Daughters of the Dragon: A Comfort Woman's Story (20 page)

T
HIRTY-FOUR

S
eoul.
It was my first time in South Korea’s capital city. I was thrilled to finally see it. But I was scared, too. As the bus—a wobbly antique filled with poor farmers and American enlisted soldiers on R and R—weaved through the city under the April sky, there were signs that South Korea was rebuilding from the rubble left by the Korean War. On the sides of buildings, workers carrying bricks and mortar crawled on scaffolding. Cranes lifted building materials high in the sky. But in the dark spaces between the construction sites, I saw ragged, homeless people staring vacantly from the shadows. They looked like I did only a year before.

It was mid-afternoon when the bus came to a stop outside the Yongsan U. S. Military Garrison in the Itaewon district of Seoul. I lifted Soo-bo to my hip and my rucksack to my shoulder. I followed the line of soldiers off the bus. A swarm of filthy children and women dressed in rags confronted us. They reached out to us with grimy hands and begged for our spare change.

I pushed into the crowd. The beggars took one look at Soo-hee on my hip and let me pass. A half dozen taxis waited nearby. I approached a taxi driver. He asked me what I wanted.

I took the address of the construction firm from my pocket and read it to him. I asked if he could take me there. The taxi driver looked past me at the American soldiers trying to escape the beggars and told me to go away.

I put Soo-bo on the ground, reached inside my rucksack and pulled out a five-dollar bill. I showed it to the taxi driver. “I can pay just as well as they can,” I said.

The driver looked at the money, then at me. He grinned and told me to get in.

Less than ten minutes later, we stopped in front of a two-story concrete building on a wide boulevard not far from Itaewon. Above the door was a new sign that read ‘Gongson Construction’. After Soo-bo and I got out, I asked the driver how much I owed.

“Five dollars American,” he answered.

“That’s too much,” I said.

“That’s your fare,” he answered firmly.

I sighed and gave him the five-dollar bill. I took Soo-bo by the hand and we went inside the building.

Inside, painters on upside-down v-shaped bamboo ladders brushed paint on the walls. A handful of workers scurried from desk to desk. I approached a middle-aged woman at a makeshift reception desk and told her who I wanted to meet. She said that Mr. Han was on the second floor and pointed at Soo-bo. “You shouldn’t take your child up there. Can you leave her with someone and come back?”

“No ma’am,” I answered. “This is my first time in Seoul. I don’t know anyone here.”

The woman looked around the office. “Well, I don’t have much to do right now. I can watch her for a while.”

I sized up the woman and decided I had to trust her. “Thank you,” I said.

The woman came from behind the reception desk. “My name is Mrs. Min. What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Her name is Soo-bo. I am Hong Ja-hee.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Come with me, Soo-bo,” Mrs. Min said extending a hand.

“
Anyahasayo
,” Soo-bo said as she took Mrs. Min’s hand.

Mrs. Min pointed at my rucksack. “You should leave your pack with me, too. You can wash in the bathroom before you see Mr. Han.”

I swung my rucksack off my shoulder and put it on the floor behind the reception desk. Inside was everything I owned—my clothes, the money Colonel Crawford had given me and the comb with the two-headed dragon. Mrs. Min sat Soo-bo at a desk behind her and gave her some paper and a pencil. Soo-bo went to work on a drawing and Mrs. Min watched with obvious delight and I could see Soo-bo was in good hands. I headed off to the bathroom to wash and then to the second floor to meet Mr. Han.

I approached a man at a desk. When I told him what I wanted, he scoffed. “You want to work as a translator for our firm?” he asked. He wore thick glasses, a white shirt, a dark blue tie and a worn suit coat.

“Yes sir,” I said. “I read, write, and speak several languages. I was referred here by Colonel Crawford of the American Eighth Army.”

He cocked his head, then shook it. “I don’t know him.”

“Aren’t you Mr. Han?” I asked.

“No, I am Mr. Park, Mr. Han’s assistant. Which languages do you know?”

“English, Chinese and Japanese. I learned Japanese and Chinese as a young girl and when the Americans came, I learned English, too. I also know some Russian.”

Mr. Park raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fluently?”

“English and Japanese, yes. Colonel Crawford said I should see Mr. Han.”

Mr. Park leaned back and eyed me. “Mr. Han is not here,” he said in English. “Where have you worked before?”

Mr. Park’s English was dreadful. His grammar was wrong and his accent was so bad, I could barely understand him. “I worked as a translator for the government,” I responded in my best English. “I worked for a negotiator during the talks between the North and South.”

I could see that my excellent English intimidated Mr. Park. He switched back to Korean. “Did you work for the North or the South?” he asked.

“The South, of course,” I said.

“Okay. We need a translator, so let’s find out how fluent you really are.” He reached inside his desk and took out some papers and a pencil and handed them to me. He gave me a contract. He pointed to a wooden table in a corner and told me to do my best at translating it into English. “You have one hour,” he said.

I thanked him, and took the papers to the table. The language on the contract was similar to the declarations and decrees I had helped to translate for the North Korean government. There were only a few words I didn’t know and I burned them into my mind where I would never forget them. Thirty minutes later, I handed the translation to Mr. Park.

“Are you done already?” he asked.

“Yes sir.”

“And you know Japanese, too?”

“Yes, sir. Even better than English.”

Mr. Park scratched his head. “We will have to look this over. Come back in a week and we will let you know.”

“Thank you, sir. Will I be able to see Mr. Han then?”

“It depends on how good your translations are.”

I bowed again and went downstairs to get Soo-bo. When I got to the reception desk, Soo-bo was still drawing pictures and Mrs. Min was working on some papers.

“You’re back so soon,” Mrs. Min said without looking up.

“Yes. Thank you for watching my daughter.” Mrs. Min kept her eyes on her work.

Soo-bo showed me one of her drawings. “Look,
Ummah
,” she said. “Here’s where we used to live.” Within the scratching and scribbling, there was a picture of a bar and me in my blue dress. On top, Soo-bo had written ‘Cat Club.’

I quickly stuffed the drawings into my rucksack and picked up Soo-bo. I thanked Mrs. Min again. She didn’t look up.

I hurried outside. I looked one way down the boulevard, then the other way. It was late in the afternoon. I was tired and hungry and didn’t have anywhere to stay for the night. Soo-bo, even as thin as she was, was heavy on my hip. I could tell that she was tired and hungry, too. I started walking. The boulevard was full of workers going home. I noticed construction workers were heading in one direction while well-dressed office workers were heading in the other. I lowered Soo-bo to the sidewalk and we joined the line of construction workers.

After many blocks, the line began to thin. We walked into an area of cheap-looking boardinghouses. I scanned the windows and doorways for a sign offering a room to rent. I didn’t see any.

Soo-bo tugged on my hand. “
Ummah
, I’m hungry,” she said.

“I know, little one,” I said. “I am too. We will find something soon.”

We walked several more blocks to where the boardinghouses were shabby. Hopeless-looking people watched us from windows. I quickened my pace. Finally, in the doorway of a dirty, two-story house was a sign, ‘Room for Rent.’ I went to the door and knocked. An old woman with several missing teeth answered.

“Forty-five dollars a month, American,” the woman said without introducing herself. “First month now and another forty-five dollars as a down payment. If all you have is won, the price is higher and will change every month because of the inflation. Take it or go away.”

I did some quick math in my head. Ninety dollars was nearly half of what Colonel Crawford had given me. I would need clothes, food, and a sleeping mat for Soo-bo and me. If I didn’t get a job, I would be broke in just a few months.

I looked down the street at the shabby buildings. My stomach growled. Soo-bo leaned against my leg.

“I will take it,” I said.

T
HIRTY-FIVE

“W
e haven’t gotten
the results in yet,” Mrs. Min said from behind the Gongson Construction Company’s new reception desk. The painters had finished their work in the lobby a month earlier and they had brought in new furniture. Everything in the lobby was new and there was a feeling of prosperity.

“It’s been two months,” I pleaded. “Mr. Park told me you would know in a week.”

Mrs. Min pressed her lips together and picked up some papers. I could tell she only pretended to read them. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have work to do.”

Dejected, I walked out the door. Seoul’s summer rains had come and with it, the humidity. The air was heavy and the skies were a seamless gray. It smelled like it would rain again soon. I turned down the boulevard toward the market in Itaewon. I had left Soo-bo with a neighbor, a young woman named Yon-lee who watched Soo-bo for four won per day. I always dropped Soo-bo off when I went to the market to look for work. So far, I hadn’t found any.

I had hoped to have the translating job from Gongson by now. A week after I had taken their test, I had come back as Mr. Park had told me to. But when I asked Mrs. Min if I could see Mr. Park, the receptionist told me that they hadn’t been able to check my translation yet. She gave me the same answer for seven weeks now.

I was desperate. Food, clothing and a mat cost much more in Seoul than I had expected. My landlord demanded the rent on the first of each month. This month’s rent was past due and I didn’t have it. In fact, I was nearly broke. I was terrified that if I didn’t find work soon, Soo-bo and I would be out on the street like the people dressed in rags who begged for my spare change.

I walked to the market in Itaewon. The clouds turned dark and a breeze kicked up. I searched for ‘Help Wanted’ signs in the stores, restaurants, tailors and souvenir shops that catered to the American military men. I saw nothing.

I went to the seedier section of Itaewon where bars and cheap restaurants advertised their goods with sad signs in English. One bar named The Queen of Hearts had a sign next to its door that read, ‘Girls Wanted.’ I stopped on the sidewalk facing the bar. On the second floor, a young woman wearing too much makeup stared impassively out of a window.

Next to the bar was a pawnshop. Behind its yellowed windows were old watches, jewelry, leather goods, radios and cheap antiques. A sign in the window said, ‘Will Buy Anything.’

The breeze swelled and the dark clouds opened up. Rain poured down with a hiss at first, then in loud splatters. Shoppers ran for cover and soon, I was the only one on the sidewalk. I was getting drenched, but I didn’t care. I stood facing the bar and pawnshop and let the hard rain wash over me. My hair matted against my head and my dress clung to me. After several minutes, I took a step forward.

I pushed open the pawnshop door. Glass cases filled with goods surrounded a small, energetic man. “Good morning, pretty lady. Do you want to buy a watch for your husband? A radio? Jewelry? I have a good price for you.”

I stepped to the glass counter. Inside were several antiques. My hair dripped rainwater on the glass. “Do you want something for your home?” the man asked, scooting behind the counter. “I have valuable antiques and a good price for you.”

“Your sign says you will buy anything,” I said.

The merchant sagged. “What do you have?” he asked.

“I have an antique comb.”

“A comb? That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“I am not interested in an old comb.”

“It has a solid gold spine and an ivory inlay of a two-headed dragon.”

The man froze for just a second, and said, “Are you sure the dragon has two heads?”

“Yes, I’m sure. And its feet have five toes.”

The man gasped. “The dragon has five toes?” he whispered. “Are you sure?” He pulled back and smoothed his hair. He smiled professionally. “Now that you mention it, I might be interested in a comb. Do you have it with you?”

I glared at the man. “It’s valuable, isn’t it?” I asked.

The man shrugged. “It might be. I would have to see it.”

I leaned over the counter pressing both hands on the glass. All of my frustration over the past two months boiled over. “Tell me,” I snarled. “It is an antique comb with a two-headed dragon whose feet has five toes. It’s valuable, isn’t it?”

The man frowned and nodded. “Yes,” he said. “If it is what you say, it is very valuable. Do you have such a comb to sell? I’ll give you a lot for it.”

“What does it mean?” I demanded. “A two-headed dragon with five toes. What does it mean?”

The man said, “The dragon… it protects Korea and the one who possesses it so they may serve Korea.”

I stood with my hands on the counter as the merchant stared at me. So what Jin-mo had said years earlier was true. The dragon with one head facing east and one facing west protected Korea. And I could get a lot of money for it—certainly enough to live on until I could find a proper job, and perhaps enough for a long, long time.

I headed for the door.

“Wait!” the merchant pleaded. “I will give you good money for it!” He followed me outside into the pouring rain. “Bring me the comb,” he shouted. “I will give a lot for it. More than you can imagine!”

I walked all the way home in the rain. As I entered the boardinghouse, my landlord came shuffling up to me. “Rent is past due,” the old woman said, through the gaps in her teeth. “Forty-five dollars. I have others who can pay. Don’t make me kick you out.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

“I will come with you to your room. You can pay me now.”

I growled at the woman. “I have to get my daughter. And I need to change. I will pay you later.”

The old woman turned away with a huff. “Rent is past due,” she hissed over her shoulder. “Pay me tomorrow or I will kick you out.”

I went to my neighbor’s apartment and knocked. Soo-bo opened the door. “
Ummah
!” she squealed. She grabbed my leg and quickly let go. “You’re wet!” she said.

I waved a thank you at Yon-lee.

“You still owe from last week,” Yon-lee said from inside her room.

I took Soo-bo down the hallway to our tiny room. I asked her about her day as I changed into dry clothes.

“I read books in English,” Soo-bo said proudly. “Mrs. Kim is trying to learn, and I helped her.”

I smiled at my daughter. “Someday soon little one, I will buy you books and teach you many English words. Other languages, too.” Soo-bo beamed.

I went to the closet and took out my rucksack. I opened it and picked up the envelope where I kept my money. There was only fourteen dollars in it. I put the money back into the rucksack. The brown package containing the comb with the two-headed dragon was in the corner. I took it out and held it in my hand.

I shoved the rucksack into the closet and lowered myself onto my mat. Soo-bo sidled up next to me. “What’s that,
Ummah
?” she asked, pointing at the package.

“It is a comb, little one.”

“Can I see?” Soo-bo said.

I pulled on the twine and opened the cloth. Soo-bo’s eyes went wide when she saw the comb. “Is it the comb our story is about,
Ummah
?”

“Yes it is.”

“It’s pretty. Can I comb my hair with it?”

I ran my hand over Soo-bo’s hair. “No, little one. This comb is too valuable for combing hair.”

“Is the story true,
Ummah
—the one about the yangban and her daughter?” Soo-bo asked.

I carefully folded the cloth around the comb and tied it closed. “No,” I said softly, “it is only a story.”

Soo-bo went over by the window and bounced a red ball. Lately, she had started to cling after I picked her up from Yon-lee. It worried me that she was eating less, growing thinner and asking questions about money. I was doing my best to keep my despair hidden from her, but I knew she was sensing it. If we ran out of money and had to live on the street, Soo-bo, with her poor health, would suffer terribly and maybe even die.

I looked at the package containing the comb. What should I do with it now? If I sold it to the pawnshop merchant, Soo-bo and I would not have to live on the street. And if the comb was what Jin-mo said, then why didn’t it protect me? Why did I have to suffer just to survive?

Soo-bo stopped bouncing the ball and grew quiet. I could see she was falling into one of her dark moods again. I took the comb from the brown cloth and slipped it inside my dress pocket. I extended a hand to Soo-bo. “Come, little one,” I said. “We have to go somewhere.”

*

Outside the rain had stopped. Silver puddles glistened in the street. People were starting to come out of their rooms to breathe the rain-cleaned air. Soo-bo and I headed toward Itaewon. We walked several blocks into the neighborhood where the boardinghouses were not as shabby. A few blocks further was the business district, and beyond that, the Itaewon market. I walked with my back straight and my eyes focused ahead. Soo-bo had to run to keep up with me.

I came to a corner. In one direction was the Gongson Construction Company, in the other was the pawnshop. I reached inside my dress pocket and felt the comb. It was smooth and cool in my hand. And then I turned toward the Gongson Construction Company. When I got to the door, I pushed my way into the lobby. I marched up to Mrs. Min and said I wanted to see Mr. Han.

“You… you can’t,” Mrs. Min said. “He is busy. Anyway, I told you this morning, we do not have the results.”

“I do not believe you,” I said. I lifted Soo-bo to my hip and marched to the staircase.

“Wait,” Mrs. Min shouted. “You can’t go there. Stop!” She swung around the reception desk and came after me.

I kept walking and was at the top of the stairs before Mrs. Min could catch me. Mr. Park was at his desk. With Soo-bo still on my hip, I marched to him and bowed my head. Mrs. Min came up from behind.

“Sir, I want to see Mr. Han,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park,” Mrs. Min said, panting. “She came in without permission.”

Mr. Park frowned. “You can’t come in here like this. You have to…”

The office door opened and a tall, graying-haired man in a smooth, blue suit stepped out. Mr. Park stood and bowed. “What’s going on out here?” asked the man.

“This woman has come in here without permission, sir,” Mr. Park said.

The tall man looked at me. “What do you want?”

I lowered Soo-bo to the floor and bowed. I reached inside my pocket and gripped the comb. “Sir, several weeks ago, Mr. Park gave me translations to do as a test for a translator position. I have been waiting to hear the results. Colonel Crawford of the American Eighth Army told me that I should give you his name.”

“I know the Colonel well,” the man said. “Tell me what you know about him so I know you’re telling the truth.”

“Sir, he enjoys Old Fitzgerald bourbon and his hero is General Robert E. Lee of the Confederacy of the South.”

The man smiled. He looked at Mr. Park. “We still need a translator. Why haven’t you checked her work?”

“Sir,” Mr. Park said, “Mrs. Min told me this woman was no longer interested in the position.”

The man glared at Mrs. Min. “Well, obviously Mrs. Min is wrong.” Mrs. Min bowed low and scurried away.

“Do you still have this woman’s translations?” the man asked.

“Yes sir,” Mr. Park answered.

“Check them immediately,” the gray-haired man said over his shoulder, as he walked back inside his office.

*

I was nervous as I sat in a leather chair in the attorney’s newly carpeted office while Soo-bo waited outside. An enormous bookshelf behind Mr. Han’s rosewood desk dominated his office. In it were hundreds of books. At the desk, Mr. Han was reading my translations that, moments earlier, Mr. Park said I had done perfectly.

“I should ask how you met Colonel Crawford,” Mr. Han said, over the top of his reading glasses, “but I probably don’t want to know.”

“Sir,” I said, “I will do a good job for you.”

“I believe you will.” He set the translations on the desk and took off his glasses. “Ja-hee, a company lives on the honorable conduct of its employees. I am going to hire you based on Colonel Crawford’s recommendation. You might have done things in your past that we should leave in your past. But from now on, you need to uphold the honor of this company.”

“I understand. I will. Thank you, sir.”

“Good,” the attorney said. “Welcome to the Gongson Construction Company.”