Kimchi Mamas

Musings on Death

I recently watched Dear My Friends on Netflix. It’s a Korean Drama series about a group of elderly friends, mostly women, and their daily struggles with friendship, love, health, and family. All the important things. I found myself alternating between laughter and tears in a matter of seconds. Laughing and crying and laughing and crying. The writing is exquisite but the translation is shit so #sorrynotsorry.

Anyway, I was reminded how much Koreans talk about death. Especially the older folks. My mom has started, in the last few years, to say things like:

• It’d be better if I die soon.
• Old people just need to die.
• I need to die soon.
• People should just die when they get to a certain age.

If we weren’t Korean, I’d think that she needed to be on suicide watch. But this is very normal and common for older Korean folks to say. (All the while taking every vitamin or supplement under the sun to be as healthy as possible.)

Death and comedy seems an odd pair but the show does it so well. In one plotline, a woman gets cancer and is talking to her friend about it, who has already had her battle with cancer. The conversation is so so sad and serious, with them discussing who should be the one to tell the daughter. But there are some hilariously funny moments too with the friend suggesting that all their virtuous chastity and faithfulness to their husbands has been for shit and that they should “give it away generously to anyone who wants it” from now on. Then, they lament that no one would stand in that line even if they were giving it away for free. There is an abundance of Korean cussing which adds to the hilarity.

I used to think it was morbid when I heard older Korean folks talk about death but now I think it’s somewhat healthy. By talking about it casually, there is more opportunity for everyone to think about their own mortality. And to prepare, in ever subtle ways, for the inevitable.

- Mary

Midlife?

Hi there Kimchi Mamas!!! How are things going?

Things are going alright here in the Choi family. I turned 40 this year and I kind of am really liking the older me. I feel so mature! Can you tell?

 

 

So mature! Right? =)

In all seriousness, I actually do feel like I am just barely starting to get this thing called life. And by "get" I don't mean that I have figured it out and have the solution to all of life's problems and have unlocked the secret to happiness. No. I do not have any keys to happiness here. And yet, I do feel a smidgen of self confidence and maybe a sprinkle of faith and a sliver of hope, that no matter what happens, that I will be ok.

And I know shit happens.

The Search for Back-up Parents

Nothing has brought me closer to death than giving birth.

Before I had my son, I thought about death, but only occasionally, the way I assume most others do. It was there in the abstract, off in the distance, never threatening, never looming. Like a distant cousin, it reminded me of its existence every once in a while, when I happened to pass an accident on the freeway or read a novel with tragic ending, which in turn reminded me to live more purposefully, meaningfully. But apart from its occasional pep talk, it had little to do with me.

Back then, I didn't fear death. If anything, I felt cavalier. So what, I remember saying. What do I have to lose? My life was my own, and I was beholden to no one. If something were to happen to me, a few others may be sad or even devastated, but I didn't own their grief. I was the only one who could potentially suffer, but not really because wouldn't I be dead after all? Just make it quick and don't let me suffer too much, was my canned retort.

A Piece of Korean Romance

When people think of the world's greatest tragic romances, they may conjure up Romeo and Juliet, Rhett and Scarlet, or Cathy and Heathcliff.  However, I hope after this, people will also think of Eung-Tae Lee and his widow.

In 1998, South Korean archaeologists found the mummified remains of Eung-Tae Lee, who died in 1586, buried with one of the saddest, most romantic letters I have ever read, written by his widow.  Here's just a small snippet: (hat tip to Letters of Note...seriously, folks, it is the best blog out there right now.)

How did you bring your heart to me and how did I bring my heart to you? Whenever we lay down together you always told me, "Dear, do other people cherish and love each other like we do? Are they really like us?" How could you leave all that behind and go ahead of me?

So long ago, and she was so distraught, she could easily have jumped off the nearest Lover's Leap to rejoin her love.  But she didn't!  She had to raise their son, and here's the dramatic twist...SHE WAS PREGNANT WITH THEIR SECOND!!!  So instead of completely succombing to her grief, she cut off her hair, weaved her locks into one last pair of sandals for her husband, and buried them with him!  Even Sophocles and Shakespeare couldn't come up with a gesture more poignant than that.  Le sigh.

Romance, it's in our blood, Kimchi brothers and sisters, and for much longer than "Winter Sonata" has been on syndication.  Now go forth and woo.

--Julie

 

Book Review - Escape from Camp 14

Disclosure: I got a free copy of this book to review.

Escape from Camp 14 written by Blaine Harden tells the true story of how Shin Dong Hyuk broke out of a brutal labor camp in North Korea, eventually making his way to the USA. Complete with maps and drawings, Blaine makes it easy for the reader to picture this harrowing story. I heard Shin Dong Hyuk speak at an event in Stanford before so his story was not new to me. However, reading about the details made it so much more real.

Born inside Camp No. 14 Shin Dong Hyuk was the product of a marriage that was itself a form of reward, a reward reserved for prisoners who modeled "good" behavior such as snitching on fellow prisoners. He survived by doing whatever he could to secure food. He grew up to be the model snitch, not even thinking twice to snitch on his own family.

This book provides an accurate and horrifying look into North Korea's infamous labor camps. A hopeless world where humans become driven by hunger and hunger alone. Where affection does not exist. Yet even in such a bleak place, compassion comes at unexpected times. 

Goodbye Halmoni

My grandmother had six children. A boy, and then a girl, and then another boy, and then another girl, and then another boy, and then another girl. My dad was the middle boy.

A professor of population studies asked me during a discussion if my grandmother had six children and if my mother had two. I answered yes. Yes and yes. Apparently, Korea had very strict population control and those were the ideal numbers for those days. I was quite dismayed to learn that my family was so typical. The number of cousins and siblings so determined by governmental forces.

Houston, We Have a Problem...and a Confession

To my beloved Kimchi Mamas,

Please do me and our community a favor by reading this short article on self-harm and violence in the Korean American community

I know this seems like a big bummer to post this during the holiday season, but 'tis also the season for a spike in suicides, suicide attempts, and domestic violence.

Does this ring a bell for you at all?  It definitely did for me:

Grace Yoon, executive director of the Korean American Family Service Center in New York, told The Huffington Post that Koreans come to America with high hopes of acquiring wealth and providing a good education for their children. When their expectations are not met, some feel like they have let their families down. Yoon commented that the problem has gotten worse since the recession, "especially with Korean fathers and heads of households whose small businesses are not doing well."

The article goes on to say that the intergenerational language barrier as well as the cultural taboo against seeking mental health services may contribute to the higher-than-average suicide rate in Korean Americans.

---------------------------------------------------------

If this helps anyone at all, I'll just put myself out there as someone who did try to kill herself when she was in the throes of what she now recognizes as a major depressive episode.  

I was 21, feeling exhausted and beaten down, not doing well in school, but instead of seeking help, I just ignored my health and soldiered on, terrified of delaying my graduation by yet another quarter or year.  It got to the point where I stopped talking to my friends and stopped checking in with my parents, unable to keep up the lies when I claimed I was okay.  As I got more and more insular, my whole world consisted of my classes and my inability to attend them, my lack of focus, my inevitable failure.  So a few days before my first finals, hating myself for letting my parents down, they who worked so hard and sacrificed so much so that I could go to a top-notch school, and I couldn't even repay them with simply succeeding, I tried to take my own life.  I honestly thought I was doing them a favor, relieving a burden.

I was so, so lucky that my attempt was feeble at best, and my roommate was in the apartment.

After that, I was hospitalized for a week.  For some reason, I had this stereotype against psychiatry and didn't consider it a fully-valid field of medicine.  I could not have been more wrong.  Thanks to the medication, counseling, and support I received then and afterwards, I finally graduated from university.  My grade point average was barely enough to scrape past, and my department might or might not have overlooked a single missing requirement, but I did it.  And my life instantly became easier once I stepped foot outside that damn campus and moved on with my life.

Did I at 21 have even the tiniest correct inkling about how life after college would be like?  Absolutely not!  My instincts and intuition that I relied on so heavily turned out to be completely off; I think it was because I was completely biased to see only the negative.  That's what depression does; it skews your outlook on everything to just remember the negative and completely ignore the positive, and that small shift in perspective is what makes depression so dangerous.  It was actually quite a relief to discover that my "lenses" were off and needed readjusting.  

The turning point for me was my dad tearfully telling me that he would rather have a non-college-graduate daughter than no daughter at all.  That he would have let me crash at home for as long as I needed in order to get back on my feet again.  And that he was truly sorry that it had to come to this for him to tell me that, that this was completely uncharted territory for him, that we would get through this together.  My mom was too overcome with emotion to speak to me then, but as time went on, I came to realize that she felt the same way.  And believe me when I tell you that my parents made the Tiger Mom look like a kitten; that I was pushed very hard all my childhood; and if you had asked me before all this if I truly believed they loved me, I would have a hearty laugh at the mere notion.

But it turned out that my Korean parents, as stoic and strict and cruel and physically punitive as they were, were still parents.  And now they are very demonstrative, nurturing, giving, loving grandparents.  

And now, daily I think to myself, "I'm so relieved I'm not dead.  All the fun I would have missed out on!"

---------------------------------------------------------

If you at any point feel as hopeless as I did that summer, please know that you aren't "crazy," that you are struggling alongside countless others, that there are other solutions besides death, that people love you and are rooting for you, that honest-to-goodness there is light at the end of the tunnel.  Or at the very least, there are enough points of light inside the tunnel to make it worth sticking around to observe.  DO NOT MISS OUT ON THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

Call a friend and tell them you need help, call 1-800-273-8255, go to the emergency room, connect with people online, just don't leave yourself alone with the thoughts you are thinking, the same way you would try to save your friend who is trapped in a house with someone who is trying to kill them.

---------------------------------------------------------

If you got this far, thanks so much for reading.  This was difficult to write.

--Julie

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Please keep South Korea in your thoughts as residents face astonishing amounts of torrential downpour. The resulting floods and mudslides have already killed 38 people in Seoul and the central regions, and the death toll is climbing.  There seems to be a lot of infrastructure damage, so we will keep you posted with ways we can help once things settle down and the full amount of damage is assessed.

Kimchi Mama jooliyah, we hope you and your loved ones are staying dry and staying safe!  Please check in when you can.

Article from the Korea Herald, English edition

Blog post from Koream Magazine

Death and Literacy

I just finished reading Please Look After Mom by Shin Kyung-Sook. It's one of a few Korean books that I've read that's been translated from Korean into English. I think I've actually read more books in Korean. This one was conveniently available to me at the local library and after reading this racist review, I had to check it out for myself. I tried to get a Korean version of it in Garden Grove this past weekend but it was sold out!

The book was a quick weekend read. I did not find myself crying or feeling guilty about mistreating my mom. Rather, I found myself being drawn into the life of this woman who got lost in the city.

(spoiler alert)

The Loss of a Kimchi Mama

For years I have read and sometimes even commented on Kevin Kim's blogs. It is with sadness for him and his family that I report the passing of his mother.

May a Kimchi Mama find peace.

--Angie in Texas