A+Korean+girl+(12+years+old)1


 * [[image:ant_farm_picture_harin.png width="173" height="243" align="left"]]Name**: Park Kum-Joo/Sakaki Choko
 * Age**: 12
 * Gender**: Female
 * Occupation**: none
 * Appearance**: black hair, brown eyes, average height, small build,
 * Location**: Zenra-Hokudo (aka Jeollabuk-do)
 * Personality/Quirks/Unique Personality Traits**:
 * Family**: middle class, merchant father, younger brother (8), younger sister (5)
 * Education**: inherited knowledge given down by mother
 * Languages you speak**: Korean, Japanese
 * Your main concerns at this time and in life**: the coming of age, education

School is another day of bore. My father reminds us over and over about how I should never listen to these lectures. Since my father’s priorities are far superior to the sensei, according to my mother, I guess I should be devoting myself to some other activity. Eventually, I fell asleep. Luckily I didn’t get caught. My friend gave me a brief smile before we proceeded to at least look alert. When school ended, I walked home with my friends. We jabbered in mixed Korean and Japanese. My friends were so interested in the new telephone lines that were installed. They looked like naked trees with thick black rope stretching across them. When I reached home, there were several foreign shoes and they looked worn. I guess my father had visitors today. Not much of a big deal. My mother called me after I finished unpacking and changing. I went down to help her with preparing dinner. By the amount of food we had prepared, we were setting up for those visitors too. Quietly I did my chores with methodic motion, by now my mother let me just help her, especially since my brother and sister were enough of a chore to her. Dinner was eaten with my siblings and mother. My father and his visitors had their own private space in the guest room, and by no permission were any of us allowed to be there, except I guess when they requested for things, mostly being alcohol and more food. Eventually they were loud enough that we did not have to be near to hear their conversations. They were talking in Korean, and said words I did not fully understand, I’m guessing it was about some type of businesses or political ordeal, as my mother would put it. I did overhear that there was another minor strike of Korean students, but they were beaten down severely. By now I had to go sleep, but I didn’t fall asleep immediately. The guests fell asleep before I did, so my father came out and talked to my mother about amount of pride we were casting aside for the country to be run by people who ran on clattering sandals. I wondered what they meant by pride. What exactly were we casting aside that I had to hold onto the Korean language and ignore the lectures of the sensei? None of this made complete sense to me.

Another day, another morning with some chores and then I head to school. The streets are lined with telephone poles and lines, each one piercing the ground with some kind of emanating force. I felt so small next to them. When my friends approached me I felt better. I heard a rumor about the infamous car, a carriage with no horses that ran by on its own. When we got near school several sempai were gathered around one person who claimed to see the famed car. Amongst my friends, we knew we had no say in their elitist older group so we headed to class. Today’s lecture was concentrating on the Tokugawa reign in Japan. It seemed out of context to claim that Japan was once an isolated nation. At lunchtime we ate our lunches. There were always several students who would wander around and claim their part of the meal since they didn’t get any packed lunch. But they only picked upon those students who were alone. Huddling together, my friends and I used our numbers to eat in peace. Our square lunch tins had pure white rice with umeboshi. If we didn’t have this, the teacher would take away our lunch since it did not resemble the Japanese flag. After lunch we had our worshipping period. We had to quietly sit in front of the mini shrine next to our school. The incense made my eyes sting. When we finally got to leave I saw my peers were also bleary eyed and blinking rapidly from the irritating incense. When we were outside I saw the car! It was completely black and it truly looked like a carriage that had no horse. How did it run? Many of my friends were also curiously looking at it. The Japanese man in the car beckoned to us. We all gingerly came closer and took a look. The car rumbled and growled and yet we all still came closer. The man in the car offered us a ride. We all started to wrestle each other to get a ride. This was an opportunity of a lifetime! We scrambled and I remember pulling this girl’s braid but I got into the car nonetheless. There were five other girls in the car. My friend was amongst them. Then the man started to drive the car. We were all excited. It was thrilling to ride and watch the telephone poles pass by quickly and the scenery moving on. But things were starting to get weird. We were getting farther ad farther away from our school. We tried to talk to the Japanese man but he shouted at us. He also mentioned something that sounded like Tojo and Ryoma. But what could we do? And the car drove on.

I don’t know where I am. After the car we were all dumped onto a road and these Japanese soldiers came and separated us into groups. There were other girls around. Some of them were my age; some were older. We were scared, what was going to happen to us? Even though we were all sorted, it was almost evening before we were moved again. I heard bits and pieces, be-to-na-mu? Where was this? We took another long walk until we were packed into yet again, another car. The novelty of riding it was obviously gone. Some girls were crying, but I was silent. The steady rumbling of the car and the monotonous sounds of the girls around me made me fall asleep. It was the ocean apparently: a vast, flat expanse of water, moving and writhing when you took a closer look. There was a large boat in the sea. I remember seeing pictures of boats that our teacher showed us. The soldiers roughly forced us into the boat. We had to climb down inside and we all huddled into a dark room. The many days on the ship I cannot remember. The darkness of the room made the time unknown and the date unknown. We all quietly waited for something, something that would tell us where we were heading. I did not know what to think. We received some food, but we remained silent. Some people tried to talk to the soldiers but I saw a girl get slapped so hard she collapsed to the floor. What was awaiting us? The possibilities terrified us. Alas, we finally reached our destination. We were all weak and dirty from travel. When we got off the boat, many of us collapsed to the ground giddy and not used to the steady rocking of the boat. We were yet again, divided into groups. My one friend was separated from me; she gave me a frightened look and walked weakly to her assigned place. We were again put into cards, or these ones did not have roofs, and we were driven off. The place I was heading was not particularly far, as we reached the soldier base relatively soon. Then we were lead to a section and dumped into a little dug out room that had a tent as a roof.

Over time I befriended the only constant person that remained with me. Her name was difficult to pronounce, eventually I just called her Ee-Ja. She was one of those foreigners I had heard before, with pale skin and pretty green eyes. We silently accepted the treatment we received. Every night, we cried. As time passed, our shoulders sagged and our faces lost hope. We were constantly consumed by some sickness but yet the soldiers always returned. I only saw one complaint, and the girl was beaten to death. We were frightened. We were so scared as to the outcome of this situation. What were we going to do? Ee-Ja taught me some English when we had our peace. She scrawled letters in the dirt. I eventually knew the spelling of her name: Isabelle. Hope came to us when suddenly we were free. We were free of imprisonment, free of the terrible things that we would never speak of. Ee-Ja took me with her when she was told she could leave. I heard that the war was over. We both were joyous, but I realized I had no way to return home. Ee-Ja’s home is very large. She introduces me to her sister, Cecile? She kindly lets me stay, and we can communicate in some broken Japanese. I wondered about my family, my brother, my sister and my parents. How were they? It pained me to not know. But I had a better life for now and I helped as much as I could on the plantation I lived on now. I learnt that rubber came from trees and everyday the trees needed maintenance. My health returned. Life was less pain and more work. But the work helped me. I liked getting consumed by it so that my thoughts were more of a dull reminder that I actually was a human being. I eventually learnt enough Vietnamese to communicate fully with the people around me. For now, I was safe and I guess that is all I should be thankful about. I kept wondering about my own country. Was Korea okay? I didn’t know. So, I would return to work.

Works Cited "Comfort Women." //THIS PAGE HAS MOVED.//. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 May 2010. . "It continues to be his-story."//April Reign | In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.//. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 May 2010. . soldiers, Russian. "Comfort Women used as sex slaves during World War II."//ReligiousTolerance.org by the Ontario Consultants on Religious Tolerance//. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 May 2010. .