Korea

Unreached Villages currently supports a missionary family and a single missionary in Korea. Due to the politically volatile nature of that field, efforts and names may be withheld from the updates. We are able, however, to convey occasional writings which will hopefully provide you with somewhat of a glimpse into their world. At present we are only offering these updates from the missionary living in the city. We hope to be able to offer some images from that area in the near future. Following are two of the latest updates.

The Latest From Seoul

(Dated March 26th, 2009)

Dear Friends,

I just closed my books, and stretched. I have a few minutes now, and will try to pull my thoughts together enough to write an update with some semblance of chronology and coherency. We shall see.

As you know, my sister left three days ago. It was refreshing to be able to bounce my thoughts and ideas off of her, and I was very glad for the excuse to be able to push some of my normal activities to the back burner and take a breather. It was such pleasant, relaxed month! By contrast, I always feel something like a rudderless boat after a visitor leaves: little bit disconnected, unfocused, and generally feeling like I wouldn’t be any worse off for a good shake or a splash of cold water. It will pass. It always does. In a week or two, I’ll feel normal again (whatever that may be). Meanwhile, I try to keep busy so that I don’t have too much thinking time.

And it’s not difficult to find things to keep busy with. My teacher from the last semester, Ms. Oh, is writing an ‘introduction to Korean’ book for Western beginners. Her English is not really that good, so I’m not sure why she’s the one writing it. But, be that as it may, she needs a lot of help correcting and proof reading. So she gives me her papers, I cover them with red, and then we get together for coffee or lunch, and discuss the corrections I’ve made. In return, she has offered to help tutor me. I haven’t yet taken her up on the offer, though. She’s a sweet lady, but her teaching style drives me nuts.

On Wednesday afternoons I go next door to visit with my landlady for an hour or so. She’s an elderly woman, so she doesn’t get out much, and enjoys the company. She’s also a Jehovah’s Witness, and has taken it upon herself, personally, to convert me. We first began studying the Bible/JW tracts together while I was in level 2, and she charged along at such a rate that I understood, generously, one word in ten. In those long ago days I consoled myself with the memory of how Naaman was pardoned for inadvertently bowing with his master in the temple of Rimmon, and was quite sure that God would be equally gracious to me if I inadvertently agreed to some heresy. But I can no longer be so easily let off the hook. I understand about ninety percent of the dialogue (or monologue, to be more accurate). It makes for more interesting conversation, but yesterday we got to the part where she explained to me that Jesus is merely a created being, and no deity. I can listen quietly to her beliefs of who the 144,000 are, and of where heaven is or isn’t located, but I could not, of course, let her think that I agree with her understanding of Christ. With all my heart, I was hoping the subject would never be brought up, because it would place me in such a culturally sticky situation. I’m not supposed to contradict my elders, you see. Particularly not a woman of her age. I’m not even supposed to let on that I think differently, because that would indicate that I consider my thoughts better than hers, which would reek of egotistic individualism, not to mention disrespect. My teacher once told me that the import of submission to one’s superior is so strong that Korean children are scolded when they come up with more clever ideas than their parents, even when those ideas, so far from contradicting, are in line with the adults’ thoughts. So I was in something of a pickle, trying to think how to be respectful without agreeing with that which I could not. I managed to muddle through, though I was never given enough space to explain my beliefs. Every time I began, “Yes, I can understand that, but…” she would cut me off, with “If you understand, how can you say ‘but’?” and then take her explanation back to the very beginning and go at it again. It didn’t really bother me not to be able to tell her why I think as I do, but I can become a bit mulish and ruffled when another’s ideas are shoved down my throat in such a manner, so several times I had to remind myself that the miscommunication lay not with her, but at the door of our cultural differences. She was patient with me, albeit rather excited and upset. All things end, though, and so did this. We’ll probably hash it out from the beginning all over again next week.

School wraps up in two months. Unbelievable. I do look forward to being done! I’ve applied to volunteer at an orphanage over the summer, and am hoping that I’m accepted. I need the opportunity to practice Korean in an everyday setting, but aside from that, I think it will be really good for me to invest my time and energy into something other than the language and (vicariously) myself. I hope to hear back from them by the end of this month.

Thank you all so much for the gifts that you sent with Naomi! They blessed me very much, and made me miss you all the more. But it was a good sort of missing; rather more fond than wistful. I really appreciate the amazing friendships that God has blessed me with! He is good…and I’ve just decided that that’s the only un-random thing about my life.

Fondly,
[name withheld]

An Earlier Update

(Dated Feb 21, 2009)

Dear Friends, It's such a pleasure to have a quiet moment to say hello.  I feel like I haven't written for quite a while…certainly it seems longer than just a month ago.

Three days ago [my sister] arrived. It's so pleasant to have someone to talk to and be with! I'm looking forward to showing her my world. I'm also looking forward to a breather. Some of you know what uphill work this last semester has been for me, in so many ways. These last two weeks, particularly, have been remarkably difficult, as level five bowled toward an end. But the grueling effort was not wasted: I found out yesterday not only that I passed level five, but also that I aced all my tests. Now that it's over I feel exhausted, relieved and satisfied. And grateful. God has been faithful, once again.

We studied 'titles' in class, just recently.  By 'titles', I mean the English equivalent of Father, Aunt, Sister, etc.  It's important to know these titles, because Koreans, like Westerners, would never call their parents or grandparents by their given names. But Koreans take it a step further. They call every person they're related to by a title, which really serves in place of the word 'you'. This wouldn't be so bad if aunts and uncles were just aunts and uncles, and nothing more. In English it doesn't matter that the aunt is my dad's sister, as opposed to my mom's sister. She's still an aunt. But not so in Korea. Here there are different titles, not only for maternal and paternal aunts and uncles, but also for how old they are in relation to your parents, and whether or not they joined the family by marriage.

And, speaking of in-laws, you should understand that one's older brother's wife is called by a different title from one's younger brother's wife (similarly with brothers-in-law, depending upon the age of the sister), and each are changed again depending upon the sex of the one addressing that unfortunate woman. Every person in a family tree is called by a different title from every other person, depending on where they stand in age or by marriage.

Why stop there, though? If some is good, more is better, right? One's older friend's girlfriend is called something different from one's younger friend's girlfriend, and (again) this depends upon the sex of the speaker. In the office, each person has his own title, according to rank, and according to whether one is speaking of the individual or to the individual. At the grocery store I'm 'Sonim,' at school I'm 'Haksang,' to a stranger I'm 'Agashi,' and to a friend I'm 'Onni.' There's a title for everyone and everything,  and I hope that my Korean fish isn't offended that I call him by nothing but his name.

Of course, the poor foreigner, who is hopelessly mixed up in such cases, may always revert to the ambiguous 'you.' That's a different 'you,' needless to say, according to whether the 'you' is a lover, a close friend, someone who deserves a scold, or someone with whom one wants to pick a fight (ironically, the same 'you' as the lover's 'you').

So, why am I telling you all this? Because the conclusion makes me laugh:

With my blue eyes and light (relatively) hair, I rather stand out at school. And my school name, Lisa, is easy for people to remember.  As a result, a lot of people from other class rooms know who I am, so when we meet in the hall, they bow and greet me,

'Is Lisa passing time well?'

I nod, and would like to reply in kind, but in nine cases out of ten I've no idea what the person's name is. So I reply,

'Yes. I'm sorry, though, I've forgotten your name.'

But there are so many people, and with such odd names (from all over the world), that no matter how many times I'm told a person's name, I can't seem to remember it. And one can only say 'I'm sorry, I've forgotten again…' so many times. I draw the line at four. After that it begins to sound rude.

Of course, rather than replying 'Yes, and how about Whangshi?', I could always just ask, 'and how about you?' At least, it seems to me that I should be able to. Surely there must be a 'you' with which one addresses an acquaintance. But, of all the odd twists of language, there's not. How can there be a title for every person and relationship under the sun, save one with which to address the man to whom I'm speaking?!

I asked a Korean friend, and after giving it several moments of very serious thought, he concluded, 'The best method, is just to memorize all their names.'

Help.

I wanted to write about a few more things, but this email has already taken a week or so to compile. A few sentences here, and a paragraph there, as I get time. I think that now, with [my sister] here, if I put it off any longer, it will become outdated before it ever gets sent. The thought I would like to end on is that it occurred to me a few days ago that, if nothing more will have been accomplished by my three years residence in Korea than that I should have learned to trust and love my God, it will have been a three years well spent.

God is good,
[name withheld]