything America was, Korea was not. I expanded the vitriol I had against Korean schools to the entire Korean society. Any remotely legitimate reason for which Korea could be hated, I pounced with glee. Korea's sexism was a retch-inducing force that reduced women into surgery-enhanced dolls. Korea's racism was a ridiculous hypocrisy, simultaneously whining about any discrimination against Koreans while sneeringly looking down on blacks and Latinos. Korea's collectivist culture was a crutch for the weak-minded, an indication of people who cannot think for themselves. Standing alone, each of these criticisms may have been legitimate. But put together, they said more about me than about Korea. I hated "Korea" -- in quotation marks because, at that point, it was not even a real country but a particularly odious collection of thoughts and behaviors in my mind -- to a degree that I began to hate my friends (those back in Korea as well as Korean-American ones at my school,) my family and finally myself.

Of course, I did not completely hate them, or myself. It is not as if I cut off all contacts with other Koreans, which would have included my parents, and tried to Michael-Jackson my skin tone. No, the hatred was more like a simmering cauldron of volatile chemicals, bubbling up and bursting unpredictably at the slightest external stimuli. They were in the forms of pointed remarks to the parents that I would not be providing for them when they could not work any more. Or the cutting rebuke at those Korean Americans around me who could not (and in my estimation, would not) master English, when I could in two years. Or the times when I insisted that our family would eat out at some place other than the same goddamn Korean restaurant that we always go to, knowing full well that my father will have a hell of a time just reading the menu, much less enjoy the meal.

Looking back, I am so embarrassed by just how stupid I was.

*                *                *

In the summer of 2003, after I finished my junior year in college, I spent three months in Korea. I wanted to start preparing for applying to law schools, and legal internships came easier in Korea where my family still maintained a strong network of connections. I had visited Korea a few times between 1996 and 2003, but not like the way I was in Korea in the summer of 2003. Previously, I was a tourist. This time, I was a member of the society. I had a job, income and real obligations to other people. 

And the ease with which I again assumed the membership of the society was remarkable. The six years in America -- the six years spent desperately trying to scrub off what seemed like an impurity -- did not result in much damage to my Korean side after all. The whole Joy Luck Club stuff -- in which the "natives" supposedly could immediately identify you as a foreigner from the way you walk and, I don't know, throw rocks at you or something -- never happened to me. I strolled my old neighborhood just like the way I strolled it a thousand times. I met and hung out with all my old friends. I effortlessly ingratiated myself to my sunbaes, drinking, chatting and laughing. I went out on dates with girls and had a great time.

The full impact of my summer in Korea would hit me only after I came back to the U.S. I really do not want to borrow the tired cliches of racial minority narrative -- the "confusion of the two identities" and all that stuff -- but cliches are repeated for a reason. One moment, I screeched against Korea. The next moment, I blended into Korea. Then the next moment, I am back in America as if nothing ever happened in the last three months. Did that really just happen? Am I still me, if I changed so radically depending on where I was?

Ever had a moment in your childhood when suddenly, you are very aware of your tongue? You had your tongue for your whole life, but suddenly, you are aware of its every little movement. It is a part of you, and it never leaves you. And it drives you crazy because of exactly that. My senior year in college had a dazed, surreal quality to it because I was suddenly aware of the full contours of my identity and its every little twitching movement. Every time I tried to concentrate on something, the other I would haunt me, making me -- the concentrating me -- think about what the other I would be doing instead. To function normally, I had to negotiate a truce between me and myself. I -- we -- started with reading, the reliable charm that had always guided me through confusion. I read books, and I could confirm to myself that I did not have multiple identities, only multiple dimensions.

I began to settle down. I condensed my experience into an application essay, and moved onto law school. I was 23 years old.

*                 *                 *

What happened in the last seven years? Nothing much, as far as my identity was concerned, other than continuing to settle down. More important things of life took over instead. I studied in law school and I got a job. I worked 80 hours a week. I weathered the storm of the financial crisis that did not spare the lawyers. I met a girl who came to America at age 14, who did not have to be explained all this because she already knew. We got married, and moved out of New York City. We speak English at home, but speak Korean to our parents. Our dinners alternate between rice and pastas. We go to a Korean church but attend the English service. We agree that we will continue living in America, but our children will receive a full-blown Korean-style Tiger Parenting.

This identity thing -- it's tough, man. White people should feel lucky that they won't have to go through this stuff, this constant doubt of self. Just look at the way it is still bothering Jalen Rose and Grant Hill, and both Jalen Rose and Grant Hill are successful millionaires. I am fortunate to have lived a materially comfortable and emotionally happy life. I am also lucky that the foundations of both of my identities were equally strong. I can't imagine dealing with this while being poor and unhappy. Nor can I quite picture myself dealing with the much greater challenge that face the majority of Korean Americans -- who, in some cases, have lost every bit of Korean-ness but for their black hair, slanted eyes and their name on the adoption papers that they cannot even read. I thank heavens for my good fortune, and I try to help out other Korean Americans with what little I can. That has been one of the most rewarding aspects of having this blog, something that started as a way to kill time in law school. It gives me the energy to keep writing even though now I no longer have much time to myself anymore.

When I was about to get married, my aunt -- one of the wisest persons I know -- gave me this advice, which I now give to all my friends who are close to getting married: "Make a list of things you absolutely cannot let go. Important, petty, it doesn't matter. After you have that list, give up on everything else." For me, the list included books, video games, poker, sports on TV and driving to work. And though it may be still early, my marriage is going swell.

That advice applies to other things as well. Just focus on the biggest things, and forget about everything else. I don't bother too much with the identity question anymore, not because it does not matter, but because I don't try to answer everything. There are many important questions for which we will never have an answer. We do not have to answer them all, because there are even more important things in life. Take comfort in the fact that God knows the answers to them all, and at the end of days, we will have all eternity to ask questions.

I am at peace with my identity because I do know the answers to the questions that are the most important to me. They are: Am I Korean? Am I American? Do I have to choose between one or the other? And the answers are: Yes, Yes and No. That's all I need, and I forget everything else. Like a good marriage, it is what I do for a healthy union of selves. I am no Confucius, but at age 30, I have established myself as a Korean American.

(p.s. Thank you everyone who wished me well, on Facebook and otherwise. I feel very special.)

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

Homefront: Too Scared to Offend China

Dear Korean,

I just wanted to share with you a concern I have about a particular video game I played, called Homefront. . It's basically an alternative view of reality where North Korea unified both North and South when Kim Jong-Il died and his son took over. The thing that concerns me is its portrayal of North and South Korea. It sort of views South Koreans as some sort of evil people capable of overtaking the world or something. I wouldn't think that South Korea would even think about harming an American citizen, much less agree to harming Americans as a whole. I think as part Korean, I'm a bit offended by this game and its message, but I wanted to ask you what you think? My view and thoughts of South Korean is that that they don't want nothing but the best for Americans and I'm a bit surprised that the developers of this game would think that they would take a different stance.

Daniel A.


The short answer is: the Korean does not think much about the game at all. This is a good place where one of the Korean's life principles works very well -- that is, "worry about what reasonable people think, and forget about what unreasonable people think." No reasonable person would let this affect his/her perception of the actual nation of Korea. Besides, even within the game's setup, South Korea is portrayed as overtaken by North Korea anyway. Let's not worry about things that do not matter.



The only thing that the Korean might find offensive about Homefront is the highly likely possibility of totally butchered Korean language in the game, but that's just him and his own peculiarities. First person shooter is not the Korean's game, so he won't be finding it out at any rate.

A few notes about Homefront:

- As expected, this game created a small controversy in Korea, especially because an executive of the game company THQ said, through its sinking of ROKS Cheonan, North Korea had been "really cooperative" in selling the game's world, and he "really appreciate[d] the regime in North Korea for supporting Homefront the way they have." Obviously he was joking, but it is still pretty tone-deaf to joke about an attack that killed 46 people less than five months previous.

- The game is currently banned from Korea, but not because of the reason you are thinking. It is not selling in Korea because it was never submitted to the Game Rating Board of Korea to receive a rating. Of course, the Korean thinks there is a solid chance that it would not receive a good rating (say, 13-years-old and up so that it could sell more) even if the game is submitted, but that's just speculation.

- Is Homefront even remotely possible? The game's plot works mightily toward creating a shred of plausibility, but it is pretty laughable to anyone who knows anything about North Korea. Right now, North Korea would not even be able to handle South Korea even if South Korea voluntarily submitted itself to North Korean rule. Also, apparently the decline of America through dramatically reduced supply of oil is a big factor in Homefront. This is doubly stupid because (1) South Korea depends on foreign petroleum to a much, much greater degree than the U.S. (as South Korea imports 100 percent of its fuel,) and (2) South Korea's economy is hugely dependent on its export to the U.S. 

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
The principle that idiocy knows no national boundaries was again confirmed in the reactions to the tragedy caused by Japan's earthquake -- in Korea, idiots on the Internet celebrated Japan's earthquake, and in America, some idiots on the Internet thought Japan was getting its payback for Pearl Harbor attacks.

But the king of all idiots in this parade is Tokyo's Governor Shintaro Ishihara, who said the earthquake was a "divine retribution" for Japan's politics. Let's see if the bar can get any lower.

The Korean is Now on Twitter -- in Korean

To be honest, the Korean is a Luddite when it comes to social networking sites. It took this blog more than 3 years to get a Facebook page, only after many proddings from the readers about getting a Facebook account.

And then, there is this whole Twitter thingamajigger. The Korean avoided it as long as he could, but the same problem as Facebook happened with Twitter -- there are so many people on it, and some of the people on it are pretty darn interesting. But the Korean cannot just have a Twitter account just to follow people.

The Korean's solution:  The Korean's Twitter account will be entirely in Korean (except for proper nouns and the like,) and it will be mostly about his little personal thoughts. Following the Korean on Twitter will NOT give you the latest updates of this blog, because the Korean is not going bother with it. And don't even think about suggesting the Korean the programs that will link Facebook, Blogger and Twitter together unless you want to see his head explode.

Right now, the over/under for how long this Luddite would keep this up is ... oh, let's say a week. Until then, you can follow the Korean at www.twitter.com/askakorean.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.