Two highly intelligent friends have asked me why I am so “into” retaining my connection to Korean culture rather than simply accepting the fact that I am part of the American melting pot. “Because I was raised by a first generation Korean woman,” I reply. When your mother is born in a foreign country, you can’t help but be exposed to her culture. You metabolize it. It becomes a part of you—half of you, really. When that parent eventually dies, that connection to the original country is weakened and risks becoming lost. It is up to you, the American-born child, to preserve that thread.
My connection to Korea and motherhood began shortly after coming home from the hospital after having given birth to my daughter. My Korean mother, who had come to stay with us a week before my due date to help out with the new baby, insisted that I be fed seaweed soup—an unctuous pork broth containing slippery pieces of kelp—to replenish the iron I had lost from the birth and to facilitate milk production. Being in fog of painkillers those first few days (I had had a C-Section), I drank the soup willingly and found the taste to be not unpleasant. The broth did seem to help me regain my vitality quickly. My mother explained to me that all Korean women drink seaweed soup after giving birth: it’s an age-old tradition that generations of Korean women have handed down to their own daughters. After having imbibed this mysterious soup, I felt that I had become a part of this tradition.
For the past year, Kimchi Mamas has been instrumental in helping me connect to my Korean roots, which are held tenuously in place only because of my Korean-born mother. My father is Caucasian. I was born in California. I neither speak nor understand Korean. I have Korean relatives living in Korea, but I haven’t seen them since 1980. I have a Korean cousin (and, by now, hapa second cousins) living in L.A., but, sadly, have not seen them in more than a decade.
My mother (who’s now called “Halmoni” more frequently than “Mom”) is my only true connection to Korea. And because I am her only offspring, I feel strongly compelled to keep this bond alive. I want to hold tightly to the Korean traditions I’ve learned from her, to memorize her stories, to learn the superstitions, to sing the lullabies, and to prepare the cuisine. I want to absorb her sensibilities and ensure that those feelings are passed down to my own daughter. Kimchi Mamas has served as a constant reminder that I am connected to my Korean roots. And now that I am a mother, honoring and maintaining this connection has become more important than ever.
--Twizzle
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