Christina p.11-17
So by suddenly changing to South
Korean citizenship, it was probably only natural that my father, who'd
by then betrayed the Soren, couldn't help but take an interest in my uncle
living in the North. My father'd never been there, and by changing his
nationality, wouldn't be able to go from then on. So he couldn't meet with
my uncle, not ever again. Neither of them is young anymore.
My dad raised a lot of money - I mean a lot
of money - and bought a 3-ton truck to send to him. Because we had gotten
a letter from him once, saying that if he could get a truck, he'd become
something like the head honcho of the town. My dad had attached a letter
along with the truck -one saying that he'd become South Korean. Since then,
no letters come from my uncle.
At about the time when I was in my third year
of middle school, my father and mother (South Korean) flew together to
Hawaii. Aloha.
The entryway to our house is decorated with
this huge framed picture of him wearing a lei made of hibiscus around his
neck, being kissed on the cheeks by this dark-skinned beauty joined to
him at the hip. He's grinning widely, and flashing the peace sign. By the
way, it's with both hands - double peace. What an ass.
Me?
Finally, I can tell my story. Not my father's,
not my mother's - my story.
I didn't go to Hawaii.
Why?
Born a child of parents with North Korean
citizenship and myself being a Zainichi North Korean, I began to realize
that for as long as I could remember, I'd been taught that Hawaii was a
'symbol of decadent capitalism'. Raised surrounded by books with the names
of Marx, Lenin, Trotsky, and Che Guevara written on their spines, I realized
that I was going to and from a so-called North Korean school that was actually
nationalist, run by the Soren, and there I was being taught that America
was an enemy country, pure and simple.
And yet, for all that, there was no reason
for me to have been indoctrinated with communist ideas. North Korea, Marx,
the Soren, the North Korean school and America - none of them were any
of my concern. I had accepted an environment where I had no choices; I
just went on living. Since these were surroundings where I didn't understand
the reasoning behind anything, it was only natural that I turned out to
be so bad. Don't you think it would've been stranger if I hadn't?
I was raised as the brat kid of a perfect
bastard, and even when he changed his citizenship to Korean, I resisted
my father. It didn't really have anything to do with his change of nationality,
but, in small things, quietly, I had no intention of giving in.
One day when I was in my second year of middle
school, and spring break was almost over, my dad forced me take a ride
in the car. Even though I asked where we were going, my dad, without answering,
just quietly drove from the center of the city towards Kanagawa. 'Here.
He could kill me maybe….' I thought so. He had a light weight pro-boxing
past and had even placed in Japanese rankings - your basic hit first, talk
later type. I don't know how many times that I -the brat kid -had done
something so bad - police bad -- that I'd been beaten half to death by
him.
I was planning my strategy of escape from
the car when we got to where we were going. It was the Tsujidou coast of
Shonan. "We're here. C'mon."
After stopping the car on the path that ran
along the beach, Dad said this and walked toward the shore. In my head,
for a fraction of a second, he pulled my face toward the ocean, and in
my suffering, the reflection of myself getting drowned flashed across my
mind. But, since I didn't feel any murderous intent coming from his back,
for the moment I continued looking around.
My dad, paying no attention to me, quickly
walked toward the sand dunes and sat down heavily in some spot he found
suitable, facing the ocean. I eyed the distance of his reach and plopped
down where he couldn't get to me. Right there, on his right. He was left-handed.
As evening drew near, he was just quiet, staring
blankly at the ocean of early spring. I was looking at a high-school aged
girl who'd brought her Golden Retriever for a walk. She was pretty cute,
and when her gaze met mine, she smiled with a start. I, too, had felt a
bit jarred and as I thought that maybe I should smile, too, I felt a murderous
rage coming from my left. I cursed my own carelessness. My father's hands
had at some point reached toward me, 'Just like this, he'll kill me' In
the instant I thought so, he hit my head with a rap. "Take a good look"
Having just escaped from death, for the moment
I did like my dad had said, and returned my gaze to the ocean. And then,
after some minutes had passed, my father, muttering as if to himself, said,
'it would've been better if the ocean were prettier' then turned his eyes
to me and fixed me with a steady gaze. It was terrible. His eyes were so
truthful. He had been injured in his boxing days, and there was a cut about
2 inches long in the corner of his eye that had become a little red. I
felt a bit startled, laughed, and as I thought I should just calm down,
my father said in a clear voice "Look at this wide-open world…. Then you
can decide things for yourself."
It was just that. After he said it, he got
up brusquely and left the dunes.
I didn't think he was doing anything too sappy.
I was a brat, but at the same time, I was a romantic, too. And when I heard
'wide open world' it quickened my pulse.
For a while, I kept sitting, watching the
ocean. It was so wide - so big. The moon rose, the sun sank down. A boat
floated on top of the water. I want to go - see other places - countries….
So with that, I gave in. I had gone along
with my dad's sappy way of doing things but that wasn't the only reason.
All the while confined in an environment where I had no choice, for me
that was the first choice I'd made. North Korea, South Korea. They were
a terribly narrow range of options but for me there was the right to choose.
It was the first time I'd had the feeling of being a proper human.
I'd agreed to change my Korean citizenship,
but nixed going to Hawaii. Instead, I asked that the travelling expenses
it would have taken to go be used for something else. "For what?" my father
asked
I answered clearly "I'll take the Japanese
high school entrance exam. Use it for that."
It was normal then for most students who'd
entered a North Korean school to continue on up like they're on an escalator
- just like that, from high school, to university... My father: "What's
wrong with you? Why so sudden?"
From one day to the next, I'd changed from
a 'Zainichi-North Korean to a 'Zainichi South Korean'. But nothing in my
self was changed. I didn't change. It was tedious. Now, in front of my
eyes, there were countless choices. I became aware of this.
I again answered clearly. 'I'm looking at
the wide open world'
While a strange smile played at his lips, as though
he were happy, or maybe like he was troubled, he said, 'Do what you want.'
So in this way, I quit being 'Zainichi North
Korean,' took off from my small circle at the national school, and made
the choice to fly toward the 'wide open world'. But even that choice was
quite severe.
Bruce Springsteen - a rock star born and raised
in a poor working-class family - sang the song "Born in the U.S.A." It
goes like this--
Born down in
a dead man's town
The first kick
I took was when I hit the ground
You end up like a
dog that's been beat too much
Till you spend half
your life just covering up.
Born in the
U.S.A.
I was born in
the U.S.A.
He must have had it rough.
I was raised in a pretty wealthy family, but
I really do get what Springsteen was feeling. If I were to sing it, it'd
go like this-
Born set in a
rich country
The first kick
I took was dad beating on me
Spent most my
life doing fine, well enough
But when I'm
down I'm like a dog that's been beat too much.
Born in Japan
I was born in
Japan
So. I was born.
In Japan
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