South Korea’s Drunken Uncle
By Gillian Farber
On December 19th at approximately 8:30am, Kim Jung Il, former dictator of North Korea, was pronounced dead from a stroke. A headline so monumental, a milestone in history, if you will, that the rest of the world was informed about a staggering three days later. On Thursday, December 22, South Korea woke up to find their neighboring country in a state of national mourning over the death of their leader.
Kim’s regime lasted seventeen years and was harshly criticized for human rights abuses and isolationism. Nevertheless, news clips and videos were leaked from North Korean media portraying their citizens’ alleged lamentable despair. Tears filled the streets of North Korea’s capital, Pyongyang, giving witness to the world of a devastated nation consumed with grief by their former leader’s death. Or so it was displayed.
This is my second year teaching English in South Korea. Throughout my time here, I have experienced a unique culture, tradition and language. With North Korea just a few hours’ drive, news of Kim Jung Il’s death hit much closer to home than it would have living in Toronto, Canada. There have been various occasions where family and friends in North America have called or sent worrisome emails asking the state of North Korea’s military and how South Koreans are dealing with the persistent threat of war. I try to put it simply. It seems to me as though South Koreans think of North Korea as that inappropriate drunk uncle. You know he’s always there and sometimes he acts up for attention but for the most part, you ignore his pitiful outbursts and just let him be. Hopefully, one day, he’ll come around.
After a few days of having the news sink in, it was obvious that the South had a different way of mourning a dictator’s death, specifically their unpredictable neighbor. Walking into class Wednesday morning, it quickly became clear that my elementary school students were made aware of the fallen leader. “Kim Jung Il is dead, Kim Jung Il is dead!” they cheered with naïve smiles plastered across their young faces. These were empty words. Words they most likely heard their parents or news broadcasters repeat, but it held no emotional connection. Laughter and a certain stillness filled the classroom. It seemed to me that these eleven-year-old children were not thinking long-term. All they knew was an evil man their parents hated died today.
Not all Korean people however, felt the same joy and satisfaction that some of my students revealed. Kim’s 28-year-old son, Kim Jung Un, is next in line to continue ruling this nuclear armed yet depressed country. Thus, it’s not surprising that uncertainty has shrouded his father’s death and instilled fear in the general public in and around South Korea.
Dr. Sanghyo Ryu, Chief Neurologist at Good Morning Hospital in Gwangju, was informed about Kim’s death over the television while he was making rounds. Dr. Ryu reflected a general sense of what I was hearing around me from many South Koreans. Dr. Ryu is among those who were pleased to hear the news but also concerned for what the future may entail. “He deserved to die early with agony,” he told me but continues, “I’m now worried about the tension between South Korea and North Korea and China’s ambition for taking over the North,” explained Dr. Ryu. “If it happens, I think it’s a matter of time for China to take over the entire Korean Peninsula”. Like many Koreans, Dr. Ryu hopes for an active exchange between the North and the South, but believes this may be unrealistic. “Factoring in the situation going on between China and North Korea, this reunion seems to be a far-fetched dream”. But a dream nonetheless.
My fellow teachers in Gwangju come from all over the world: Canada, South Africa, the USA, Great Britain, Germany – it’s like a microcosm of the United Nations. Like me many did not know how to feel with the news of Kim Jung Il’s passing. We felt the palpable fear in the streets, and while our knowledge of Korean is limited, we could hear the fear in the voices of our Korean teaching colleagues. In the two years I have lived here I have come to understand that North Korea is the proverbial albatross that hangs around the neck of this vibrant democracy.
No one outside North Korea knows for sure how North Koreans felt on December 19th and will probably never know. What we do know is an impoverished and potentially dangerous country has become the center piece of the world’s attention. And while my young students cheer today their parents and grandparents continue to wonder and worry about the future.
The views expressed in this article are those of the writer.