Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine: "I live crying tears of blood"

In various English publications, International Strategy Center (ISC) had a posting inviting up to 10 people to take an overnight historical tour of the “Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine and Site of Civilian Massacre”. This type of tour is totally different than the typical templestay experience, visit a tea plantation and learn about tea ceremony, take a bus to Seoraksan for a color tour or to Haeundae Beach to soak up the rays. I’ve been to Ganghwa Island to see the famous table-top dolmen, have gone to several festivals, and climbed the tallest mountains in most of Korea’s 20 national parks. What really is lacking in a lot of these excursions is the voice of the people—not the voice of the festival participants or the Korean tourists who are traveling somewhere for entertainment, but the voice of the average person who has seen history unfold and is living that history. For that reason, I was quick to sign up to be among the 10 privileged people who would go on the tour.

On October 17 the participants and two leaders from the ISC met at Dong Seoul Bus Terminal, and imagine my surprise to find out only one other person, James a young historian, besides myself, an anthropologist, had signed up. Where were all the people who want a very unique tour rich in history? Are people not signing up because nowadays trips are taken for pleasure and personal entertainment? Shouldn’t mental enrichment also be a drawing factor when choosing a weekend activity? So just the four of us boarded the bus to Gyeongsan. While the hard-working ISC volunteers slept, James and I read the provided literature on the mine—all of it related to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Korea and published in 2010.

Choi Seung Ho, publisher and president of Gyeongsan Sinmoon, met us at the bus terminal and became our guide. Choi is a pillar in the community, knowing and shaking hands with everyone; a dedicated man—according to a 2010 영남일보 위클리포유—who had educated more than 500 people in night-schools in the preceding 20 years. He is not related to the bereaved family members of the mine massacre but takes a very philosophical stance on why he wants exposure to what we learned was hidden history in the Truth and Reconciliation articles. “The last thing I can do for our children [future generations] is to give them their history, even if it is a shameful past,” he said. So before going to the mine itself, he gave us historical setting context to the mine massacre story by showing us the cobalt extraction site 1.5 kilometers away.

In the late 1930s the Japanese used Korean labor to mine the gold and silver in the mine, but with the discovery of cobalt and cobalt being useful for strengthening steel necessary for war munitions, cobalt became the more valued object of the mine. In 1945 the mine was shut down with the expulsion of the Japanese from Korea. Right after the onset of the Korean War, from July to September 1950, political prisoners were brought to the mine, beaten, shot, burned with flame-throwers, and thrown down the mine shaft, which was then dynamited to obscure evidence. I’ve read since that the largest civilian massacres occurred on the sites of former Japanese occupation.

The mine is kept locked to keep ghost-seekers out and to preserve the evidence. Already two excavations have taken place and bones for 400 or so people have been removed, but with the 3,500 people reported victims of the massacre, more than 3,000 are yet unaccounted for. Unfortunately, excavations are expensive and the bereaved families poor. Bags and bags of dirt with bone fragments and teeth line the inside of the mine, waiting for funding to further the excavation. Beneath the shaft where the largest number of bones have been excavated so far, the mud is oily with yellow adipose, even now, 65 years later. A trailer not far from the entrance stores several boxes of bones while the greater number are refrigerated for preservation at a research lab until funding can be obtained to continue the excavation. Bereaved families don’t know if their family members have been excavated yet, and DNA testing is too expensive, so they wait to excavate all before giving all wandering spirits a soul-cleansing ceremony to bid them cease their wanderings. But there is no money, no discussion, and no reconciliation. Therefore, there is no closure for the mine victims and for the bereaved families by extension.

As one Truth and Reconciliation article pointed out, “During the military dictatorships and repressive regimes of President Rhee Syngman, General Chun Doo-hwan, and President Park Chung-hee, these atrocities were kept secret,” and bereaved family members who organized in the 1960s were imprisoned. Korea has had a long history of guilt-by-association so for survival the bereaved family members became silent.

In 2000 under the presidency of Kim Dae-jung, a special law related to the Cheju Uprising, another Korean War massacre site, was passed and all bereaved families members were finally encouraged and invited to register as such. This registry as I understand it was only open for one year and has never been opened since. It is estimated that only 10% of the bereaved families registered for fear of continued guilt-by-association consequences that they had lived with all of their lives. Guilt-by-association prevented them from being civil servants which therefore discouraged them from studying as jobs opened to the educated were in general not opened to them. 2,500 of those massacred in the cobalt mine were classified broadly as ‘political prisoners’. A ‘political prisoner’ could be someone who spoke out against the ruling party, fed someone who spoke out, or even had money and therefore was viewed as being associated with the moneyed “reds”. Just by having a relative massacred in the mine placed the label of “red” on whole families by extension.

President Roh Mu-hyun allotted funding for excavations and made an apology, officially recognizing the illegal use of power in previous governments. However, this funding was cut short in the Lee Myung-bak presidency and at present the topic of funding or recognition is like a heavy tombstone under the office of Park Guen-hye. Elder daughter of the military dictator-president Park Chung-hee, Park Guen-hye presently seeks to use government office to write and enforce a “Correct History Textbook” in middle and high school classes across Korea. Many historians argue that replacing the current choice of eight textbooks with only one, which they feel will “whitewash” her father’s era of military rule among other historical events, will continue to hide historical truths and events that need to be academically discussed and presented. Korea disputes the Japanese textbooks which Koreans say distort history, and yet the current government is taking steps to change history via textbook also. Franklin P. Jones, 18^th-century publisher, so aptly said, “Perhaps nobody has changed the course of history as much as the historian.” The question asked by many is, if history is distorted and events glossed over, how will future Korean leaders learn the mistakes of the past so as to aim for a better and brighter future?

In the course of the weekend I learned many disturbing things. First, the Internet is almost silent on the Gyeongsan Cobalt MineMassacre. What is published is a few short blog entries on the mine and massacre and a few articles put out by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Korea in 2010. Not much else exists in English. More surprising is the lack of information regarding almost all Korean War civilian massacres in Korea. According to Wikipedia, the list of civilian massacres in North Korea cites one, and in South Korea eighteen; the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Massacre, with its 3,500 victims, is not in the list, and yet, according to Na Jeong-tae, vice-president of the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Bereaved Families Association, 114 such bereaved families associations exist regarding civilian massacres in South Korea. The silence is deafening.

The Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Bereaved Families Association wants reconciliation. They want investigations on the war crimes as to the reasons for the illegal killings; they want their fathers, uncles, brothers or other family members from the massacre to have their names cleared of “red” slurs, and their own tarnished names to be simultaneously restored. They seek funding to finish the excavations and be allowed Confucian respects to ceremoniously bury their relatives. They also want the bereaved families registry to be reopened so other families can join and be bonded through spirit and share in the catharsis of healing together. However, seeing no hope for change at the moment, Na Jeong-tae, who was able to receive only four years of education, said, “I live crying tears of blood.”

I wouldn’t call my weekend exciting and certainly not entertaining, but what I gained from going to the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine was knowledge that most Koreans are not likely to have, especially if the Korean government does not acknowledge its own historical past. I listened to the voice of a marginalized people, and I came away with an understanding of family and truth as being treasured values as opposed to what seems to drive society nowadays: economy and politics. I think I can say that the time spent learning about this obscure history and meeting four members of an effectively silenced group, was one of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had in Korea. Meaningful because people spoke from their hearts about their experiences to survive, and meaningful because they learned to endure despite the pain of being marginalized and emotionally suppressed. I liked feeling their strength because it is this strength from enduring that has built Korea into the nation it is today.

Published on the International Strategy Center website in their World Current Report, Vol 10, October 2015 publication.

Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine: Civilian Massacre Site

The Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine and massacre site is shrouded in a silenced history. Before going there, I had only heard of the infamous Nogunri massacre, the Cheju massacre and the Kwangju massacre. Actually I heard of the Kwangju massacre first because my first year in Korea back in 1991 was in Kwangju, so my fellow colleagues and I saw many demonstrations and battles between demonstrators and demonstration police fighting with stones, bricks taken from the sidewalks, and molatov cocktails. The year in Kwangju was an intense year of watching demonstrations and not fully understanding that, although the people were said to have democracy, they were still fighting for their democratic rights as citizens. The same seems to apply to many of the Korean War massacres. It seems that many times people spoke out against the ruling party and were permanently silenced along with a lot of other sympathizers and non-involved innocent people.

On October 17 and 18, I went to the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine and learned for the first time of the massacre. I also learned that there was shockingly a total of 114 bereaved families associations in South Korea that are registered as having family members were who killed in civilian massacres, mostly at the onset of the Korean War. 114 civilian massacres! What an insanely high number, and these families are still waiting for government recognition so they can have legal assistance in expunging the "red" slurs attached to their murdered family member's name and by extension to their own names.

Choi Seung Ho, publisher and president of the Gyeongsan Sinmoon, met two International Strategy Center volunteers, James a young historian, and myself an anthropologist when we got to Gyeongsan and showed us the cobalt excavation site and then took us 1.5 kilometer distance to the mine and massacre site itself. He narrated the dark history to us. Choi had no family connections to the mine but back when he was a 20-year-old journalist he had been asking questions about the history of the Gyeongsan and then he learned that the rumors he had occasionally heard growing up were actually truth. He found out more, shocked that such a history could exist but not be discussed. Back then, because the topic was so politically sensitive, he had to be careful when he wrote about it or referenced it.

Not much could be said publicly about the mine, but in 2001 there was finally a war criminal tribunal in New York pertaining to the mine along with other massacres around Korea. Choi and a few others went. There, Ramsey Clark, human rights lawyer and former US Attorney General, admitted that the US was responsible for war time operations. In 2003 in Geneva the UN sub-committee on human rights requested an investigation on the Gyeongsan mine site. The Jamaican chair said if both North Korea and South Korea agreed to have an investigation, it could happen, but South Korea refused. In 2009, there was finally recognition by the government of the illegal killings. Compensation was to be allotted to each of the 120 bereaved families with each family receiving approximately 100,000,000won (1억), which is relatively little compensation for the years of being marginalized, disallowed to hold any civil servant positions and carrying the taint of "commy" at work, school, play or wherever. Yet, it is a beginning for healing and acceptance and restoring their murdered relative's name and their own. (The money has been promised but the families still have not received it.)

Remnant Japanese constructions 

Remnant Japanese construction from the cobalt extraction area.

Choi Seung Ho says that the task that now remains is to turn the cobalt mine and the excavation site 1.5 kilometers away into a type of peace park with a museum, which could be the venue of a human rights film festival, and an iconic place to give others in international atrocity sites hope. He said that the mine could be made into a historical site demarking Japanese colonialism, but there is already such a mine, and that mine is well-preserved and doesn't have connotations of a massacre.

The reason Choi Seung Ho was showing us the excavation site and mine is to reveal truth about a shamefully disguised past. He is a scholar, and a seeker of knowledge. He values truth and openness. In his quest for knowledge for himself, he also gives knowledge to others and for the past 20 years has dedicated himself to teaching night-school to locals. In a 2010 newspaper article in the 영남일보 위클리포유, he was reported to have already taught 500 people in night schools. That is dedication. He is dedicated to sharing the silent history of the mine also. "The last thing I can do for our children [future generations] is to give them their history, even if it is a shameful past,” he said. So before going to the mine itself, he gave us historical setting context to the mine massacre story by showing us the cobalt extraction site 1.5 kilometers away.

Choi and a number of local historians and a professor of anthropology showed us the excavation site with its large cement structure for sluicing the rock and floating out the cobalt. One large structure for sluicing water was also a random murder site back in 1985 or 1986. A man was murdered up on the low mountain where the sluice structures still exist, and the murderer, thinking to hide the victim's body, threw it in the sluice whereupon it rolled down to the bottom and was soon discovered by a local. Since that time, that mountain too has taken on connotations of murder and a vengeful ghost so few people ventured up the mountain afterwards.

Part of the sluicing system for water and materials separation.
Also the shaft that a murdered man was thrown down in 1985 or 1986.

The other end of the slicing shaft ... and where the murdered man tumbled and was easily found by a local.

The Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine

The mine is kept locked to prevent kids looking for ghosts out and to preserve the evidence still within. The only people who have keys are Choi and the bereaved families.

At some point in history, the entrance we entered was sealed off with cement, and the mine with its spring of water became a reservoir for water (which I honestly don't want to imagine as the water would be very contaminated by the thousands of dead bodies within). In 2001 the blockage was blasted open. Bones that had been disturbed by the flow of water were lying everywhere, and even today there are pieces of wood washed up in areas, and if someone looks closely, bones will be seen washed up under them. The further we went into the cave, the more yellow and oily the mud became. The oily discoloration is adipose which is still decomposing 65 years later because of the coolness of the mine. The largest number of bones recovered were 150 meters into the mine and directly under the shaft, which had been dynamited closed to obscure evidence.

So far, about 400 people have been accounted for as represented by 800 femurs located. The femur is the hardest bone in the body and therefore disintegrates more slowly than other bones; therefore, counting femurs is the measurement for the body toll accounted for.

The humanitarian and right thing to do is to excavate them and give them a proper send-off to quiet their restless spirits. Burying ancestors within three days upon death is the proper Confucian practice as the ancestors properly buried and given filial respects will look favorably on their descendants and "watch over them" in the unseen role as guardian between the real and the spirit world. The bereaved families have never buried their restless dead who died shameful and ignominious deaths; therefore, the families are also disturbed too by the unrest of their ancestors and want to provide closure to this fruitless time of wandering. However, without money to excavate the bodies and give final respects, the restless spirits and families by extension remain uneasy and disrupted. Although the excavated 400 or so people's remains could be buried, bereaved families don't know if their family member is among the excavated and therefore the local families demand that all of the remains be excavated first and then buried with recognition, recognition that is by the government.

There is no recognition and the funding established by Roo Moo-hyun, the last liberal president, was cut off by President Lee Myung-bak. Choi explained that the Lee Myung-bak and present Lee Guen-hye governments have roots in Japanese colonialism as the police officers, ministers, land owners, politicians were educated in the Japanese occupation period and when the new government was established after the expulsion of the Japanese, these educated and connected people were set in power by the American government which had a kind of military rule from 1945-1948. It is the descendants of these educated people who now are in government office.

Choi Seung Ho explaining the history of the mine and why there are so many bags of dirt inside ... basically, with no funds for further excavation, they must keep the mud until excavation can continue and the mud can be sifted through for teeth, bone fragments and other telling pieces of evidence. 

Sandbags of earth waiting to be sifted through and analyzed. 

A natural underground spring keeps the mine muddy and has effectively over time buried the victims' bodies. The mud is not naturally oily and yellow; that is the adipose that has yet to decompose, even 65 years since the massacre happened.

A Box of Bones

To raise awareness about the silence surrounding the cobalt mine and massacre there, Choi took a box of bones to the Kwangju Biennale 2015. People were shocked that the bones would be displayed and shocked that such a history unspoken about existed in South Korea. They wanted to know why the bones hadn't yet been buried, but Choi explained that families want to know that their dead and dishonored family member is peacefully buried and that can only happen if all persons involved are buried and that the government recognizes this burial.

He explained the dynamics of the illegal killings. The people killed in the massacre site were killed without trial. The majority (about 2,500) were political prisoners who had been detained, but prisons were overflowing with political prisoners, and it was feared if the political prisoners were freed, they would join the forces of the North, so they were illegally brought to the mine and killed. Among these "political prisoners" were people who had fed or clothed someone considered to be a "red". Others were thrown in the middle by just being in the wrong place at the right time, or just by innocent association.

The "red scare" was prevalent and stigmatizing to those labeled. Families who had a member who was killed in the massacre were determined to be "guilty by association" and were tainted with "red" labeling, resulting in being watched. Therefore, they were not allowed to travel overseas. They could not hold any kind of government office, which means they could not be civil servants, about the only job an educated person could have back in the developing years of Korea's economic growth, the 1950's, 60s, 70s, and 80s certainly. As a result, parents did not tell their children about relatives that had been killed. Neighbors could not know. The topic became one of silence as families took action for self-preservation. People were imprisoned or disappeared for speaking against the government in the 1960s so silence was the preferable option.

The excavated bones, however, are a screaming testimony to atrocities of the past. Near the mine is a trailer that contains several boxes of bones. Most of the excavated bones, however, are refrigerated at Chungbuk University in order to preserve them for testimony. Choi showed us a box of femurs, another of ribs, and other boxes with carefully separated bones, a skull with a bullet-hole over the right ear opening, another smashed by a hammer, teeth with gold fillings, and the odd leather shoes. Some bones were white, others had been blackened with flame-throwers which were used to incinerate the victims before throwing them down the mine shaft. Perpetrators initially shot the victims before dropping them into the mine, but forensic evidence suggests that when the perpetrators ran out of bullets, they started beating the victims before pushing the bodies into the shaft. Some of these victims were people who

• belonged to social movements
• opposed the ruling government
• demanded redistribution of land after Japanese occupation
• demanded compensation for barley that the US had confiscated

Local rumor has it that three people survived the 60-70 meter drop. One person is said to have survived the drop but starved subsequently. Another man is reported to have escaped the mine but only to be recaptured, while the third is said to have escaped the mine and run away.

Meeting 4 Members of the Bereaved Families 

The Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Bereaved Families Association was established after the Korean War, but in the Park Chung-hee era, the association was eradicated. It was started again in 2000 under the presidency of the liberal Kim Dae-jung, when many other bereaved families associations registered also. In total there are 114 bereaved families associations representing Korean War civilian massacre sites. Wikipedia, like the Korean government, is very silent about massacre sites in the country; Wikipedia cites 18 of the reported 114 sites. A strange silence on a very ignominious past.

Lee Jeong Woo, President of the Legal Body

To give background, in July and August 1950 soldiers and police who were part of the National Guidance League killed about 3500 people. So far 500 have been excavated, but many more are in water and mud, but it's painful that we can't excavate the remains. Our original Bereaved Families Association started out in 2000 with 160 families [now there are 120 but some families have passed away and others have removed their names from the association], so we've had about 16 years of activism. The ROK is democratic but nonetheless there's no support; we would like the government to support us. We receive help from a civil society group, a farmers association here in Gyeongsan, and from the newspaper, but we need more and we need more public awareness. 

I was 8, in 2nd grade of elementary school when father was killed. Father was head of the fire-fighters. Life was difficult. We farmed a little, but eventually had to sell the land. After graduating from elementary school, we moved to Daegu and lived in a one-room: my 3 siblings, myself and my mom. After finishing the military service, I took a test to become a military servant and passed at the 4th level. I worked 3 years and wanted to move up to the next level, but every three years there is a background check, and my background check revealed that my father was "killed in a strange way" and that father had been a political prisoner. The office mood became so bad toward me that I was forced to resign after only working as a military servant for three years. I got a job at a regular company and worked there until I retired. 

One of my nephews also had difficulties when he wanted to study abroad. However, his family record showed that my father (the nephew's great uncle) had a political prisoner record, and therefore, he was disallowed to go abroad. I went to the police station, talked with police and pleaded with them. I bought them lunch, and the nephew was allowed to go. Guilt by association was hard.

Kim Kab Soon, on the Board of Directors

When our Bereaved Families Association started in 2000, 114 other bereaved families associations started at the same time. The bereaved families have succeeded in getting reparations in the lower courts, but now the proceedings need to be passed in the Supreme Court. Through government oppression, many of the bereaved families didn't come forward. When others tried to find the cobalt mine bereaved families, people were afraid to come forward because in the past there had always been oppression and guilt by association, so who was to say that if people registered, they wouldn't later be labeled as guilty again. 

Na Jeong Tae, Vice-president

Kim Kab Soon and Na Jeong Tae

The thing that is restricting bereaved families is guilt by association. Supposedly in 1983 when Chun Doo-hwan was grabbed by the knees by a woman who pleaded with him, Chun didn't know what guilt by association was and asked his advisors. When he heard the explanation for the first time he said, "Well, get rid of it!" What he said was publicized but the law was not changed and still exists today.

Kim Kab Soon, on the Board of Directors

Legally it still exists, but it is not put into practice. Now a person can take an exam and, without a background check, the person can become a civil servant. Also before, when becoming a civil servant, a person had to have a background check as well as sign a document about one's political stance. These two things were required before getting a position like a public servant, before being an employee at a large company, or to work at most large companies, chaebols in those days. One also had to submit a document of assets because the government could confiscate those properties if a person was seen politically going against the government. 

I was 13, the oldest son, when my father disappeared. I had two younger sisters. My father was a railroad public servant [basically a union member]. When the [Korean] war broke out, father was apprehended (snatched) and mother went around looking for him... Mother was a seamstress, and I helped. On the way home from school, I picked up sewing for Mother, and the next day on the way to school I delivered the sewing. Mother worked so hard but she had to eat. While she ate, I would be at the sewing machine sewing. Eventually, I took the exam and was allowed to work as a 5th ranking public servant. I retired and immediately joined the bereaved families. I had to retire first before speaking out. Even though there was a background check every three years, records didn't show about my father. If I had been found out as a bereaved family member, I could have lost my job.

On Young Sook, bereaved family member

I was 4. My father had just become a pharmacist. That was a very good position. But he was killed and we had nothing. If he had been a farmer when he died, we would have had land to live off of. It was hard. My brother, born in 1949, was barely born, and live was hard for him. He did go to college and when he came out in 1980 he applied for a construction company, but the job required overseas travel which as a bereaved family member he was not allowed to do. There was one chance though. He needed two public servants of 3rd rank [pretty high] or higher to vouch for him. My mother ran around searching and begging for the signatures. As bereaved family members, the only choice the kids had was to sell stuff, be farmers, so what was the point of going to university if the kids couldn't be public servants? [no private companies at that time] So what was the point of studying? Eventually mother got the signatures, and he was able to take the job and do work overseas. My brother won't talk about the bereaved families. He knows I'm active but he doesn't want to know anything. He had a hard life growing up. 

Also, eventually I studied for a high school degree by myself. I couldn't go to university but I took online courses (at age 60!). My mother before she died was always nagging me about my courses but I wanted to study. I want to learn. I was married. My husband died young. I didn't tell him I was a bereaved family member when we got married. He found out, and asked me, "So what will happen to my job if people know?!" And afterwards whenever he got drunk, he would yell about people finding out and other bad things.

Na Jeong Tae, Vice-president

50 years had passed since the massacre before we were established in 2000 (as bereaved families). People knew about the massacre but didn't talk about it. Certain political dynamics prevented discussion. President Kim Dae-jung acknowledged the massacre at Nogunri and that started the discussion here. 200 families originally joined but there's a decline in the numbers, because old folks have passed away; others were scared because it was a "dangerous place for me" and feared repercussions. President Roh Mu-hyun in the Participatory Government helped a lot. In 2005 the government asked people to register as bereaved families [for all the civilian massacres sites]. Only about 10% came forward, but the government then said that there wasn't enough evidence to prove they were bereaved families. [about 10,000 bereaved families registered but only 8,000 were recognized by the government as being bereaved families. Na Jeong Tae and others believe that the 10,000 who registered is only 10% of the bereaved families and that the number is realistically closer to 1 million!] The problem with this is "Why is the government asking people to register rather than coming to us and saying (personably) there is a problem? Why do we have to go to the government ... and then prove we are bereaved families?"  

When the Korean War started, the bereaved families fought for recognition and on the side of what is South Korea now. Then when Park Chung-hee was president, the families were detained and questioned and not allowed to talk about the mine genocide. The reason why there is little hope now is the children can't talk about it and grandchildren don't know what happened. Parents don't want to tell their children, because of shame. They want their children to be free of shame and have good lives. We want the government to investigate how the victims were killed and how the victims had their human rights infringed upon. We want the civilians who were killed in the massacre to have restored reputations, and a press conference to be held to discuss the problem.  

Now the Bereaved Families Associations are petitioning the government to help the 1 million victims  of the Korean War. The petition, if containing 50,000 signatures and 10% of which are bereaved family members, will be opened at the National Assembly in April 2016. The petition already has 40,000 signatures, mostly obtained since the May 18 press conference on the topic of massacres. The petition appeals for the remains of massacre sites to be excavated, that a project to commemorate the victims (like in Kwangju) be made; the bereaved families want a direct apology from the government as well as the bereaved families registry to be reopened [people could only register during one year, 2000], and they also want the Truth and Reconciliation Commission for Korea be re-established and for bereaved families to again be recipients of funding. The petition, only in Korean, for those who wish to sign is here. 

Na Jeong Tae didn't say much about his life. He was in his 4th year of elementary school when his father was killed, and his education therefore ended. Life was very hard. His mother remarried [because what could a woman do at that time?] He was sent to a relative's house where he worked very hard. Now he does interior decorating, translating as menial labor in gutting and rebuilding the inside of houses or shops. His hard, rough hands are testimony to a life of rough physical labor. He said, "I live 'crying tears of blood'".

September 9 (lunar calendar) 

September 9 on the lunar calendar, or this year October 20 (Tuesday) on the solar calendar, is the day chosen for observing chaesa, ancestor bows and respects. Typically, the day for chaesa is on either the anniversary of the ancestor's death or on his or her birthday; however, with so many families involved in the communal grave, the date in some foggy time in the past was decided upon: lunar Sept 9. Unfortunately, even though our team of 4 were there on October 17 and 18 (solar), we just couldn't return in the middle of the week for the big ceremony of honor and respects to the dead. This is a very important ceremony as in Korea families are linked to their ancestors and respects are given, traditionally, to up to four ancestors immediately past but in the present-day to only parents and grandparents. The dead are thought to bridge the gap between the spirit world and the living world and therefore can influence the fate and blessings of the family. Ancestors properly buried, and especially in propitious sites, are believed to direct greater blessings on the descendants they watch over than those ancestors that are wandering from careless burials or unattended tombs. With family and family connections being so important in Korea, the day of chaesa is a ceremonial calendar day. No wonder the bereaved families seek to console the dead and properly bury them.

Two books written in Korean about the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Massacre. (2008)

Truth and Reconciliation Commission links:

Crimes, Concealment and South Korea's Truth and Reconciliation Commission
The Unknown Korean War: Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Korea and Excavation of the Remains of Mass-murdered Victims

Other related links:

UbuntuWorks: Reflecting Our Common Humanity: "Bury My Heart at Gyeongsan"
Accountability & Prevention: An Analysis of Civilian Killings in the Korean War
The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the Korean War
Truth and Reconciliation: Activities of the Past Three Years
Looking Back while Moving Forward: The Evolution of Truth Commission is Korea
The NewYork Times - "Unearthing War's Horrors Years Later in South Korea"

Magnolia Excursion: Chollipo Arboretum

Ferris Miller, a Pennsylvanian who came to South Korea with the US Navy in 1945, fell in love with the country and its people. The job was rather short-lived and he returned to Korea in 1947 again as a linguist (Japanese) to translate and summarize documents dealing with property ownership claims resulting from the Japanese Occupation. The job ended in 1948 and back to the States he went, but again he returned in 1949 with a US Government agency job with ECA, the forerunner of today's AID. However, with the invasion of the North, Miller along with all embassy staff was evacuated to Japan on June 27th, 1950 though coming back to Pusan during the days of the "Pusan perimeter". A few months later he was struck with hepatitis and had to be evacuated to Japan and due to slow recovery sent back to the US, whereupon he learned that the ECA was closing down in Korea and wanted to send him to Taiwan.

This was not suitable to him, so he resigned and in 1951 returned once again to Korea to work for the army as a civilian. When a friend fell ill, Miller was assigned to replace him at the Bank of Korea where, in 1953, he was asked to work directly for the bank, and Miller became the first and only foreigner to work directly for the Bank of Korea [since 2000 this may not apply]. And for the next 30 years, until 1982, Miller worked as translator and writer for the Bank until his retirement. After retirement, filled with energy and alertness he refused the office with a chair at the Bank of Korea that he was entitled to go to every day and began work as a consultant for securities and brokerages ... but his passion was his magnolias.

Ferris Miller became one of the world's greatest magnolia collectors, a passion he indulged with unbridled joy and huge personal expense. It all started with a 1962 swimming trip to the western shoreline in one of his many getaway from Seoul attempts. Continually offered land by a cash-poor, land-rich villager, he bought a barren plot on Mallipo Beach near the fishing village of Chollipo in the Taean Peninsula. The land sat idle until 1970, when, disgusted by Seoul's worsening air pollution, he moved his traditional Korean house from Seoul to this fishing village retreat and began planting trees on the barren hills to create a wind-break. 

In 1971, Miller set up his arboretum and he became the head of his foundation funded entirely by himself. By 1971 he had a staff of 13, including his foster son, Song Chinsu, who he tried to adopt but due to the Korean legal system of adopting a male failed. His foster son became the manager and his "grandson", Song Chong-gun, was the apple of his eye. By four years of age, his little grandson could recite many of the estate species -- magnolias, forsythias, azaleas, cherry blossoms, camellias, etc -- using both their Korean and Latin names.

In 1979, Carl Ferris Miller who had been using the Korean name Min Pyong-gal for convenience, became a naturalized Korean citizen and his Korean name legalized. Miller made the name himself based on pronunciation similarities. Min is a Korean name as similar to Miller as he could get; it was also the name of a close friend. Gal sounds a lot like Carl, but the choice of Pyong is unclear. Citizenship is more than just having a Korean name; it is also about having a history, so when he went to apply for citizenship, a clerk asked him what his clan was. He replied, "I am a Pennsylvania man," but the clerk insisted there was no such thing, and since all Mins come from Yohung, Min Pyong-gal was likewise registered as a Yohung Min. 

Until his death on April 8, 2002 at the age of 81, Miller aka Min had the self-appointed mission of gathering magnolias, particularly rare mountain varieties, in his arboretum. His aim was to save the plant heritage of his adopted country for future generations. The amateur collector, Carl Ferris Miller, became one of the world's greatest magnolia collectors and his estate, which grew as other villagers sold a small plot here and a small plot there, became a magnolia legend containing more than 13,200 different varieties of plant species, including 380 kinds of magnolias, making it one of the most extensive magnolia collections in the world. Before he died, he donated the 140-acre arboretum in which he had invested over 100 billion won. 

Posthumously, Miller received the highly esteemed Gold Tower merit by then-president Kim Dae-jung. It is the highest order a Korean civilian may receive and given in recognition of exemplary contribution to the development of industry and national economy. His wish was for the arboretum to live on after his death, and before he died he even said, "After I pass away, plant one more tree rather than setting aside a piece of land for my tomb." 

On the 10th anniversary after his death, the Chollipo Arboretum honored him with a memorial service and his cremated remains were buried under a raspberry fun tree [sic?], a magnolia and a loegneri hybrid that yields pink flowers. After dedicating his life to the continuation of the Korean horticulture, he symbolically gives his remains to their continued perpetuation. 

In celebration of Miller's great legacy to Korea, personal friend and former journalist Lim Junsu wrote and illustrated the book "I Am Sorry, Trees", the first biography about Miller and one that expresses Miller's love for trees. It is a remembrance of Miller's life and work contribution.

Miller selflessly gave his billions for the perpetuation of Korean horticulture. Similarly, Miller would be please to know that in 2012 Song Chang-geun, Korean philanthropist, who owned and managed 1,636 acres of forest land that has been part of the family estate for decades has donated it to the Korean Forest Service so it will remain in a natural state. His action is a statement for the prevention of land destruction through reckless development. Like Miller, Song Chang-geun planted trees, and since 2006 had planted more than 2 million trees. The donated land was valued at US$85 million. 

The "Big Issue" Magazine in Korea

A presentation given by two of my students in Academic Writing. The topic was a social or environmental issue, and it was a research assignment. This presentation is on the growing number of homeless and one of the most proactive methods for dealing with the social issue. And thank you, Jeon Eunji and Bang Jiwon for presenting on this topic AND for allowing me to publish it for others to learn from.

The number of homeless is growing in Korea and has become a social issue. [I might add that I've seen the homeless huddled in cardboard boxes and in many subway and bus stations since I came to Korea in 1991 but only recently has the 'problem' become recognized as a social issue. Korea has become a country that talks a lot about Human Rights, and I'm glad that the homeless are now getting more in the media as a minority of people often forced into their homeless circumstances due to a series of unpreventable circumstances.]

[Unlike this chart suggests that there are more homeless people in very recent times, they are not evident like they were a few years ago. The reason being for that is that at many subway stations where the homeless were known to sleep a few years back, the homeless are no longer allowed to rest there ... because they looked dirty to passing people and the downtown commercial area doesn't want to admit that there is a sharp disparity between the 'haves' and the 'have nots'. The 'have nots' are of course dirty because they have not a home, and therefore, have not regular access to soap and water; and because they are bad for commercial business, they are told to go elsewhere and the city has made rulings as such. However, those "elsewhere" places are becoming fewer and fewer. From what I gathered by watching the homeless in Chonggak station, line 1, until a few short years ago, the homeless were not allowed until I believe after 9pm or 10pm to start taping up cardboard boxes for their nights 'bedroom'. About four years ago, they were told Chonggak is no longer a place for the homeless to either beg or sleep, and I saw policemen enforcing this by nudging and nudging an old woman to get up and move away ... she was so so tired, and her begging before sleeping was only generating a few coins in her plastic sieve basket. This chart shows that the number of homeless drastically increased in 2011, but my question, where are the 20,000 staying, especially as most of the homeless are said to be in Seoul?]

[When I was doing research on the elderly in Korea a few years ago, I spoke with one 'beggar' and he responded! Actually, as I understand it, beggars beg at the same place every day; it's like they own it. Years back many beggars similarly used to be "owned" by keepers of some kind who would give them a simple room and basic foods and needs and of course take all their "earnings" at the end of every day ... or so some students in Kwangji in 1991-2 explained to me. One of my colleagues back in 1991 actually saw a black-suited man with massive rings and a cane (all secure statements reflecting his financial status of the time) beating a beggar with his cane and shouting! My colleague asked her student what he was saying, and the student was ashamed and didn't want to say. Finally, he said that the man was shouting, "You're not acting poor enough! You've gotta act poorer!" For the next several years I kept my eyes sharp for beggars and tried to decipher their demeanor and create their stories. If I ever said, "Hi" or anything to them, I never ever got a response until an old man with diabetes just opened up and started talking! It was an amazing revelation to a "have not" lifestyle.

 

The problem is, people don't talk at all about beggars anymore, just step around them and go their own way. But when my translator and I were talking to that old man, a LOT of people looked at us .. and at him, and a few paused and listened a bit to what the guy was saying to that foreigner! This particular beggar had looked up, which is odd for a beggar. He didn't have the demeanor or attitude of a typical beggar either, so I asked him, "Grandfather, why are you here?" And surprisingly, he started talking! That's never happened before! Understanding the elderly with their older vocab and their gapped mouths or ceramic teeth is HARD! and since I had my translator with me for doing research, and she was a very compassionate person, we both encountered a very sad story. Sometimes we think we're being taken down the river by a long tale, but this guy seemed very credible!

 

He said that he had bad diabetes, terrible teeth problems, and so many aches and pains. He was 86 and his wife a few years younger but crippled by arthritis so badly that she had to crawl on the floor to move anywhere. Their son had committed suicide in his early 20s and their daughter had died of some kind of sudden heart problem just before she was to be wed. That was all their children. They had lost their home in the Korean War and had had horrendous financial and health issues since. They had no one to support them in their old age, and the old man praised former president Kim Dae Jung for giving elderly people like himself and his wife, who had no children, a tiny room to live in and a simple allowance (W400,000/mth). The simple allowance was not suitable to meet their health needs or get better food for his wife, so one day a week he would go out to different subway entrances to beg. He had to move around to the different subway entrances because other beggars or people would tell him that place was for someone else or just tell him to move. He told us on begging days he might earn W10,000 or on a particularly lucky day W20,000. Every little bit helped! Sometimes he sold gum, but usually he just begged.]

[Ideally as the proverb goes, "you can give a man a fish or make him a fisherman", empowering the homeless and making him or her capable of generating some of his/her own income can result in fostering a sense of self pride, which is the BIG ISSUE and at the same time stabilizing an escalating social problem. And so the magazine "Big Issue" is for the homeless to sell to generate a little income.]

[The "Big Issue" is fairly new to Korea, and is an important introduction for the rising numbers of homeless people. With 20,000 estimated homeless people in Korea, their condition could be a drain on the finances of the city ... except that I rather doubt the city puts much financing into their problem. However, by giving the homeless the right to sell a magazine (I've never read it and don't know the genre), they are giving them (1) something to do, and empowering them to achieve their own monetary gains rather than being dependent on a faltering social class, whether from tax handouts or coin handouts for the beggaring. Therefore, by selling the magazine, the homeless will achieve a sense of self esteem and personal pride in what they CAN do for themselves. Selling the "Big Issue" is a win-win situation for both marketer and seller.]

[So, for the homeless to sell the magazine, they have to observe 10 rules. Actually the handful of people I've seen selling this magazine, seem to be very proactive. One guy near my university stands often in a cold breezeway of a subway exit, either above ground or on really cold days, just below ground. He smiles, greets many people with "Hello" and always has the most cheerful shining smile. He's pleasant, and he is the reason I asked my two students for permission to post this. Until this presentation I was unaware that only the homeless could sell the "Big Issue" and a sizable percent of the cost is take home pay, or reinvestment pay in order to continue selling the next day. I had heard rumor about what the magazine was for, but now that I understand it's purpose (I still don't know the content). I want to tell others, and hopefully others will then understand the homeless people trying to recover their self esteem and gain some stability. I hope people will also give the homeless smiles, shake their hands and commend them for their work, and this tiny social support will encourage the homeless to gradually metamorphose back to mainstream society; of course buying a magazine helps with their financial metamorphosis too! Every little bit helps, and that human touch and consideration helps a LOT!]

[So only the first 10 copies are free to the homeless. Supposedly that gives the sellers a little money to start their little business of buying and selling so they an ever-increase their sales.]

 

 

["Big Issue" wants to give a reputable name to itself and so the times and places in which it is sold are regulated. Only 40 sites in Seoul are currently where the "Big Issue" is sold, and the times are equally fixed about when the magazine is sold. I'm not really sure but selling hours seem to correspond with evening rush hour, and so some sense is made. Also, by establishing a fixed time for selling, which I believe might be one of the rules of selling, the homeless are prevented from extreme ranges of "clocked labor". The message being given by establishing this magazine for only the homeless to sell is to GIVE RESPECT to the workers and to ENGENDER SELF RESPECT in the selling. I really dig this message!]

 

Thank you Jeon Eunji and Bang Jiwon for letting me post this here for others to learn from also!

The Statue of Brothers, Korean War Museum

Not many outside of Korea realize that the Korean War, known in South Korea as the 'June 25 War' and which exists in ideology to this day, was caused by the fall of the Japanese Empire and the spread of the Cold War. Japan ruled the Korean peninsula as a colony from 1910 to 1945 but was disempowered at the end of World War II. Ironically though, Japan did not pay a great price for its aggressive actions in inciting war through loss of any of its own country but instead its colonies paid that price. The Korean peninsula, a colony of Japan for 35 years, was divided up roughly at the 39th parallel with Russia, who had entered World War II only a week before the war terminated, occupying North Korea and the US staying on as protectorate until 1948 of South Korea. At first the 39th parallel was rather porous but as Russian rule intensified in its escalating communistic doctrines, more and more people fled across the dividing parallel until by 1949, escaping North Korea had become nearly impossible.

Shortly after the Korean peninsula ('Joseon' according to the Koreans themselves) was severed, North Korea called itself the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK) - Yes, ironically referring to itself as democratic for that was the nationwide demand at the time so the promises and the nomenclature did seem favorable. Another irony is that South Korea called itself the Republic of Korea (ROK), but the ROK and not the DPRK was the country that was organized and had a constitution drawn up based on democracy. The triple irony is that neither ever were democracies in name or action as communism in the North was exacting and incompatible with democracy, self-gain and individualism while in the South, in loathing communism and desiring to purge that ideology from the land, another form of dictatorship was created. So based on the ideologies of the Cold War and countries that occupied the Korean peninsula and separating it as an outcome of World War II in which the Koreans played no role, the Joseon people were divided: father from son, husband from wife, and brother from brother.

When the Korean War started on June 25, 1950, South Korea was unprepared. In the Korean War Museum, film clippage shows couples dancing nonchalantly, citizens going about their daily business, and even large numbers of soldiers had been released from the front so they could help their families plant the precious staple of the land, rice. The North Koreans in stealth invaded and due to radios, TVs and other means of telecommunication being virtually non-existent, for many weeks even the North Korean citizens did not know their country had invaded South Korea as they were informed via word-of-mouth that South Korea had invaded the North. When they did find out that their government had been the aggressors, they were already bound in the spirit of national defense, defense of the homeland and of their families around them. It was an ugly war of family members fighting separated family members. And it is still an ugly war of family members unnecessarily separated across a narrow 4km boundary due to differing governmental ideologies.

Kim Dae Jung, South Korean president from 1998-2003, worked to garner a more amicable relationship with North Korea through his Sunshine Policy for which he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize (2000). The Sunshine Policy had intermittent gleams of success in improving North-South Korean relations but when Lee Myung Bak, present president of South Korea, took office in 2008, the kindled interactions were extinguished.

The Statue of Brothers
And yet, South Korea dreams on for the reuniting of the nation. Outside the Korea War Museum is the Statue of Brothers, depicting an older brother as a ROK officer meeting his younger brother as a DPRK soldier and reconciling in love and forgiveness on the divided (notice the crack) battleground. [I find the status and ages projected on the two soldiers rather ideocentric, especially since status and age determined seniority and thus wisdom and who should protect whom. Prior to the Korean War, South Korea was the weaker of the two counties: it was comprised mostly of agricultural land, had very few factories and power generators, and virtually no industries or means of organized production as well as no natural resources. And so to project itself as the older brother and as a officer suggests a kind of ideocentric, perhaps even ethnocentric, superiority over the brother-country. I'm not sure when this statue was built but until, I believe, the early 1970s North Korea had the superior economy until suddenly the Miracle of the Han River, South Korea's rapidly expanding economy, shot past the North Korean economy and North Korea ceased to announce its economic world standing.]

Comments on South Koreans' thoughts for reunification
Since the late 1990s I have heard less and less about South Korean citizens wanting reunification. This change in attitude I think is most specifically related to the financial crisis in 1997, which South Koreans term the "IMF Crisis", a term implying blame on the IMF (International Monetary Fund) which was a bailout for South Korea but was a "loss of face" to the South Koreans on an international scale for needing outside assistance for their internal financial problems. By 2002 the South Korean economy had recovered, but even though President Kim Dae Jung was glorying in his Nobel Prize for the Sunshine Policy, fewer and fewer Korean citizens were actually talking about reunification. They were satisfied with their economic status, and North Korea, known as one of the poorest countries in the world, would drag down their economy again. [The economies of East and West Germany before reunification canNOT be compared as East Germany was the wealthiest country of the eastern block countries, so subsuming it into the West German economy was financially draining but not inconceivable. North Korea, on the other hand, has been considered one of the poorest countries in the world so for South Korea to economically "assist" North Korea would be financially exhausting.]

Families have been separated for more than 60 years now and relationships and brotherhood sentiments are mellowed through extended family distance. And now, fewer and fewer elderly members are being reunited at Gaesung, just over the border in North Korea. Mix the distance of time and the again burgeoning economy with politics and you will realize that democracy which was finally instated in the 1988 presidential elections (on paper) but which had to be won through street fights, demonstrations and violence is now being taken for granted by the younger generation (if fast-dropping voting rates are an indicator). The younger generations who were first estranged before birth from family links and further estranged by the development of political freedom seem simply content with their economic comforts and self-advancement.

Now when South Korea talks about reunification with North Korea (most obviously at the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ)), talk is about (1) expansionism into North Korea where there is more land and where it can be developed, and (2) the DMZ can be created into a giant, symbolic peace park. At the DMZ South Korea shows pictures of how it could be landscaped into a giant garden with walkways and trees (rather commercialized in my opinion) ... but I am curious what plans North Korea would have for that DMZ land, and if their plans are compatible with South Korea's idea for a Peace Park. They have been informed of South Korea's intention but does the North Korean ideology and value system regard a vast park for tourism as the suitable future boundary defining a former Communistic country and a Capitalistic one?