8,273 words.

Back in the 60s Busan was all rice fields and factories. Factories making shit for America. Shoes, brooms, cups, and wigs, you name it, they made it. They’d slap the "Made in Korea" sticker on it, put it on a ship, and send it over there. Now they make all of that bullshit in China. Most people in this country are too rich to do that kind of work. Back then a lot of the metal shops were started to help supply the factories. They’ve been there almost as long.
Man-su had heard this conversation countless times. There wasn’t much to discuss when it came to Man-su and he liked it that way. Still, during holidays or family outings, everyone had to take his turn on the chopping block. Even Man-su.
He focused on his partially empty shot glass and was turning it in time with the second hand of his watch. A couple times he tried to turn the glass faster. Hoping it just might make time go faster. The history of Busan’s metal shops continued around him. Eventually the conversation would turn from Man-su’s job, to Man-su’s marriage, or lack thereof. He knew that. A couple of jokes would be tossed around, some hard advice, and then he could disappear until the next holiday.
“Hey. Man-su. How old are you now?”
It was his father’s third older brother. He had a glazed, but serious look in his eye and he teetered back and forth as he waited for an answer. Man-su glanced at his watch. It was 2:50 p.m. He pretended to be deep in thought until someone answered for him.
“Thirty Four.”
“Why don’t you get married?”
And there it was. As uncomfortable as Man-su was at least now the crescendo was at hand. In a matter of minutes it would be over. Man-su would return to his undistinguished position as the 3rd boy of four in the 7th of nine children. Someone nudged him and offered the bottle of soju. Man-su held out his cup with two hands.
The stilted silence turned to the declining birth rate in Korea. It veered toward young people getting married later in life and Man-su braced for what he thought would be one last hurdle. But then, in a stroke of pure luck, one of the women came blasting into the room with several containers of fresh raw fish. Drunken chopsticks descended as quickly as the containers were set down and all conversation stopped.
The corners of his mouth started to go up. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to raise his glass in the air and toast his good fortune. He drank the soju in a single shot. He eagerly picked up a pair of chopsticks, grabbed two large chunks of fish, dunked them in red pepper sauce, and stuffed them into his mouth and chewed them for a long time. He wouldn’t have to use his mouth for anything else that day.
People joked that Man-su was shy. He disagreed. In his mind he was a private person in a culture that did not value privacy. His mother for one didn’t understand this, but at least she was aware of it. Other people flatly disliked him. They thought he was unfriendly and selfish.
When Man-su was a young boy and his family was just beginning to not be poor, there were nine of them living in a three bedroom apartment. When Man-su’s grandmother was still alive that made 10. Ten people living under one roof. Man-su would wander from room to room, counting the number of people in each room and sleeping where the fewest people lay. Even then he'd sleep in the corner, as far away from the others as possible.
But often times he’d wake up in the room with the most people. He used to think ghosts were scooping him up and moving him from room to room, maybe punishing him for trying to be alone. His mother was very superstitious and deeply feared ghosts. His family always ate red bean soup on the appropriate days to protect them from spirits, and if Man-su was caught standing under a doorway his mother would push him away as if she were saving him from fire. As the story goes, spirits caught between the two worlds seek refuge in doorways.
It wasn’t until years later he realized it was his mother, not ghosts that were shuffling him around during the night. She’d stick him in the most crowded part of the room that had the most people. Trying to break him of his lonely habit. He’d wake up with legs or arms on top of him. Five or six people snoring loudly.
His Mom was trying to do what she thought was best for him. But Man-su couldn’t help it. How could he possibly survive during his mandatory military service? He’d have to sleep with 100 people in a room. Less than 12 inches separating him from his bunkmates. It just wasn’t healthy, she thought.
Lucky for Man-su, by the time he had to go to the military his family had become lightning rich. His father paid off the right people and Man-su got two years of his life back. The idea of Man-su existing in the military was ridiculous. Even though most thought he desperately needed the discipline. People would have labeled him eccentric had such a concept existed in the Korean language. People thought he was strange and left it at that.
Being one of nine children people tended to not focus on him. He was a male, which drew attention in itself, but thankfully he wasn’t the oldest. He wasn't the cutest or ugliest. He was of average height, weight, and intelligence. He was just Man-su. He didn’t want to go to college and he didn’t want to work for his father. He liked books, not TV. He got a job making pipes at a shop in the metal district of Busan. He rode the bus for an hour each way to work. End of story.
Man-su‘s parents were fond of saying that they had decided, that as long as the business was growing, they'd keep having children. And they did. When they finally stopped having children, their children started having children. As long as there was enough money to keep everyone fed, why stop? That was the thinking.
Man-su’s father owned a company that cleaned the insides of shipping containers. He’d quit high school and moved from tiny Yangsan to Busan. He got a job loading and unloading ships. Busan was just starting to emerge as one of the bigger shipping ports in Asia. At the time he wasn’t all that sure what he should do in life, but he had a haunch that he ought to make shipping part of it. He learned the ropes, and at 22 years of age, started his own one-man cleaning company. He’d walk from pier to pier offering his services, carrying his supplies in a little plastic basket. He worked hard and charged a low price. In a stroke of luck, he started getting regular work from one of the American companies. He didn’t speak a word of English beyond “hello,” but they liked him. They thought he was cute. He was short and non-threatening. He always bowed deeply when he came to clean. They started using his services exclusively. The business started to grow and he was soon working seven days a week, sometimes 20 hours in a day.
It was at that time he figured he’d better get a wife. To keep things organized on the home front. He went down to a marriage agency in Busan with his father. With the aid of some traditional Buddhist numerology and a big blue book full of photographs, Man-su’s grandfather and a fortune teller picked the girl who would be Man-su’s mother. A week later they’d met each other’s families and a week after that they had the ceremony. They moved into a small one-room apartment within walking distance to the piers.
Soon the American company recommended his service to another American company who in turn recommended him to another. Man-su’s father had to hire two, six, and then 10 people to work for him. Shipping to and from Busan expanded as the Korean economy surged during the 1970s. The goods being shipped in and out of Korea changed from light industry and consumer products, to heavy industry and chemicals. The regulations for shipping in Korea became strict. People needed more sophisticated cleanings. Business exploded.
People teased Man-su‘s father that he was living the American Dream. He was. He had a big family and moved back to Yangsan, the countryside city where he grew up. He drove to work in a Cadillac. He ate steak whenever he wanted. He took up golf. He and Man-su's mother even became Christian at the urging of one the American clients.
Man-su’s father always tried to highlight the fact that his marriage had been a key factor in his success. When this didn’t take hold he tried more forceful measures. Threatening to kick Man-su out of the house. Badgering him, even calling him names. But in the end he gave up. Conversely, his mother never pushed him. She had learned from when Man-su was younger that, like it or not, he had his own mind.
Man-su's father was always very generous to his children. Whatever dream they wanted to pursue in life, he would help in any way he could. Some of Man-su's brothers and sisters worked for their father’s company. He gave money to Man-su's third sister to open her own duck restaurant in Seoul. Within five years she had opened 10 more. Man-su's fourth sister started her own fan company, making them mostly by hand in her apartment. Two years later she opened a factory in Vietnam and was soon producing fans, scarves, rain boots, and pocketbooks.
No one really knew or understood why Man-su had such low ambition. Some speculated that he never had to want for money. By the time he was a teenager, his family had plenty, so he never felt a need to earn any. But that didn’t explain his two younger siblings, who like all their other brothers and sisters, were successful. Together they had started a company developing real estate.
He had never even moved out from the family home. All the other siblings had gone away to University. They got jobs, got married. One of Man-su’s sisters lived at home until she got married at 29. People had raised their eyebrows at that. Twenty-nine was almost too old. Man-su fell off the radar. His brothers and sisters basically gave up the idea and let him save face. He lived in the same bedroom in his parent’s house as when they moved to Yangsan. His mother still made his breakfast in the morning, and at night he still lay on the floor heater curled up with a book. Just like he did when he was 12.
When he was in his late 20s his parents made one last effort to get Man-su to move out of the house. By then he was working in the metal shop and his parents urged him to buy an apartment closer to work. For the sake of convenience. Man-su always acted like it was a good idea. A couple times during his lunchtime at the metal shop he even looked at apartments. But over time the idea died away, and so did his parents urgings. Once he turned 30, they totally stopped bringing up the idea. The situation was beyond discussion. He was there, he was staying put, and that was it.
Sometimes Man-su’s father blamed his mother for spoiling her son. He told her to let Man-su make his own breakfast. She did. But Man-su simply stopped eating in the morning, and his mother couldn’t bear that. Thus ended project self-sufficiency.
But then some unexpected news spawned the first genuine crisis in Man-su’s life. Following the example of some friends in their church, Man-su's parents decided to open a Christian elementary school in Jianhe, a poor, remote town in western China. The move would not be permanent, but getting the school off the ground would take several years. They would leave in three months time, and would probably be gone for three, four, or maybe five years.
Man-su’s father made the announcement at a family get together at a boiled pork restaurant. Everyone was shocked, but they were supportive in the way that he had always been with them. He told the family he expected people to visit then in China, and that they would return to Korea once or twice a year during holidays or anytime a new grandchild was born.
After the initial surprise of the announcement died down there was some chatter amongst the brothers and sisters. People wondered how the situation would affect their lives. Man-su could forsee what was coming. He sat there, rolling boiled pork into bean paste filled lettuce leaves and stuffing them in his mouth again and again, as if to appear muzzled.
But soon all the pork was gone and all that was left were concerned faces and several bottles of liquor. His father, brothers, and brother-in-laws all began to slowly make their way down to Man-su’s side of the table. He saw them coming, and he knew the years of evasion tactics, indifference, and fear, was about to rain down on him at once. As each of his brothers sidled up to him with grave looks on their faces, the light around him began to disappear. He could feel their hot breaths, already reeking of alcohol, closing in. Man-su cast a fleeting glance in the direction of his mother, who was minding the children along with his sister and sister-in-laws, far on the other side of the room.
“You need a wife.”
“You need to get a wife now.”
“Why don’t you get a better job Man-su, this is serious.”
“Drink this.”
“Man-su, you have been living with our mother’s care for 34 years. You can’t take care of yourself.”
“Our parents are leaving. You need to be a man.”
“Cheers!””Have you ever had sex with a woman Man-su?”
“What do you do with the money you get from your job?”
“You need to get married.”
“Why don’t you come work for the family company? I can put you in a nice position where you don’t have to work.”
“Drink this.”
“I can introduce you to a very nice girl next week. She’s a hairdresser. So beautiful.”
“Man-su, what will you eat when Mom and Dad are gone? Will you stay in their house?”
The discussion continued in and around Man-su for an hour. Man-su’s past, present and future were discussed in detail. Everyone, except Man-su, was talking. He hated people telling him what to do. But the consensus was too strong. It was clear he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the restaurant until he was in full agreement, even if that meant pretending to agree.
Man-su started nodding his head and pretended to be serious. He agreed he needed to get married. He agreed to meet women his brothers knew of. He said they sounded wonderful. He agreed he couldn’t take care of himself. That he’d better get the help of a wife. The circle began to loosen. Fresh air returned to Man-su’s nose and one by one the families retreated to their cars, honked goodbye and headed home.
In the car with his parents Man-su wasn’t completely certain of his own feelings. Did he truly want a wife? No. However, the more he thought about it, the less he knew why. He liked women, but his sexual experience had been limited to a few wild nights with co-workers at the metal shop. When someone had offered to buy sex for the group at a local Karaoke club or tea house.
He’d been in love twice. Once with a girl at a neighboring girl’s high school, and once with a girl who used to walk by the metal shop on her way to an office job. He’d never even tried to explain his feelings to either woman. They were, like many things in his life, secrets he kept to himself. He enjoyed being the invisible man. He merely loved them at a distance.
But he did recognize his situation was getting somewhat serious. His parents were leaving. For better or for worse he was dependent on his parents care. What would happen now that they were leaving? Would he learn to wake up and make his own seaweed soup and rice in the morning? Would he live in the big house in Yangsan by himself? Would he learn to drive a car? Plant his own garden?
In the midst of his contemplation his mother turned around. It wasn’t until after she’d been talking for a minute that Man-su realized she was crying. She looked at Man-su and he suddenly found himself disarmed. Both he and his mother had aged through the years, but their relationship had changed very little. She was still the mother, he was still the son. He had spent more time with her than anyone in the world. It was the same for her. While she’d known her husband longer, up until recently he’d worked at least 12 hours a day for more than 30 years. Man-su was the man she knew best, and Man-su knew his mother best. Maybe they’d relied on each other too much. Perhaps she treated him too munch like a baby. Regardless, they loved one another deeply. So when she turned to him with tears in his eyes, and implored Man-su to take a wife, he knew he was defenseless before she uttered a word. He could refuse many things from many people. But he could not deny his crying mother. At last, he would take a wife.
Man-su woke up the next day and stared at the ceiling. He felt differently. Soon, he would no longer wake alone. That was his first thought. He looked to his right. He tried to imagine a woman sleeping on the floor next to him.
He walked into the front room. His mother called to him and upon hearing his reply started getting his breakfast ready. Again, Man-su looked around him, trying to imagine a woman next to him. He looked at his mother in the kitchen, walking back and forth, boiling something on the stove. Cutting things into small pieces. Opening and closing the refrigerator. He tried to visualize a different woman in her place. How could he eat food prepared by another woman?
After breakfast Man-su lay on the sofa reading. Man-su loved reading all kinds of novels for his own pleasure, sometimes lying around the whole day if he was especially involved in the book. Could his wife accept this? He looked to his side again, trying to picture his new wife next to him. It was difficult.
After breakfast he took a walk. Man-su cherished Yangsan. It was so quiet and clean compared to Busan. But he’d heard most women don’t like to live in the countryside. They want to live in the city, where they can shop and go to restaurants. But who wouldn’t love this? There must be women who want to live where the air is clean. Where the only noise is the wind rolling over the hills. He walked down a small dirt road about a mile from his family’s home. Several people were outside, tending to their gardens. He stopped and looked at the freeway to Busan far in the distance. He couldn’t even hear the traffic.
There was something in beauty of the countryside that enabled Man-su to begin to fully visualize having a wife. He decided then, that he and his new wife should stay in his parent’s house in Yangsan. That was his one qualification. He turned around and walked back to the house.
As he took a deep breath Man-su felt something he had rarely felt in life; productive. He had sometimes been afraid of making big decisions in life, but it wasn’t so difficult, he nodded. He smiled to himself, swung his arms forward and clapped his hands together.
Man-su felt lighter. He was able to picture his new wife in his parent’s home. He could see her in the kitchen preparing his lunch. He could see her watching TV in the afternoon while he sat and read on the sofa. That night, he could see her next to him while he played cards with his father that evening.
The next day he called his brother to confirm his interest in meeting the hairdresser. As it turned out it was his brother’s hairdresser and he was going to see her that Friday. He would arrange a meeting for that evening. The three of them could have dinner at a casual fried rice restaurant. If things went well, he would make an excuse to leave the two of them alone.
Man-su got a little nervous when his brother said the part about leaving them alone. But he supposed that would have to happen eventually. After work that Friday Man-su headed to a public bath and washed himself completely. He’d asked his mother earlier that day what he should wear. She’d told him he’d better wear his best suit if he was meeting his future bride and Man-su could see the logic in that. Man-su brought his best suit to work that day, hanging it up far in the back of the office where it wouldn’t get dirty.
That night when his brother saw Man-su wearing his suit he shook his head in disbelief.
“Why did you wear that?”
“Mom, said I should dress up to make a good impression.”
His brother looked at him in disbelief.
“Mom was part of an arranged marriage. What do you think she knows about dating? We’re going to a fried rice restaurant. Not the opera.”
Man-su said nothing.
“You’re know, our family is rich. If you show up, keep your mouth shut, and don’t make an idiot of yourself this girl will marry you. She’s beautiful, but she’s almost 30 and her family gives her a lot of pressure to get married these days.”
Man-su stared at the ground.
“But this….you look like you expect to get married today! This isn’t 1975!”
Indeed, the hairdresser thought Man-su wanted to get married that day. And Man-su, embarrassed to be wearing an expensive suit in a fried rice restaurant, said very little. Most of the conversation was between Man-su’s brother and the girl. About hair. To make matters worse Man-su’s hair was very short.
After an hour the woman excused herself, saying she had an appointment with a group of friends. She bowed to Man-su and his brother, and quickly walked out the door. Man-su’s first meeting had come to an abrupt end. Man-su’s brother stared at him and shook his head in disbelief.
The following Friday one of Man-su’s sister-in-laws arranged for Man-su to meet a woman she worked with at a bank. She explained to Man-su that the woman was 31, and her family was pressuring her to get married very soon. The plan was for the three of them to meet at a Starbucks not far from where Man-su worked. She told Man-su to not wear a suit.
The girl was very pretty, Man-su thought. She also seemed quite pure and conservative, which he liked. The three of them had a pleasant conversation, which Man-su’s sister-in-law directed very well. She made sure to highlight the fact that while Man-su worked at a metal shop, that his father had started a very successful company. That the family was quite rich.
With the meeting progressing successfully Man-su’s sister-in-law took leave after an hour. Man-su selected a squid restaurant and made sure to open the door for her. Being alone with a woman like this was a first for Man-su. He felt a little nervous. But he told himself to relax. That the woman was looking to meet a husband, just as he was looking to meet a wife. To let things happen naturally.
At dinner they talked about their ideal type of mate, and Man-su pleasantly discovered that they each seemed to fit what the other was looking for. Almost perfectly. The girl liked to cook, which Man-su especially liked, and she preferred the countryside to the city. Busan was too busy she told him. She liked quiet places with fresh air. Man-su wanted to cry out for joy. He started to feel genuine affection for the woman. His leg began to bounce up and down in excitement.
The time flew by so fast Man-su could hardly believe it was nearly midnight. When the girl told him she still had to go home by midnight or her father would be angry Man-su grinned. He was certain he’d found the proper girl to be his wife.
Outside the restaurant he led the girl to a street where she could get a taxi. He handed her more than enough money for her fare. He looked at her and with a small smile. She was shy, and looked away, but likewise tried to return the smile. Man-su said, “I’d like to find some time for our families to meet.”
The girl nervously ticked her head to the side and grunted, indicated she hadn’t heard what Man-su had said.
“I want our families to meet and I want to be married by the end of the month. I’m sure my parents will like you. I want you to be my wife. We can live in my parent’s house in Yangsan and you can quit your job at the bank immediately.”
The girl nodded slowly, not in agreement, but in confirmation that Man-su had said what she thought he had said. Two girls on mopeds sped by and honked.
“I think your father will be quite pleased with our decision. My family is very financially secure. Your father has worked hard his entire life and he will not have to work hard anymore.”
The girl looked at her watch and urgently said “Oh! I’m going to be late!”
Man-su whirled around and started waving for a taxi. He told himself to calm down. He was acting like a little boy. He knew he was. Stop it. He started waving for a taxi in a much more dashing way. He spotted one down the street in the distance. He waved his hand calmly and strongly. Like a leader would. That’s what he needed to concentrate on. Being a leader.
But it was too late. When he turned around the girl was gone. He looked around, but she had disappeared. He waved the taxi away, stunned.
Man-su tried to call her several times during the next day. Ten times in fact. But there was no answer and she didn’t call him back. He stared at his phone, exhaled and set it on the kitchen table. His mother was making fresh noodles. His father was out playing golf.
“Man-su,” his mother said, “Can I make a suggestion?”
He looked at her. She had flour all over her apron. What a woman, he thought. If he could only find someone like his mother. He knew of no other mother that made fresh noodles for her family. Here she was. Cutting and twisting all morning. Just so he and his father could eat soup that night.
She walked over to where Man-su was sitting. She told him that she had been talking to one of the neighbors, and that her son, who had some trouble finding an appropriate wife, had gone to an agency that connects Vietnamese and Chinese women with Korean men. That he had married a Vietnamese woman earlier that year. And they were perfectly happy.
She looked at Man-su and tears started to come to her eyes. She was worried about him, she told him. It was really important to her that he be taken care of while she was gone. She explained that while Man-su’s father had become very rich, but that they were still very conservative. That there aren’t many conservative women left in Korea because the country has become wealthy and more individualistic. But Vietnamese and Chinese women are still very conservative, more like Koreans used to be, so they can be good matches for Korean men. The women want to come to Korea because the living conditions are better. That they work hard for their husbands.
Man-su had heard of such arrangements. There were signs all over Busan and he’d heard that a lot of men who worked in the metal shops took Vietnamese brides. There was even an agency close to where he worked that provided such a service. He had never imagined himself getting one. But then, he’d never imagined getting a wife either.
Still, the idea of meeting a woman from a different country was strange to Man-su. He’d never even been outside of Korea, except when his family went to Jeju Island, and that was still part of Korea. For Man-su even that had seemed radically different from Busan and Yangsan.
He’d seen foreign people in movies. He’d seen the occasional TV profile of a foreigner in Korea. But they seemed so different from Koreans. He wondered if they spoke Korean in Vietnam. If not, how could he communicate with her?
His mother told him that she had never been out of the country either. That she could never have imagined doing something like opening a school in China. But because of globalization the world was much smaller. And because of business, people from other from different cultures are finding themselves working together.
“Marriage is like a business in many ways,” she told Man-su, her voice cracking.
He couldn’t help but agree. Yet again, an emotional plea by his mother had changed his mind. He stood up an embraced her in the kitchen. They stayed there for some time. Man-su ran his fingers along his mothers back. He wished he could never let go. Even at 34 he felt a comfort in his mother’s arms that he didn’t feel anywhere else.
“Mom, don’t go to China,” he said softly. But his mother didn’t hear him. She broke their embrace and ran over to a pot on the stove filled with rice cake soup. Man-su looked at her, beginning to repeat what he had said, but he didn’t say it. He couldn’t. He needed to be his own person now. Whatever he had been afraid of his entire life, it was time to stop. He needed to be a man. A married man. Instead he went into his bedroom and turned on the computer.
As he sat down he felt a tinge of nervousness in his stomach. It was the same feeling he had when he went to meet the girls his brother and sister in law had arranged for him to meet. He did a search on “Vietnam Bride” and several sites appeared. He looked at the first.
Four pictures appeared each with age groupings below them. He stared at the images. They looked very similar to Korean women although their skin was dark, like women from the countryside. Man-su liked that, but their names were beyond strange. Bao, Bach, Anh, Bich….he wondered if he could ever say such weird names. But the longer he looked at the photos, the more beautiful they became. And, they were very young, which he liked. None of the women were over 27.
“Thank you for visiting Vietnam Bride,” the page said. “Xin Chao! That means hello, or welcome in Vietnamese. Vietnam is home to some of the most beautiful women, beaches, and countryside in the world.”
Man-su tried to say “Xin Chao.” He said it three times and giggled at the sounds that came out of his mouth. Seems like a silly language, he thought. He was still curious if any of the women could speak Korean. So he kept reading.
“A Vietnamese woman makes an ideal wife for any man looking for family values and a strong, long lasting relationship.”
Man-su had never suspected that anyone but Koreans would ever want to come to Korea. He had always been told that Korean culture was unique, and impenetrable to those from outside it.
But here he was, looking at a Web site full of women who were begging to come to Korea. He read the profiles in amazement. “I want to live with you forever in Korea,” one said. Another said she’d already been learning to speak Korean at a local Korean language school and had learned much about Korea from the television dramas that regularly aired on Vietnamese television.
A Korean language school? How preposterous. He proudly laughed out loud and tried to picture a Korean language school in the middle of a hot jungle. He stared as the wall and tried to imagine such a thing.
Man-su left the computer and took a walk. He shook his head and laughed. The world had opened and he felt a pride he’d never experienced. It was a dual pride. A love of both himself and his country, but tied into one new feeling. During his life he could see his family’s situation changing. Even though he had little idea of how much money his father made, his family always seemed to be getting more, to the point where the progression was normal. They’d upgrade the television every year or two, buy new cars, they added on to the house three or four times, and upgraded from a Karaoke machine for the back patio to an actual Karaoke room. The momentum never stopped.
As a child Man-su thought his entire country was growing in the same way. He knew that, of course, there were still poor people. He learned that most of the people that worked at the metal shop were poor. But now Man-su could see that even the poor in his country were very rich when compared to another country’s people. Imagine, he thought, the other side of that. Women from Korea going to other countries to become other men’s wives. He knew Korea had been poor at one time. Had it happened? He thought about for a second, listening to the rhythmic sounds of his feet on the gravel street.
“Impossible,” he muttered to himself and laughed out loud again.
Now that he could see how easy getting a wife from another country could be, Man-su started to wonder about women from other countries. Could he get a wife from Japan? Probably not, Japan was the richest country in the world. Russia? Surely there were women from Russia trying to come to Korea. He’d seen many Russians in Busan. He’d heard on the news of Russian mafia operating in Busan and Russian prostitutes were everywhere. Surely one of them would have chosen to marry him rather than become a whore. No matter how bad a husband he might be, anything was better than being a whore, wasn’t it?
He stopped mid-step. He looked around him. Some of the high mountains still had snow on them, even though Spring was at hand. A peculiar feeling started to make its way through his body. An excitement, a signal that he was on the cusp of something big. Fantastic. He’d never been so excited about women before. All of these women in the world just dying for the chance to be my wife in Korea. He spun around on his heel, his back straight like a solider. He started to march back to his home. He spun through the front gate and leapt up with steps to the front door. He felt much less nervous then. It wasn’t like before, when he’d met the two women his family had introduced. He felt comfortable. Confidence.
He typed in “Russian Bride” and, as he expected, found several sites with pages of beautiful women. They were not only from Russia, but places he’d never heard of; Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Strangely, some of those women looked quite Asian. One site told about large Korean populations living in Central Asia that had been displaced before and during the Korean War. Man-su had heard of that. Most Koreans called them “lost swans” and pitied them greatly.
He wondered if he could find a bride with Korean blood from another country. What a strange idea, he thought. But possibly a good one. He paused as he looked at the profiles of several women from Kazakhstan.
But then he thought marrying a woman with Korean blood who wasn’t really Korean could make an even stranger wife than a person with no Korean blood. His expectation would always be that they were Korean, but they would never meet that. It might be better to find someone completely different from him.
Man-su went back to his original search page. There were several other sites offering Vietnamese women. He continued to scan down the page.
“American Brides.”
After having read so many other strange country names like Kyrgyzstan and Bangladesh it took Man-su a moment to recall America. In reality he knew very little about America. But he’d heard much about it. America was the standard, for starters. Everything he did know about America was related to wealth. Big cars, big people, big money. Brides from America didn’t fit with the pattern of the other websites. He clicked on the link. Surely, these weren’t brides from America in the same way as he’d been looking from brides from Russia and Vietnam.
“American Bridal Agency – Beautiful American Women, Girls and Ladies looking for Love, Romance and Marriage at Date American Brides.”
Without much hesitation Man-su clicked “Browse.”
“Browse By State: Mississippi, Alabama, Texas, Louisiana, New Mexico, West Virginia.”
“Browse By Age: 18-25, 25-35, 35-45, 45+”
Man-su had only heard of Texas. He assumed the others were parts of America, but he clicked on “Mississippi,” because the name sounded a little funny, a bit exotic.
Several pictures were displayed on the screen, just as on the Vietnamese bride site. The names were “Shanice, Aaliyah and Imani.” Man-su was stunned by the beauty of the women facing him. He had no idea how beautiful American women could be. He clicked “show all profiles.” He’d always seen American women on TV and in advertising, but these women didn’t look like that at all. These women were dark skinned, just like Man-su liked. They looked much more like Koreans than Man-su expected. The only American women Man-su had ever seen had blonde hair and usually blue eyes. The women’s heads and facial features were mostly large, like many Koreans. Man-su let out a gasp and shook his head. He had no idea there were American Brides available to Koreans. America was a rich and powerful country. Then again, it was large like China. China had very rich people and very poor people, he knew. He supposed America did too.
Man-su’s father had always thought highly of Americans, even as many Koreans came to dislike them in recent times. If it weren’t for American shipping companies his own company never would have grown in the way it did. During the currency crash following the IMF crisis of 1997, Man-su’s father made money while his peers were all losing everything. Most of his money was in American dollars.
As he looked over the profiles we wondered how his family would accept an American as his wife. It was one thing to look at women from other counties on the Internet. It was another to ask his family to embrace her as one of them. There wasn’t a single drop of non-Korean blood in his family. Koreans typically looked down on such situations, though things had changed slightly in recent years. His father’s general like of Americans would probably work in his favor.
He also wondered if these women could speak Korean. Unlike the women on the Vietnamese websites, these women said nothing about wanting to come to Korea or watching Korean dramas. Man-su knew a little English, but unlike many of his family and friends, he didn’t have big plans to earn a lot of money. There was no need to learn English at the metal shops. So it was never that important for him. He knew some simple phrases like “hello” and “goodbye,” but that was it.
Questions continued to surface in his mind until he came upon the profile of Nerissa, a 23-year-old from Biloxi, Mississippi. She was quite simply the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She’s big, was his first thought, but this didn’t deter him. In fact, he realized, it made her even more beautiful. Man-su guessed she loved to eat, like him. She had a wide nose with big nostrils and the largest mouth he’d ever seen. His first inclination was to lean forward and kiss the screen. Juxtaposed with her skin her teeth were so radiantly white they nearly jumped out at him. Her smile seemed so genuine. It too pulled him toward the screen. She was wearing a tight blue shirt with a rainbow that said “Ghetto Queen” below it. Man-su had no idea what that meant, but he knew that under that shirt was what looked like the most perfect pair of breasts he had ever imagined. He didn’t think it consciously, but there was a feeling in his heart that he could easily spend the rest of his life with such a woman. He nodded his head at the screen and started to rub his hand up and down his arm. He felt fuzzy and he had to remember to breathe. He could hear his mother in the kitchen. She was probably starting to prepare dinner. Man-su called to her.
“Mother!” he said. “Mother!” he said, slowly rising from his seat. “Come here, quickly! I’ve found a wife!”
At first Man-su’s parents were unenthusiastic about his choice. Marrying a non-Korean was difficult idea for them to embrace, but marrying a non-Asian seemed especially ill advised. But when Man-su showed them the photo on the Internet, excitedly detailing specific things about her face and bio, neither could question his enthusiasm. It was as if he had already fallen in love with the woman. When he talked about her his words became quick, his voice strong and resolute.
“Look, she likes taking walks!”
“Father, she like action movies…like you do!”
“Mother, she wants to learn how to cook!”
“Aren’t her eyes beautiful? They’re deep and dark like an Asian person!”
“It says she likes hot weather. It gets very hot here during the summer!”
What could they do? Man-su was more animated than they’d ever seen him. He’d stand up, pace around the room pleading his case, then quickly return to his seat at the computer and stare at the photo on the screen.
In the end they decided it was more important for Man-su to be married than it was for him to be married according to their specifications. Had he been 27, they might have protested and tried to persuade him otherwise. But he wasn’t 27. He was 34, and furthermore they were leaving the country.
The next day they contacted the agency that had a liaison with the American agency, who in turn set up a meeting between Man-su’s family and the woman’s. The agent advised that Man-su select at least one other woman. To not go to America with only one possibility, as often times seeing a woman on the Internet and in person could be quite different. But Man-su had no desire to find another woman. He was sure of his choice. As sure as he’d been of anything in his life.
As it turned out the woman no longer lived in Mississippi, but had relocated to her Aunt’s home in California following her family’s house being destroyed by a hurricane in 2005. Man-su’s father wondered aloud how long the girl’s profile had been listed if it hadn’t been changed to reflect the fact that she’d moved such a far distance. He became concerned that the whole thing might be some kind of scam. He’d heard of such things, women signing up with bridal agencies just to get access to a Korean passport or money, only to leave their husband once they’d gotten what they needed.
But there was no deterring Man-su. For a short time he and Nerissa traded letters through the agency. The girl did not speak Korean, as Man-su had hoped. But she promised him she would start studying right away and in the meantime the letters were translated from Korean into English and vice versa.
He, in turn, tried to study English, but he quickly questioned the practicality of doing so. When he got frustrated studying English, it was easy for him to give up. They were going to live in his country, not hers. Why did he need to learn English?
His father, who had studied English on and off for several years to no avail, tried to impress upon Man-su the importance of learning English. But in Man-su’s mind he questioned his father’s logic, since he’d spent so much time studying English, but still couldn’t even engage in basic conversation
When they touched down at the Oakland International Airport Man-su was struck by an overwhelming sense that his life was about to change forever. His palms began to sweat and he felt nervous. How had this happened? How did his life arrive at this? He had always enjoyed being young. In some sense, he had remained a child his entire life. He was hesitant to change anything. Why? Because he was happy. He had always been content. The agent met Man-su and his parents at the airport. Through cumbersome gestures and his father’s limited English it was communicated that the city Nerissa was living in was a little east of Oakland. A smaller city called Livermore. They all continued to smile awkwardly, relieved that the point had been made clear. Occasionally during the car ride the man tired to point out landmarks, certain buildings, a baseball stadium, but Man-su couldn’t understand a word and his father didn’t bother trying to translate.
During the car ride Man-su got even more nervous. He almost started to cry. He could clearly feel he was leaving one part of his life, moving into another. It was exciting, but a little sad. As the car rolled down the freeway Man-su was surprised how at night America looked much the same as Korea. The same kind of freeway, buildings with lights. The cars were bigger, but that was about it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his parents. He had been their son for so long, but now he was going to be an adult. Soon, he might have his own son, who would in turn grow up and at some point would experience the same feelings Man-su was having now. It was all very exciting, but also little sad. The passing of time. Change.
When they got to the apartment Nerissa was living in Man-su doubted if he had the strength to walk. His legs felt like rubber and he still wanted to cry. The apartment was old. The people who lived in it were clearly poor. Old beat up cars encircled the building, some were parked in actual parking spaces, but some had parked as if the owner had simply abandoned their car. There was an empty swimming pool, the inside covered in dried and dead moss. Children’s toys were strewn around the area, along with empty fast food containers and other random junk. Two women sat on a stairway smoking. They were ashing into an instant coffee can. They peered at Man-su and his family through their smoke, their faces blank and still.
A drop of sweat made its way down Man-su’s right temple as the agent knocked on the door. Instantly two unfriendly sounding dogs started maniacally barking. Man-su sighed and swallowed. Tears started to well in his eyes. What had he done? What kind of stupid idea was this, coming all the way to America to meet a girl he’d only seen on the Internet? A girl he knew nothing about. A girl who couldn’t even speak Korean. A girl whose country he knew next to nothing about.
As Man-su’s emotion began to spin out of control he felt a familiar touch, the fingers of his mother coming between his own fingers. While his hand was hot and sweaty, almost numb from the nervousness that possessed him like a dark spirit, his mother’s was cool, soft, calm and reassuring. Once her fingers had found their familiar and comfortable position, she squeezed his hand ever so slightly, just as she had so many times before. In feeling his mother’s love the emotion in his heart started surge. Not wanting to meet his future wife with tears streaming down his face, he stopped breathing. He held his breath, forcing the tears to stay locked inside his eyes. He slowly took a long breath in through his nostrils and his chest expanded, filling with fresh air. Someone from inside the house screamed at the dogs and Man-su could hear them scramble away from the door. He watched the doorknob as it turned, and squeezed his mother’s hand tightly as the door finally came open.