Hello! My Name Is…

Basu Mukul Reaches Out to Immigrants

Photos courtesy of Basu Mukul

이름

Basu Mukul points to the word on the dry erase board.

“Ireum,”says Mukul, exaggerating his pronunciation so that the words linger in the air just as the small gathering of students begins to parrot him.

The word goes through several transformations—from Korean, to English to Hindi—as Mukul translates for his Nepali and Pakistani students. There are only four students—three men, one woman— in the Universal Cultural Center. All are pensively glancing up at Mukul then down at their notebooks during class. Today’s lesson is basic: Where are you from? What do you do? What is your name?

The students’ timidity is equally matched by their teacher’s confidence. He knows that Korean is essential to their success here and he is determined to see them succeed.

A native of West Bengal, India, Mukul began studying to be a yoga monk with Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar—the founder of Ananda Marga—after completing high school. Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar developed a set of socioeconomic and political ideas called progressive utilization theory (PROUT) as an alternative to capitalism and communism. It is through Mukul’s discipline with his yogi that he found a firm philosophy that would be the driving force in his life.

“Our basic concept was that you dedicate your life for the suffering humanity,” says Mukul. “And once you realize you are part and parcel of the universe, there is no nationality and no religion and there is no gender and no identity. You are just part of this universal being just like any other animate or inanimate being in existence. We are all interconnected, correlated and interdependent, so it is our duty to take care of ecological and social issues. Every kind of problem is part of us. “

Mukul first arrived in Korea in 1989 after accepting an invitation from monks at Haeinsa Temple to teach a yoga meditation workshop. He returned a few years later, following the death of his teacher in the early 1990’s, and became a student at Seoul National University. He studied religion as an undergraduate and graduate student. It was during his time at the university that he became aware of injustices in the foreign community in Korea.

“When I was at Seoul National I saw many bad things happening to international students,” says Mukul. “The Ministry of Education didn’t bother and there was no voice for the foreign students. I realized there was no foreign student association…so I went to UNESCO and other human rights organizations and told them what was happening.”

Through his efforts, an international student association was formed at Seoul National University to help guard the rights of the student body. Mukul also used the student association as a platform to launch cross-cultural awareness programs with the Korean community, which became model programs for UNESCO and other cultural organizations.

“[The international students] provided a free interpretation service for factory immigrant workers who were getting sick,” says Mukul. “They used to die because of lack of language.”

After completing his university studies, Mukul traveled around the world giving yoga lectures. It was a 2007 visit to Jiri Mountain for meditation that convinced him to settle in Gwangju. He began working with the Gwangju UNESCO and Gwangju International Center to build various intercultural exchange programs.  Eventually, he opened the Universal Cultural Center. Mukul invested his own money into the center. Programs are run by volunteers and cost participants nothing. The center provides temporary housing and services including Korean language classes. These programs are mainly concerned with supporting international student and immigrant worker communities.

“My main concern was human rights,” says Mukul. “If you talk about the factories, there are certain laws that they are supposed to follow. But they don’t follow them… Even Korean workers working in the factory [are not given adequate breaks]. And nobody speaks up because you are not supposed to speak up against your boss. This is a Confucian tradition that suppresses human rights in Korean society.”

He felt that even if Korean workers had accepted this mindset, some foreign workers had not.

“Sometimes in the past [foreign] workers were beaten and abused,” says Mukul. “…The Department of Labor only seemed to be concerned with siding with the factory owners. I wanted to address these issues.”

A young man shuffles into class 30 minutes late. He takes a seat next to the other students in Mukul’s class and attempts to pronounce a few Korean words unsuccessfully.

“His child is in the hospital,” Mukul later reveals to me. “He and his wife are staying in our guest house.”

At the end of class, Mukul spends time on the phone trying to get the female student a job at a fried chicken restaurant.  She nods and ladles sweet milk-rice porridge into each student’s bowl as Mukul explains the job requirements.

“I believe we have to pay all of our debts,” says Mukul. “After I was born I had debts to my parents, debts to my village, debts to my nation—wherever I am living. This cultural center is paying my debt to Korea…We are all important and the same in the universe. Service to humanity is service to God.”