Year of Impossible Goodbyes: Chapter 7–Epilogue

I stood by the gate watching with fascination as they meandered about, laughing and talking loudly in Russian while eating and drinking.

Mrs. Kim called out in Korean, “Comrades, Comrades! We are all comrades and are all equal in the eyes of Mother Russia. No one will ever again have to worry about being cold or hungry. We will share the fruits of our labors. Our Russian comrades and our party leaders are here to protect us...."

My neighbors started to come out of their homes and were staring at the jeep incredulously.

Then Mother looked sternly at me. I knew what that meant. Everything we talked about here was secret and I must never repeat anything. Inchun also looked at me sternly, and I had to laugh.

Natasha smiled as she saw Aunt Tiger approaching and said, “Arvyong haseyo,” meaning “How are you?” Aunt Tiger was taken aback to hear Natasha greet her in Korean.

We went out into the street and joined the happy masses. It was fun to be part of such a high-spirited and boisterous crowd, laughing and shouting in Korean.

When everyone had arrived, Natasha started singing a spirited tune about the Volga River and Mother Russia. The crowds quickly learned the refrain and began to sing the praises of Communism.

Then she sang a catchy tune that I liked: “We the little proletariat of Mother Russia are secret leaders. Small but important comrades, important leaders. Bad Capitalists, bad Imperialists. Marxism is the best. Our leaders, our leaders, they are our friends. We share equally. We are all friends, we are all equals. Little proletariat can do important work. We are important, we are important, we are important comrades.”

Masses of happy Russian proletarians filled the screen, waving red flags as they marched and danced in Red Square in celebration of May Day.

We donned our red scarves and red arm bands and went outside.

Incessantly, the loudspeaker blared the praises of the great Russian leaders.

I found it harder and harder to tolerate the Korean women who worked so hard for the Party, fervently spreading Communist philosophy.

The monotonous days turned into weeks and then months.

They encouraged us to talk about our families and tell them what we talked about at night. Many of the children told stories about what their families were doing and received prizes for their candor.

My voice was hoarse and my arms ached because I had sung so loudly and waved the flag with the hammer and sickle so vigorously the whole way home.

Mrs. Kim started to bring delicious cookies to the Little Proletariat meetings to give to the children who told all about their families, but Inchun and I were wary.

Mother thanked her profusely for her concern, and Comrade Kim left saying, “Mother Russia and our leaders are generous. If you need more bread to eat, we will give you more. ”

Jaechun had been very sick with tuberculosis and dysentery due to the bad food and the years of hard labor under the Japanese.

We were given the task of making more flags and posters for our town. Mother and Inchun and I copied the propaganda slogans onto large banners and sewed flags at home all day long.

Our ears were so attuned to the atmosphere that no unusual sound or movement could escape our notice.

Aunt Tiger took Mother’s hands in hers and said resolutely, “Listen to me. All these years you were my strength. You were the one always helping me. I came to you as a bitter and spiteful woman whose only remaining objective in life was to get revenge..."

Aunt Tiger took Mother’s hands in hers and said resolutely, “Listen to me. All these years you were my strength. You were the one always helping me. I came to you as a bitter and spiteful woman whose only remaining objective in life was to get revenge..."

Farmers and peddlers were bringing their wares to sell to the passengers on the train.

Farmers and peddlers were bringing their wares to sell to the passengers on the train.

The Russian soldiers and North Korean police, with their guns flung over their shoulders, were walking around the station scrutinizing everyone.

All I could see for miles were rice paddies and fields.

I probably should not have told the man all of this information, but I was so relieved to come upon someone who seemed to understand our plight.

Gesticulating, he pointed to us and then to himself, and I understood that he had a little sister and brother like us at home in his country.

Behind the desk was a stout, bespectacled Russian officer.

This young Communist reminded me of many eager young Korean men I had seen in Pyongyang who espoused Communism.

It came as no surprise to me that the Comrade Major was less ominous.

He also had red epaulets, but in addition had several red patches emblazoned on the front of his uniform.

I looked at Inchun. I didn’t feel like talking, but I hoped he might prattle on about something as my head was aching from trying to think about what we should do next.

I could picture him going back to a small house with a low thatched roof, and warm gray smoke swirling up from the chimney into the dark night sky.

My wet shoes began to squelch in the muddy fields.

The heavy clouds began to dissipate, and we kept running.

I heard the dogs drawing closer and I thrust my body under the wire. The barbs dug into me.

Hyunchun had decided he wanted to be a diplomat and was studying at the Foreign Language University.

But one of the Russian colonels who lived near the border town needed someone to cook and clean for his young wife, who was expecting their first child. Mother became their housekeeper and governess.

No one saw her in the dense monsoon fog, and she walked and walked.