Sonju, page 3
Second Sister pointed at First Sister with her chin. “Her daughter.”
As if she didn’t hear her mentioned, First Sister with a blank look on her sallow face spooned steaming rice from an iron kettle into a big serving bowl.
On her way back to the veranda, Sonju saw Second Sister’s husband step down from the anteroom wearing Western clothes—a sweater under his casual jacket and wool pants—the same way many men with a modern education did. He was quite a bit taller than her husband with his father’s facial features. He said a morning greeting and bowed to her deferentially, then leisurely walked into the direction of the men’s quarters.
Back in her marriage room, she wondered what her husband’s family expected of her. She had never done kitchen work before, but she could tell that she would be in the kitchen like her sisters-in-law. She didn’t mind really. It would be something to do and an escape from her husband whose hands seemed eager to grab her. Her thought was interrupted when a maid whispered at the door that she was expected in the living room.
A steady flow of people came throughout the day. Bowing, more bowing. Maids set the table, guests left, maids cleared the table and set it again. Sonju sat with her hands together on her raised knee, her eyes downcast, and spoke a few polite obligatory words when she was referred to. Her husband on the other hand went on and on. “Yes, I will work for the government after graduation. As you know, my wife is from Seoul and I hope to get a job there. I will be involved in designing roads and bridges.”
One of the guests nodded. “Yes, we need more roads and bridges. Look how our lives have changed since the Han River bridge was built and the railroads were laid.”
To which another guest said, “The Japanese used them to steal our resources.”
Father-in-Law said, “They took our farmland and took our rice to feed their people.”
Brother-in-Law said, “They also took our very valuable artifacts.”
“Not only that,” a guest said extending his arm and shaking his index finger, “those leaders they tortured and killed were our national treasures.”
Another guest said, “They didn’t put our people in top positions.” He turned to Brother-in-Law and said, “Look what happened to you. As soon as they left, you were promoted to vice president of your bank.”
Sonju knew this to be true. The Japanese took care of their own. They lived entirely separate lives from the Koreans. Sonju’s Japanese classmate, the one who came to see her before she and her family returned to Japan, had been always respectful toward Koreans and never called Koreans chosenjins, but still, she had never invited Sonju to her house. Then Sonju recalled her saying that she was born in Korea. Sonju now thought that, like her Japanese friend, she was an alien in her own country.
The guests were still talking. One said, “Japan left, only for our country to be divided into North and South. We didn’t ask the Soviet Union and America to do that. It’s our country.”
As their conversation veered to the matters of family relations and farming, Sonju thought it was right that the nation was grateful to America. Korea would reunite one day, but without Japan’s surrender, how long would Korea have been under Japanese rule, always being treated as an inferior people? If only Korea had embraced America’s more tolerant ways, she sighed quietly.
By early evening, the guests had left and family members had dispersed. The maids had cleared the tables. When Sonju finished stacking the pillows in a corner of the living room, a maid led two young children toward the anteroom. The little girl caught Sonju’s eyes and tugged at the boy’s arm.
Sonju walked down to the inner courtyard to meet them. From the kitchen, Second Sister rushed toward the children. “Bow to your new aunt.” After they bowed with their heads down almost to their waists, the boy held his mother’s hand, and twisting his body and hiding in the folds of her skirt, peeked at Sonju.
Sonju bent down to his height and asked, “What is your name?”
“Moon Chuljin.”
“How old are you?”
“Four.”
Sonju turned to the little girl. “What is your name?”
“Moon Jina.” She spread two little fingers. Sonju smiled with a nod. In the distance, a train whistled. As if to catch the sound, off to the back of the house the boy ran with his sister toddling after him.
Second Sister said, “Your husband will leave on Sunday to return to school. Things will slow down then.”
Shouldn’t he have told her about him leaving on Sunday? Beyond Second Sister’s shoulder, she saw a tall adolescent girl coming in through the gates. The girl had a lively face with sharp features. Her nose was straight and narrow, her intense eyes close together, her lips thin.
The girl came up to Sonju, bowed dipping her head. “How are you, Little Aunt?” She then turned to Second Sister. “I’m going back to Big House after I eat.”
So, this was Jinwon, First Sister’s daughter. A bold girl. Instead of asking for permission, this girl declared what she planned to do.
When Sonju’s husband came into their room at night, took off his outer clothing, and sat next to her on the yo, she said, “I learned today you are returning to school on Sunday. Would you tell me things that concern me so I don’t have to learn them from someone else?”
He turned off the light and lay on the yo. “You know I have to return to school. As I said, I’ll try to come home every weekend.”
What just happened? She opened her mouth to repeat her request, but he pulled her down next to him. Soon his stifling breath and eager body covered her. From a distance, she heard a series of mournful howls, some animal in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for it all to stop. When his sweaty body rolled off of her, she turned on her side. The howling faded into the distance. She listened to her husband’s soft snoring, then moved to the edge of the yo where the cotton surface was cool. She closed her eyes and saw Kungu, his lean figure approaching toward her, his face lighting up with a smile. She smiled back.
The third day of her marriage went the same way as the day before with guests coming and going. On the fourth day, after the last guest left, Second Sister, wiping her hands on an apron, came to Sonju’s room and said, “My children are in bed. Your husband is with Father-in-Law. We can bathe and talk in the bath house.”
Sonju almost declined. Baring all to a person she hardly knew made her uneasy. Not even her sister had seen her without clothes. But she needed someone to talk to. So, in the warm, humid bathhouse, they avoided looking at each other as they disrobed, and proceeded in silence to soap and rinse themselves outside the bathtub. Afterwards, each covered her breasts with her hand and arm, and slid into the hot water that rose up to their shoulders.
After they exchanged a few awkward smiles, Second Sister asked, “I like your hair. Is it naturally wavy?”
“Yes. Every new teacher accused me of violating school rules.” She was also accused of being vain to have it waved. “By the way,” Sonju said, “is First Sister joining us?”
“No. When I ask, she just shakes her head, so I don’t ask her anymore. She isn’t much of a talker. She doesn’t get jokes either. By the time I finish explaining, the joke isn’t funny anymore.”
Second Sister had more to say about First Sister. Their father-in-law sent First Sister to a girls’ boarding school a few months after her wedding to finish out her high school education. She came back after a year, the same year her husband graduated from Seoul National. She had Jinwon a year after she returned. His job required travelling on a government project, and from one of the inns he stayed, he contracted tuberculosis and later died.
“How long was she married?” Sonju asked.
“Four years. When I married, she had been widowed for six years.”
“What will happen to her, a widow at such a young age?”
Second Sister got out of the tub. Sonju followed, forgetting to shield her exposed body with her hands. “She will raise her daughter and live out her life here,” she said.
While they took turns scrubbing each other’s backs with a damp cloth, Sonju thought the same could happen to her if she were to become a widow. A reckoning. Something shifted inside her. It wasn’t fear that she felt but a shapeless resolve, a resettling.
Sonju returned to her room and found her husband sleeping on one side of the yo with one leg out of the blanket. She observed the man her fate was tied to. Perhaps, like his father, he would value education for women.
Upon waking in the morning, he said, “You slept very well last night. I think you’re adjusting nicely.”
“I took a bath with Second Sister. It was relaxing. I learned that First Sister went to a boarding school after getting married.” she smiled. “I wanted to go to university.”
“You’re fine without a university education,” he said with a dismissive tone. “You have more education than most women. And you studied at Ewha.”
“It’s not the matter of being fine or not. That’s what I wanted.”
“You sound like Second Sister. She too says she had wanted to go to a university.” He looked at her, and with a smirk, said, “You’re married now.”
She turned away from him to take a few deep breaths. As soon as he left the room, Sonju walked out to the veranda holding the blanket. She thrashed it, shook it hard, and repeated until her arms hurt and her anger dissipated somewhat. After putting away the yo and the blanket, she took out her thinking-stone from one of her chests. She rubbed the smooth surface, and rolling it, thought about Kungu.
A few minutes later, Second Sister came to her room smiling and asked if she had any clothes for the maids to wash. Sonju handed over some clothes and said, “You and I have something in common. My husband told me you wanted to go to university. Do you still think about it?”
Second Sister dropped her head. The silence that followed was so long that Sonju regretted asking. Second Sister slowly lifted her face, then looked at Sonju with glazed eyes. “It doesn’t do any good to think about it. I had won a scholarship to study embroidery designs in Japan. I wanted to create art.” A sad smile appeared on her face before she said, “I haven’t embroidered since marriage. I always get interrupted.”
Sonju leaned forward. “I’ll be helping you around the house. Maybe one day we can embroider together. I’m not that good. You can teach me.”
A maid announced at the door that the guests had arrived. They rose and held hands, looked into each other’s eyes, then with reluctance, let their hands fall. Second Sister hurried to the kitchen and Sonju to the living room to look like a proper bride to the guests.
When there was a break between the guests, Sonju and her husband retreated to their room. During one of those breaks, he said, “You carry yourself well. I can tell the guests are impressed by you. They should be, considering the family you come from.” And he made sure to bring up her family in every conversation, she noticed. She gave him a thin smile. Would she ever see something in him that she could like? She pondered for a moment and thought perhaps she wasn’t being fair to him. She didn’t know him well yet.
That night on the yo, her husband grabbed her hand. “Come sit,” he said. “I won’t see you for a week.”
The minute she sat, he pulled her closer to him and rubbed her thighs over her clothing. She gazed at him. Not a bad face. A likable face actually. He was her husband. In time, they would understand each other better, and she might feel differently then. She must try to make her marriage the best it could be for both of them. With that in mind, she asked, “Will I be an equal partner in our marriage?”
His head jerked. Then with a chuckle, he asked, “Is that what girls from Ewha think?”
She hid her annoyance and disappointment at having to explain her point and said, “I believe a woman having an equal voice is good for a marriage.”
“You’re my wife. That’s who you are.”
She sat up straight, and with new alertness, said, “And you’re my husband. Without being equal, I will always be less. No one likes to be less.”
Instead of responding, he tried to lay her back on the yo. She shook his hand off, got up and walked out to the veranda to cool off. Ever since she was a child, her ambition was to one day do something for others that would elevate their lives in a meaningful, enduring way. She believed she could and knew the importance of fighting for who she was. Over the past four days, however, she felt herself being carelessly taken down by her husband. She could already tell this marriage would take a lot of effort.
The Hill
All was quiet on the veranda after her husband left for Seoul the following evening. In the grey remnants of sunlight, Sonju paced the length of the veranda back and forth. For the past six days, she had been caged in his house with his people in a place where she knew no one. Before the wedding, marriage was just a vague idea. She now realized that she would have to be alert so as not to be swallowed up by him and his people.
The next morning, not knowing what to do with herself, she put on one of the Western dresses she brought with her and went to the kitchen to get lost in busy, mundane chores. She stood by the open door of the kitchen and asked Second Sister to allow her to help in the kitchen.
Instead of looking at her, Second Sister took a quick glance at Sonju’s dress and continued to prepare a breakfast. After she placed a spoon and a pair of chopsticks on a tray, she turned to Sonju and smiled. “I know what you can do. You can serve breakfast to Father-in-Law. He’ll like that.” She shot a quick glance again at Sonju’s dress that came down below midcalf. Sonju must admit that every village woman she saw had on a traditional long skirt and long-sleeved top. In the past, she had worn a traditional dress only for special occasions to see the family elders. She knew it would be a challenge for her to keep the long skirt off her feet during everyday activities.
The next day upon entering the kitchen, Sonju noticed Second Sister wearing a Western dress over woolen stockings. She must have had the dress all along but hadn’t dared to wear it. Sonju was amused and took it as a possibility that she could bring some changes in that household. To test that hunch, she asked with a casual air, “I would like to see the village. Is tomorrow a good day?”
Second Sister added a bowl of rice and warmed liquor on the tray. “Let’s wait until Mother-in-Law tells us.”
Sonju hid a smile knowing that Mother-in-Law would hear about her wanting to be out and know that her new daughter-in-law, only six days married, was asserting herself. That, at least, was something.
Other than serving Father-in-Law, Sonju had nothing to do except greeting a visitor or two or having a quick lunch with Second Sister in her room. During one of those lunches, she learned that of the three maids, one took care of the children at all times and the other two washed vegetables and fruit and dishes in addition to washing clothes and keeping the entire house clean. They had four servants who lived in the rooms facing the outer courtyard. Three of them worked in the fields along with sharecroppers. The fourth, the old servant, stayed around the house to run errands for the family and to take care of the upkeep of the house. There was a small kitchen at the end of the servants’ quarters where the maids cooked for themselves and for the servants. This arrangement wasn’t all that different from what Sonju was used to. Her family had only two servants and two maids at the house because the field work was done outside of Seoul.
Second Sister said, “First Sister and I do most of the cooking and mending clothes.”
“I am not accustomed to doing either but I will learn,” Sonju said, wondering what they did other than work. If she had known that she couldn’t get books here, she would have brought some with her.
Finally, on the tenth day of her marriage, Second Sister said that Mother-in-Law gave permission for Sonju to visit the clan elders that morning. “We have to dress in traditional clothes when we go out,” Second Sister said, “until the villagers get used to seeing us in Western clothes at home.”
After breakfast, accompanied by Second Sister, Sonju stepped out of the house for the first time. In the middle of the outer courtyard, she paused to breathe in the air that carried a scent of cool earth that was pleasing to her. At the edge of the courtyard, a red dirt road snaked along a knoll, on top of which stood the skeletons of tall trees, and above those stretched an endless sky. She had believed her future would be wide open like that. Her eyes became blurry, but she quickly tilted her head back. “Look at that sky. So immense. I think I could become a poet.” She kept blinking. When her eyes dried, she straightened her head.
“I don’t see poetry in this sky, but I’m glad you do.” There was a smile in Second Sister’s voice.
They walked down the steep slope to the right and followed a long mud brick fence. Second Sister said, “First, we’ll visit Big House Master, the head of the clan. He sat next to Father-in-Law at your wedding.” She went on to explain that their father-in-law’s grandfather had three sons. Big House Master comes from the first son, their father-in-law from the second, hence Second House Master, and Little House Master from the third. About thirty years before, Big House Master left the farmland under their father-in-law’s care and moved to Seoul to oversee the clan boys’ education. Three years ago, after Sonju’s husband passed the entrance examination to Seoul National, Big House Master returned to Maari.
After making a left turn again, they came to imposing double gates. Once inside the gates, they followed a stone path winding through a garden. The entire compound was terraced upwards with a house and a garden on each level. They took wide stone steps to the upper level.
A maid saw them walk up, and after a bow, hurried to the main house and announced, “Ladies from the Second House are here.”
Big House Lady came out to the anteroom, greeted them with a wide grin, and promptly led them down to the main level to the men’s quarters where Big House Master was sitting in front of a low table, the folds on his face revealing gentle living and a good temperament. Behind him hung a large scroll of poems in thick brush strokes. Every item in that sparse room showed understated grace—nothing fussy, shiny, or competing. The visit ended with him welcoming her to the clan.
