Voices of the Korean Comfort Women: History Rewritten from Memories

Excerpt from my translation of the bookVoices of the Korean Comfort Women: History Rewritten from Memories.

The book has just been published by Routledge in 2023.

Ch’oe Kap-sun Whom We Observed, Heard, and Understood

Pu Ka-ch’ŏng, Translated by Tian Li (from Korean to English)

(174)Her face of over eighty-years-old is full of countless wrinkles. Whenever she smiles brightly like a mischievous child, her wrinkles come alive like a Hahoet’al mask.[1]

At first, the municipal district officer who is in charge of her was concerned about the condition of her health and warned us not to push her in the interviews. However, that was a huge misjudgment. Although she has few friends and spends most of her days without uttering a single word, she sat up with her back straight and told her story for hours on end. Before we even had a chance to properly introduce ourselves and finish preparing to record, we had already plunged into her story. She told us that when she talked to her friends or other people about her painful past life as a comfort woman, they would close their ears to her and just bad-mouth her as “a granny who used to be a comfort woman.” Each time that happened, her heart bled. However, now she said, after all this time, she was relieved as someone, who would believe her, finally showed up. She gave us such a vivid testimony as if she had been storing this truth throughout her life, thinking she would make sure to tell her story if she met someone who would understand it.

On the first day when we visited her, we called out to her from outside the door, there was no response. While we were worrying that she might have forgotten our appointment and gone somewhere, (175) the rattling sound of a door opening came from somewhere, “who is it?” She stuck her face out in the slight opening of the sliding door while she was not able to open her eyes in bright sunshine, she welcomed us in.

The room was built so that not even a single ray of sunshine came in. Taking a closer look, we found it was a room made by blocking the gate and fixing up the yard. An entire wall was taken up by a kitchen sink and a fridge. There was not a single window, so she needed to turn on a dim fluorescent light even in the daytime. The particularly acrid mildew smell enveloped and circulated within the room in which we couldn’t help but keep sneezing and blinking our watering eyes. I thought to myself, “for a woman who, since childhood, has worked diligently and lived honestly through any circumstance, how is it that she should live in a place like this?” However, she said that she was carefully spending the money that the district office gave to her, an old woman who can’t do anything, and she was worried about how she would return the favor before she dies.

On the day we meet her again, she was sleeping in the room and seemed very sick. Because it had rained for several days, she could not go about and was suffering from diarrhea. Her hand was bloated from the tonic shot she got a few days ago. Maybe due to her poor physical condition and glum mood, before we could ask after her, she told us about what her daughter-in-law had done the day before. She couldn't hide her sadness and her eyes glistened with tears. We said, “for all this time, you have saved the money that you earned from working for the Saemaeul (New Village) public employment project, you received from the district office, and that you saved without spending a penny of these hard earnings. You spent it on your daughter-in-law, adopted son, grandson, and granddaughter, but now, please spend the money only on yourself. Spend it on the food that you want and have fun with neighborhood grannies.” She nodded her head and smiled, “yes, I should.”

(176) She was wearing a light hemp chŏgori on that day.[2] I found the embroidered pattern on it was exquisite and beautiful, so I asked her what kind of clothes they were. She said she wove it with her own hands. When the church deacon brought her clothes, she would mend the part that needed work and stack them up in the wardrobe since she felt they are too good to wear. She also showed us those clothes.

She attended the church in front of her home three times per week, without exception. This was because she had many friends, she got free lunches, and she could hear good messages there. She never missed the church outings held once per season. She is happy that at the age of over eighty, she gets to enjoy herself moving around freely.

One year later, when we visited again in order to take a photo of her, there had been many changes in her life. Firstly, she moved from that murky room filled with that moldy smell to the room right next to it, where her adopted son used to live. Her former home the restroom was far removed, so when it rained or snowed in the winter she would worry about slipping, but now, she had no such worries.

Nevertheless, she looked lonelier and seemed to have become feeble. Was this because she aged quickly within this past year or was it because we were not observant to see this side of her. In the past she would sing along the hymn at church and had a peace of mind when praying. But recently, she is not interested in anything, even the soap operas couldn't get her excited. Several days ago, she felt distressed after having lost 250 won playing hwat’u game [3] at the senior center. She didn’t like that other grannies were either drinking or making noise, so she said she is was not going to the senior citizen’s center anymore.

And she said she could not recognize the people whom she just met the previous day due to her blurry memory. She laughed saying that we should not feel bad, if she doesn’t recognize us when she meets us the next time. But wasn’t she the lady who told her story from over seventy years ago as if it was something that had happened yesterday? Even now when she lies in her bed, those memories from the moment she was taken away at the age of fifteen until she came back to her hometown when she turned thirty, still all come back to her. So, and by the time her thoughts reach the time of liberation, the dawn breaks dim. Like this, she is etching the life she has experienced in her memory, every day.

As we were about to take her picture, she suddenly asked “if you put the camera th-is close to my face, wouldn’t my face come out huge, right?” We all laughed at her question. We miss her laughter. In her wrinkles, her innocent expressions, not at all damaged, are breathing alive. Having experienced grinding poverty, critical moments hanging between life and death, and so many people’s betrayals for such a long time, how could she remain such an innocent soul? It is a mystery.

[1] Hahoet’al masks are Korean traditional masks worn in the Hahoe Pyŏlsin-gut t'al nori ceremony (dating back to the 12th century).

[2] Chŏgori is the upper garment of Korean traditional clothes.

[3] Hwat’u, literally means “flower fight.” It is a traditional Korean card game.