My Re-write/Final

Hello! This is my final re-write. It is based on American TV series ‘MASH’. I chose one episode, Officer of the Day (episode 3, season 3), and did re-write from a Korean boy’s point of view.

The boy was about 10-12 years old at that time and he and his little brother accompany his father, a tailor, to the 4077th MASH. MASH is the acronym for Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. It’s situated at the far north of South Korea, a place called Uijeongbu during Korean War (1950-1953). The boy is a small part of the episode. The episode shows that he and his little brother steal everything they can in the hospital while his dad is doing his tailor work. The children and their father are portrayed through the interpretation of staff at the hospital. The boy is now 70 years old and lives in Auckland. It is 15 August 2009.

SPRING
I haven’t been able to get used to this cold. It is supposed to be mild winter, but this cold is terrible. It seems to penetrate even my bones. It is funny that I’m not accustomed to this mild Auckland winter. It can’t actually freeze anything in the street unlike that of Uijeongbu, far north of South Korea. Nevertheless it overwhelms me every winter. I had gone through so much strife in life; war, political turmoil and hunger, but I still feel Auckland’s winter is almost unbearable. When I came to New Zealand the first thing that welcomed me was the sharp sunlight breaking through the window on the aeroplane. All night the plane traveled across the Pacific and now it was about to land in the early morning. The sun in November was so bright that it took a while for me to recover my sight. That strong, sharp and penetrating sun gave me hope and anticipation for the country. However, I didn’t know then that the first harsh winter was waiting. Winter is one aspect of New Zealand I am still adjusting.

It must be my age. The age 70 is not so young after all. I have to admit. It’ll be better once the warmth of the car overtakes my rigid body. However it is now mid-August, spring is almost here. Every year I greet August with a relief and the expectation of warmer and drier weather. The streets are quiet this morning; calm and lazy. It seems that a lot of soccer games have been canceled due to the heavy rain during the last few days. The usual crowd of players and their families on Saturday mornings is not to be seen as I pass the park in my neighborhood. Magnolia trees are blossoming in a few houses heralding the change of season. Magnolia flowers are one of the symbols of spring in Korea. After the dark, dry and cold winter, it was very impressive to look at the soft petals come out from the almost dead black leafless branches. It must have moved many people’s hearts as there are a lot of songs and literary works which praise magnolia blossom. Magnolia flowers in New Zealand did not give me a lot of impressions for the first few years. As I could see green leaves all year round, magnolia flowers couldn’t make me appreciative. However, I have been able to see the subtle but definite changes as I accustomed to this climate and now it gives me a lot of comfort and pleasure.

I stopped at an intersection for the green light. Waiting for the red light to turn green, I turned my head to my right. A police car just stopped next to me. I avoid them turning my head back to the front. This familiar uneasy feeling came upon me as soon as I saw them. A part of me is refusing to get any closer to them. The police have never been a part of my world; I have never been close to them. Maybe it started from very early in Korea, Mother used to threaten us,
‘Sunsa (the Japanese police during their control in Korea, from 1910 to 1945) is here. You’d better keep quiet.’
The threat worked quite well when we were little. My brother Chan and I stopped fighting almost instantly. We didn’t know that the Japanese police had left Korea few years earlier and we didn’t have to afraid of them. We heard numerous terrible stories about sunsa. I’m still not sure how much of them are true. My grandfather’s story is one of them. Japanese policemen took him and sent him to war leaving my grandmother and their two children, my father and an aunt, at home. Life was tough to everyone at the time but tougher for grandmother. I didn’t remember actually seeing a Japanese policeman but Sunsa has somehow managed to haunt me even now in New Zealand.

‘The 64th Korean Independence Celebration’ was written in front of the hall when I arrived at Korean Society of Auckland. Many people, some I know some I do not recognize, already arrived and are chatting. Many of the invited are respected Korean leaders in Auckland. A few organizations, claimed to be advocates of the community, sprang up in the community with the increase of the number of people. People who I associate with are not interested in these organisations. I am not interested in them either. Sometimes, however, I wonder if my indifference is justifiable. Nevertheless I do not have much expectation of so called leaders; I have had more than enough disappointment with leaders. I have never been able to recover from the disappointment over ‘our leaders’ in recent history. Democracy, people’s rights, egalitarian; these words are overused and have lost their true meanings. Power is very powerful. It attracts people, changes them badly and sometimes even destroys them.

The celebrations have now begun. I started singing the Korean anthem with the others but as usual I stopped after few phrases. I couldn’t continue because of the usual emotion. Heavy sensation forms inside me and overtakes my whole body and I do not have any control. I sometimes wonder whether the emotion comes from my school education, my affection for the country or something else I do not realise. Now I experience similar thing when I sing the New Zealand anthem. Few years ago my son took me an international rugby match with his family. That sudden emotion was unexpected and was almost embarrassing. This one is definitely not from education. I presume this comes from 15 years of living in this country. 15 years of my life is spent here; this period has shaped a part of me. I always call Korea my home. It is interesting that I felt foreign when I visited there five years ago. A lot of unexpected changes required me to adjust because I didn’t live through those changes. Without realizing it I had gone through a lot of changes in a new culture as well; my taste, the way to see things etc. My hometown, Uijeongbu, is the one I found with the biggest changes. I haven’t visited there very often since my family moved to Seoul a few years after the war. The village has gone through enormous changes. The industrial movements in the 70s erased all the old houses and the winding little paths in field. I was able to spot some of the roads, the mountains and field. They looked huge to me but not anymore, now they look small and insignificant. I felt I had lost something important. I was not there when they were going through those changes. I remembered that the mountains were wild, strong and even mysterious. I was never bored in the river where I could find something entertaining all the time; swimming, catching fish and collecting shells. The roads were wide to me and gave me anticipation about the future and abundant life. Even the war had brought me exciting things such as the 4077th MASH. It is the first thing that comes to my mind whenever I think of the war.

We have all been busy this morning. The three of us, my father, me and my little brother Chan have been to the mountain to collect wood for the fire. Father cut branches and my brother and I gathered dry pine needles, pine cones and other leaves. There was not much left since the bombing last year. The big tree, where a ghost is said to live, has gone. People say that the ghost wears a long white dress and has long black hair. She walks around the tree at night and kills people who are lost in the mountain. People say that the ghost lived in this village long time ago and was killed by someone. She can’t go to the other world; the world dead people live in, because she needs her revenge. So she wanders around in this world to find her killer. The mountain was filled with large trees and shrubs; it used to be very easy to get lost at night. Village people have to cross the mountain to go to the market in the town. The market is set up every five days and many people from neighboring villages and towns come to sell and buy. People who come back home after dark often have difficulty finding the right path. My classmate Kiwon said that his father has actually seen it once. He was almost caught by the ghost but his father managed to escape. I don’t know if the ghost still lives there after the tree has gone. Mother also says that there are wolves in the mountain. I heard a rumor that a wolf actually came down the village one day and took a baby lying in a basket next to his mother who was busy working in the rice field.
‘Father, do you think the ghost still lives here?’
‘Nonsense. There is no such thing. Anyway, it’s spring now. Thank God, we’re not going to need it as much. The bombs burnt a lot of trees. I don’t know if we can find any rabbits for us to hunt as well.’
I love the rabbit stew mum cooks, it is delicious. When father hunts a rabbit, he prepares it in the back yard. I don’t like to watch but Chan always stays with father, fetching things for him. When father finishes, he brings it to mum. Mum makes stew in a huge iron pot, which is hung at the kitchen. Mum always takes some to grand uncle’s who lives a few houses down from ours. We eat it for many days but I never get tired of it. It’s winter’s special food.

When we arrived home from the mountain we were quite tired. However, Chan and I were excited. We are finally going to the hospital. We are excited to accompany our father, the tailor, to the hospital. It is so much fun and all of my friends envy us. Mother has gone to the field. She didn’t like to stay home with grandmother alone as they don’t get along very well. I don’t like finding out that mother and grandmother had an argument when I come back home from school. That is very uncomfortable news that I don’t like to hear and it troubles me a lot. Grandmother usually finds mother’s faults and grumbles about it. I don’t think grandmother likes mother because she has never said a good thing about her. Mother doesn’t seem to like grandmother either. There is a mother’s habit I hate. She mumbles and complains about grandmother; ill treatment she receives from grandmother and grandmother’s odd behaviours etc. Her grumble is almost like talking to herself but loud enough to trouble me. I hate hearing them. Mother doesn’t like when my cousins visit us as well. My aunt, my father’s sister, lives in the next village. Her family is poor. Mother says that a cousin a lot older than me came and lived in our house for a few years because aunt could not look after her. It was before I was born. It looked like mother has had a hard time looking after her. Once in a while mother and grandmother have a wild and noisy argument. It is very embarrassing to see that people get curious and peep into our house to watch the argument. I wonder why they can’t get along with each other. When they have a big argument grandmother sometimes goes out leaving my angry mother at home. I usually follow her wondering how Chan would cope with our angry mother. However I always think that I’m lucky to have a grandmother. I feel sorry for people who don’t have a grandmother. She is the one who took me to school on the first day at school, collects me from school when I get sick at school, and brings my lunchbox to school when I forget to take it. She makes sure we eat all right and in winter she warms up our shoes in the fire before we go to school.

‘I hope they give you a pass easily. Did you speak to the bartender at the officers’ bar last night?’
‘Yes, mother. He will make sure we get a pass. He knows everyone in the hospital. He promised that the guards would let us in’
‘We are fortunate that we got to know him.’
‘Of course we are. Please don’t worry. We’ll be all right. He’s good to me.’
‘Be careful. We can’t really trust anyone nowadays. Make sure you come back home right away if you hear any sound of battle.’
‘Don’t worry. It has been quiet for few days. They must be quite tired of this war. The negotiation between UN and the Communists is going well. I heard.’
‘You must come back before the dark. The communists are hiding in the valley. I heard they come out at night and attack people.’
‘I will mother.’
Grandmother is worrying about something all the time. Before the war, she was worried about not having enough rain. When the rain started, however, she was worried that rain wouldn’t stop and ruin the crops in the field. Sometimes I see grandmother sitting silently next to me when I wake up early in the morning. I wonder if she’s worried about something. She gets most worried when father doesn’t get home at the expected time. She can’t sit and wait at home. She goes out to the main road, which is the end of our village, and waits for father.
‘The person Grandmother is waiting for might be your grandfather’, said mother one day. He’d never returned from war.’

It took us one hour to get here, the 4077th MASH. I felt tired and suddenly hungry now. We had to walk up the mountain and then go down the hill but we are excited. The air is still chilly but we got warmer not long after we started walking and now we are sweating. In a distance we can see the two flag poles and tent houses scattered in a flat land surrounded by mountains. A stream runs next to the hospital. Last winter’s snow has long gone and poplar trees on the bank are already covered with new green leaves. There must be a lot of trout and mudfish swimming around, it is unfortunate that we are not allowed to fish here. I can’t see the helicopter today. Chan was so afraid of the noise it made when we first saw it. Now we can see it with excitement and awe. Fortunately, we didn’t meet any enemies. I’m scared of meeting them because they are communists; the Red. Cholsu said one day,
‘North Koreans are communists. Communists are wild people and they actually have red skin. They kidnap anyone they meet and make them slaves.’
Youngchol told me later that his uncle’s families in North Korea are not red and they do not kidnap people. He was too afraid to protest to Cholsu though. I feel sorry for Youngchol. However, we must not have anything to do with the communists. Grandmother always says that we don’t belong to the communist.
‘Our names are not on their list. We have to be very careful. A few homes had their names on the list. But they didn’t know what’s happening when they signed the paper.’
I’m not sure if I continue being Youngchol’s friend.

We met a man on the way to hospital. He had hurt his hand while working on his farm.
‘What happened to your hand?’
‘I’ve hurt myself with an ax. I’ve lost a lot of blood. It’s stopped now but it looks very bad so I’m going to the hospital. Do you think they will treat me?’
‘Of course. They are our friends. They have come to help us to destroy the communists. How’s your farm?’
‘We don’t really have much left, you know? We have to pass this spring without enough food’

The hospital was quiet when we arrived. We usually come here on Saturday afternoons; father says that Saturday is good because they do not do much and he can have more customers. Father learned his tailoring from a missionary when he was 15, he also learned English from him. I’m very proud of him when he speaks English. However, our relatives don’t like him because he goes to church. It is because father believes in a western god and throws away our own ancestors and tradition. But father has continued to go to church. He didn’t have many customers for his tailoring. People in a village don’t really need suits. Father wanted to go to Seoul to start a tailor business but grandmother didn’t want to leave the village. So we stayed and he works in the field most of the time. Rarely did he get tailor work. However, father is getting more work from the hospital nowadays.
‘There are gentlemen in the hospital. Gentlemen wear suits.’

The flags have gone now. This place is full of strange things. People here do not use chopsticks. They use funny things to eat meals. I don’t know how they can do that. They talk all the time while eating. My grandmother would have been very cross with them. However, we don’t care.