Chapter Text
It was Christmas Day. Rather, Canadian Christmas Day. Shane and Ilya were over at Yuna and David’s home again. After a lazy morning of gift opening, Ilya and David worked on a puzzle as Shane and Yuna quietly watched a pre-recorded hockey game.
Amidst the murmur of the TV, Yuna stood up and stated, “Okay. Listen up.”
David, smiling ruefully, looked up from the puzzle. Ilya dropped his piece.
“Okay Mom,” Shane replied warily.
“All right,” Yuna started. “Shane, your Halabeogi (grandfather) and Halmoni (grandmother) really want to see you again. They also want to meet Ilya in person. We’ve started talking about how this can happen. I know that your last visit to Korea was a bad experience for you. And gay rights in Korea are…” her lips pursed. “Frankly, really shitty.”
She frowned before she continued her spiel. “But if they’re to visit us — well, they’re in their eighties and it’s a twenty hour flight from Seoul to Ottawa. I’m afraid that’ll be too much for them.”
She took a breath. “So, what I need to know is this: what is acceptable to you and Ilya? Do you want to visit Seoul anyway? You two would probably be okay as long as you are prudent in public. Or, we can meet at the midpoint between Korea and Ottawa, which would be Vancouver. However, that’s a twelve hour flight for them, which is still fairly long.”
“Or,” she paused dramatically, “We can meet in Hawaii, which is six hours for him but considerably further for us?”
She then concluded, “What do you two think? And when would be a good time for you two? The summer, correct, after the Centaurs win the cup?”
(Ilya was always touched by Yuna’s unending faith that her boys would win the cup.)
Shane, stunned by Yuna’s word vomit, didn’t seem to be able to say anything.
Yuna’s not giving us the option to refuse, I see. Still, it sounds like it’ll be fun and Shane will probably agree to go, after he mulls it over. Ilya quickly responded before Shane could say anything.
“Yuna! This is surprise, but good, eh?” He smiled widely. He had “met” Shane’s grandparents via Zoom, but since the other loud and numerous relatives dominated the call, his quieter grandfather and grandmother sat in the background, forgotten.
“I would love to meet Shane’s grandparents in person! And no,” he frowned, “Flight from Korea to Ottawa is too far for them.” Ilya thought aloud. “Visiting Korea doesn’t sound like good idea in general. Hm. Hawaii sounds best, since it’s shortest flight and them.” He added, pondering some more, “We will pay for first class so they can lie down and be more comfortable.”
“Ah,” he continued, “Is long flight for us, but we are young and tough. And first class for us too, so it will make flight easier. How long is flight to Hawaii from Ottawa, Yuna? Do you know?”
“Twelve hours,” she answered promptly. Ah, Yuna the Efficient Manager has already looked into this. She must have been researching for at least a month before talking to us. “Halabeogi said that Hawaii is the best option for them, as long as they can fly a couple of days earlier before we arrive. They want to have time from the travel time so when we’re there, they’ll be able to hang out with us. If I can arrange that, they said they should be good.”
Finally Shane looked like his brain restarted. “Uh, okay Mom? Hawaii sounds great? Uh, yeah! So both Halabeogi and Halmoni will come, right? Any other relatives?” His face started turning apprehensive. “Wait, does this visit include all of them?” he squeaked.
Yuna looked at him blankly before realization kicked in. “Oh my god, no Shane!” she laughed. “Your Kun-eemo (older aunt) and either of her kids may come, more or less to make sure Halaboegi and Halmoni will be okay on the flight, but it won’t be the whole clan.” She chuckled. “It’ll be a nice, peaceful, and quiet gathering for everyone.”
At Shane’s sigh of relief, Yuna said, “Okay!” She clapped her hands. She added brightly, “Give me a date, and we’ll start booking flights and arrange a place to stay!”
***
After planning, Zoom calling and bickering, everyone finally made it to Maui. It helped that Yuna was so organized. Also, the Korean relatives easily acquiesced to her demands when Shane’s grandparents made it abundantly clear that this trip was her project, especially since all of them had opinions. (They seem to have opinions on everything, I see. Even things that they aren’t directly involved in, Ilya amusedly thought.)
Halabeogi and Halmoni were, in general, quiet and observant. They watched everyone, calculating with intelligent eyes. Halmoni particularly seemed extremely prone to detail: when she saw Shane shudder imperceptibly as he tried to force down a bite of Spam during breakfast, she quietly moved the rest of the slice off his plate and added sigeumchi namul (seasoned wilted spinach) instead. Another time, when she saw how bothered he was by the general chaos of all the shoes at the entryway, she quickly lined them up neatly and briefly smiled when Shane’s shoulders relaxed.
Shane does that for me. He doesn’t ask what I want or what’s wrong. Instead, he just watches and quietly makes things easier for me. Maybe he takes after Halmoni.
On the second morning of Shane’s and Ilya’s stay, Halabeogi and Ilya were the only ones awake. Halabeogi had asked in his still fluent English if they could walk along the beach while the sun was rising. Ilya agreed amiably. While they had talked briefly the day before, it was difficult to have any long lasting conversations as the more gregarious Yuna, his… Eemo? (Aunt) — everyone told Ilya to call her that, although he wasn’t quite sure how she was specifically related to Shane — and her daughter, Grace, dominated the room.
On the paved path alongside the beach, Halabeogi, a short, surprisingly spry and fit man especially because of his old age, talked a bit about the beauty of Hawaii. As they arrived at an empty bench, he stopped and gestured to it. “Let’s rest for a while, Ilya,” he suggested.
“Yes, of course!” Ilya agreed.
After sitting in a comfortable silence, Halabeogi spoke up.
“You’re a lot like me. We both moved to a new country, not knowing the language and we were put in a box. That box was too binding and too small for Yuna-ummah (Yuna’s mama) and me, so that’s why we moved back to Korea.”
He continued, “I also had good opportunity to work in a clinic that helped the poor. That was my dream for my whole life, treating the people who couldn’t easily get care because of poverty. So when my college friend had an opening for me, I took it.”
Halabeogi looked out at the ocean as he spoke. “Korea changed while we were in Canada, and Korea isn’t what I remembered it to be, either. We were gone so long and I forgot that Korea would change as well.”
“However, we won’t go back to Canada, either. Canada changed while we were in Korea, so even that country not what we remember it to be.”
“So,” he shrugged. “Yuna-umma and I are still at in-between in different worlds: Old-Korea and Present-Korea and Old Canada and new one.”
“We make do and enjoy the world we want most: present Korea. And we have family and people we love, and we eat good food. The best things in life, eh?” he ended on a very Canadian note with a cheeky grin and nudged Ilya’s shoulder with his own.
Then he laughed to himself.
Ilya genially grinning asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, sorry,” Halabeogi replied. “I was just thinking of the awful Western food Yuna-ummah made when we lived in Canada.”
“For years, Yuna-ummah made spaghetti for dinner. Once a week. But spaghetti sauce was like soup because she always added extra jar of water. She did not know until we moved back to Korea that sauce was supposed to be eaten without added water.”
He chuckled. “No one liked it. I did not like very much. Yuna-ummah said tomato too acidic and hurt her stomach but I think it was an excuse for her not to eat. Even Yuna didn’t like it. But Yuna-ummah,” he smiled fondly, “Made it once a week. For years. Years. To make Yuna more Canadian.” His smile faded.
“Maybe, now that I am old and can think more of the past, we should have made Yuna more Korean food. We did not know Canadian food very much. And maybe we should have made Yuna speak more Korean, be more Korean than Canadian. Maybe that would have made Shane have an easier life.” He sighed.
“Yuna tells me how hard it is for Shane in Canada. I thought racism would be better with time, but it’s not better enough. When Yuna-ummah and I decided to move to Montreal, we didn’t think about racism. But still. Even with racism and hard times for Yuna and Shane, it was still good decision to leave Korea.”
“We, well,” he paused before he continued, “I did not tell Yuna real reason why we moved to Canada. This is not secret, but I don’t know how to tell Yuna before. But there is a strong reason why we moved to Canada for Yuna. We wanted her to have a better life. And she does, even with all the challenges for her in Canada,” he stated with conviction.
He started explaining. “See. I was poor growing up. We were under Japanese occupation so Koreans were second class citizens. We were not treated well. My family and I were very poor. We were so poor we didn’t have enough food for all of us. I am so short because of childhood malnutrition. There were many, many nights that I was too hungry to be able to sleep.”
Ilya was stunned at this revelation. I had no idea. I’m betting Shane doesn’t know any of this, either.
Halabeogi continued. After the Japanese left Korea, we were still poor. But my oldest sister got married to a rich man.”
Halabeogi stopped, lost in his thoughts as he gazed at the sea. Quieter, he continued, “My oldest sister made sure we ate. Because her husband’s family was rich, she brought food to me and my family. Because of her, I was able to eat and grow and become healthy and strong.”
He added, “My oldest sister also helped me and my family when Korean War happened. We moved to as far south in Korea, at the very bottom of country, and stayed in a place that my oldest sister’s rich family owned. So we were safe because of my oldest sister. She helped us a lot.”
“But,” his voice shook a little. “Korea, especially back then, was very cruel to some women. When a girl marries, she gives up her family and becomes part of the husband’s family. My sister’s husband’s family was very traditional and strict so we did not see her very much after she married. Also, in the husband’s family there is an order of who everyone listens to and who does not. What is the word? Authority?”
Ilya said softly, “Hierarchy?”
“Ah, yes! Hierarchy of power. My oldest sister married the fourth son. With women in a family, the female with the most power is the oldest son’s mother; then the oldest son’s wife, then the next oldest son’s wife, and so on. My sister was at the bottom.”
Halabeogi looked sad. “Koreans don’t like to talk about it, but sometimes there is a lot of abuse, physical and mental, to girls who have no power like my sister. She was one of them. Her mother in law was cruel to her. Everyone else in husband’s family was cruel as well. She got blame for everything, even things she did not do.”
Ilya murmured, “She was scapegoat, yes?”
Halabeogi nodded solemnly. “Yeh (yes).” He continued, resigned.
“And before Yuna was born, my oldest sister killed herself because it was too hard for her.”
Silence. Shocked silence. Ilya’s mind blanked before it restarted in a jumble. He understands me. He meant it when he said we were a lot alike. Like Mama. Oh my god. Shane doesn’t know this. If Yuna didn’t know, then he doesn’t. Oh my god. Oh my god. This poor man. His poor sister. Oh my god.
They sat still, the gentle breeze rustling Halabeogi’s hair and the sound of the waves lapping nearby.
After a while, Halabeogi continued to speak. “Right before she died, she went to our Eomoni (mother) and asked for help. At the time, I did not understand why because I was so young. I thought why would she want to come back to our poor house? She has food all the time! She has nice clothes! And Eomoni said to her, ‘We are not your family anymore. Husband’s family is your family. We cannot help you,’ and sent her back.”
He sighed again. “After I knew how cruel her husband and his family were to her, I was angry, very mad at Eomoni for long time for not helping her. But now that I am old and can think clearer, I understand why she say that. I do not forgive, but I understand.”
He said earnestly, “Eomoni was not bad parent. Back then, that was the way it was. Sons stay in family. Daughters are gone forever when they marry. And Eomoni had so many problems. So many problems. She take care of six children. She has husband who gambled and drank most of the money while her children went hungry. And she was so, so poor but my oldest sister’s husband and his family were so, so rich. They had so much power, and Eomoni had none. What could she do? If she took my oldest sister back in, her husband’s family could go to our house and drag her back and beat her more for leaving and Eomoni could do nothing. Rich family could make Aboji (father) lose his work and we would be even more poor. We would lose extra food my oldest sister gave to us. So Eomoni had no choice and could not help her.”
While Ilya’s brain was still stuttering, Halabeogi slightly smiled, thinking of softer memories. “My oldest sister was gentle and so kind. So kind. She was quiet, like me. She would see me when my other brothers and sisters were too loud. She would take me out of the house and we would go walking where it was peaceful. When I couldn’t sleep because I was so hungry, she would lie with me and rub my belly and sing or tell me stories to distract from stomach pain.”
His eyes lost in thought as he grew regretful, he continued, “When I grew older, I realized the food she sent us was probably her own meals. She snuck them to us and got in trouble for it. But she kept doing it. Over and over and over.”
“And I know there was big cost for her to keep us safe during the war. Even now I don’t want to think of that cost.” He breathed out.
“When she died, I learned why she killed herself. Her marriage and her husband’s family were too mean to her and she had no one to help her. She was alone. Police would not help. Friends could not help. Back then, this was the way it is. Even though she helped me and my family so much, we could not do anything for her. We were so powerless, my family and my eldest sister.”
He squared his shoulders as he concluded, “And so when Yuna was born, I did not want this for her. I wanted no chance she would like eldest sister. Because my oldest sister suffered so much, I wanted to make sure that my Yuna would never, ever suffer like her.”
He smiled again. “And so we moved to Canada, and Yuna grew up cursing at the TV during hockey games.” He chuckled proudly. “Yuna, little quiet Yuna, cursed like a professional hockey player at the TV! She got in trouble for it once. She was so mad at me though because we wouldn’t let her see who won.”
His laugh died down but he still had a faint grin. “So Yuna became Canadian. She married a nice man, David. David treat her like real person, listen to her and is so kind to her. She raised beautiful baby boy and he became a professional hockey player, best in the world. And her son and his handsome husband made a group that would have helped my wonderful, beautiful sister, but will help other people like her now. So I have no regrets that we emigrated to Canada. I am sad a little that Yuna and Shane don’t know very much about Korea, but that is worth the price to see Yuna be so happy and alive.”
Ilya couldn’t help the tears in his eyes when he finally responded. “God, I am so sorry. And thank you for bringing Yuna to Canada. Thank you for telling me this. And I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”
Halabeogi patted his hand, and then put his arm around Ilya’s broad shoulders as his tears escaped. “You can tell Shane if you want. No secrets between husband and husband, right? I need to tell Yuna, and I will while we’re here. I think it would be good for her to know about her kind, kind Kun-gomo.”