The largest factory in the far northeastern city of Hoeryong is Taesong tobacco plant. It is one of the few factories which has continued its operations throughout the disruption and chaos of the last 15 years. It is also quite a popular place to get a job, the locals work hard to secure a job at the factory.

Indeed, Taesong factory gives its employees a number of impressive perks, since it produces tobacco for the military’s consumption, it is officially considered to be a military enterprise. Therefore all its employees are issued food rations – a rare privilege in North Korea nowadays. Salaries are also quite large (but still below the survival level), but the major attraction of the factory is something else: it’s a place where it is easy to steal things which are in high demand on the market.

Theft has always been a problem in state socialist economies. They are not known for their shortages for nothing, thus there is always the temptation for workers to steal produce or equipment. At the same time, management is not too eager to try to prevent theft. After all, property which is stolen belongs to the state, that is, to nobody. So, there are many cases when management is willing to turn a blind eye to theft.

Similar problems can be seen in virtually all communist states, but in North Korea of the past fifteen years, these problems have acquired a remarkable scale.

Let’s return to the Taesong factory. There are at least three things which can be stolen from there. First, workers can take the finished product – that is, cigarettes themselves. Second, the tobacco leaves can also be easily sold. Third, cigarette paper is of great value because many families in the city of Hoeryong are engaged in small-scale private production of cigarettes – and making cigarettes is impossible without cigarette paper. Needless to say, workers are quite happy to steal all three items.

There is an established system of theft, with a well-defined division of labor. There are workers who can move blocks of cigarettes outside the factory, but in order to do so one has to have good connections with the guards or alternatively be willing to pay a significant bribe. Therefore, the average worker who removes a block or two once every couple of days, would have trouble in getting his loot outside the factory perimeter.

As one might expect, entrepreneurial spirit has come to the rescue. There are a number of professional go-betweens, whose job it is to move large quantities of stolen cigarettes, paper and tobacco leaves across the factory fence. These people have cozy relations with some guards and can therefore, remove the loot with impunity.

The late Kim Jong-il visiting the Taesong tobacco plant

So the workers don’t usually sell the stolen goods themselves, instead they are bought from them by the go-between, who then proceeds to smuggle the goods out and sell them at market. In most cases, go-betweens don’t take unnecessary risks: instead of selling goods at the open market, they go straight to wholesalers who send the product across the whole of North Korea.

The Taesong factory managers and accountants have estimated that some 20-25% of the total factory output ends up being stolen. But not much can be done about it.

Of course, tobacco products are in high demand in a country where virtually all adult males smoke. Nonetheless, entrepreneurial workers find stealable items, even in a highly inhospitable environment.

For example, another major factory in the city of Hoeryong is the Mining equipment plant, now barely functioning due to the general economic crisis. As one would expect, mining equipment would be of little use in private houses, but workers have access to sheet iron and other metals which are in high demand.

The easiest way is to remove sheet iron from the factory and then sell it at market. More entrepreneurial workers have found a more profitable solution – they use sheet iron to make crude nails, such nails are inferior in quality to standard nails, but can be sold very cheaply, since the raw material is essentially free.

In some cases, workers use factory equipment to produce items for sale. For example, a foundry in the Hoeryong city area is known for the production of iron cooking utensils. Such utensils are made by workers during their work hours, using state-owned raw materials and equipment. A former worker observed that this small scale private production may be the major reason that keeps most workers at the foundry.

The problem of theft from the state has become far worse in the last 15-20 years – obviously a reflection of North Korea’s sorry economic situation. However, theft from the state itself has been around since the inception of the North Korean state socialist economy. Like it or not, the problem is the result of structure of the economy. So it is likely to persist as long as the state operated economy continues to exist.

____________________________________________________________
Andrei Lankov is a Russian scholar of Asia and a specialist in Korean studies. He completed his undergraduate and graduate studies at Leningrad State University in 1986 and 1989, respectively; He also attended Pyongyang’s Kim Il-sung University in 1985. He currently teaches at Kookmin University in Seoul and is the author of several books on North Korean history and politics.

CONFLICTING STATEMENTS

The Three Wise Monkeys is in possession of new evidence suggesting firstly, that PVT Andre Fisher was incarcerated largely based on what was perceived to be conflicting testimony and that secondly, there is a crucial witness to events of the 18 and 19 November 2010, the day before and of the crime. It is believed that this individual, a member of the US Army, matches the description of the person seen fleeing the 2010 crime scene where the alleged aggravated robbery of a Korean taxi driver took place.

Immediately following his arrest in the morning of 19 November 2010, it appears as though no statement was given by PVT Fisher, nor was he sworn in in any capacity. No law enforcement or legal paperwork appears to contain his signature or fingerprint before 26 November 2010. Although the reason behind this can be attributed to the standard operating procedure when processing USFK soldiers from ROK law enforcement to USFK military police, it meant that no statement was taken from the suspect for seven days following the crime. These seven days may have been vital in PVT Fisher issuing a thorough recount of his whereabouts at the time of the crime and the hours beforehand.

On 26 November 2010 PVT Fisher in an interview with two South ROK Police Officers, Fisher was asked,

“Can the suspect provide an account of how he came to Itaewon?”

He responded:

“After finishing work in the base at Dongducheon, I met a friend… to go to COEX shopping mall in Gangnam and there we met an ordinary American Jerry Jeffrey… and we shopped there for 4-5 hours and after spending time eating dinner we rode his car to Itaewon. Then we were going to a club but did not go to the club and spent time looking and walking around the streets of Itaewon. During that time, I was arrested by the police.”

PVT Fisher goes on to state that on the night of the crime he was in the company of “Jarrod Jeffry” and that he (Fisher) had lost his cell phone the day before his arrest, “at the military base.”

Andre Fisher stated to 3WM, prior to 3WM obtaining this transcript, that he refused to sign this initial statement due to the officers questioning him “trying to twist” his words. Interestingly, the bottom of this interview transcript clearly states “Declarant: Refused to sign.”

PVT Fisher was again questioned on 9 March 2011. This statement contradicted his previous statement on 26 November 2010. Within PVT Fisher’s second statement, he claimed that on 18 November 2010 he met Jarrod Jeffry at 1300 at Bosan Station in Dongducheon, that he lost his cell phone in a taxi that morning and that “…around 1 p.m. I met… Jeffrey and shopped and ate at COEX Mall in Samseong-dong until 12 at night, and the next day at 00:40 AM, I rode… Jeffrey’s car to the UN Club at Itaewon.”

In what appears as confusion on both sides, the prosecutor then asks if PVT Fisher claimed in his original interview that: “he finished working at his base… on 2010.11.18 around 7 p.m. and rode the subway with a friend… to COEX Mall in Gangnam, and there he met… Jeffrey and shopped and dined for 4-5 hours, and after 12 at night he rode… Jeffrey’s car to Itaewon.”

According to the original transcript, PVT Fisher did not make this statement. It is not clear from evidence what information the prosecutor is working from, if any.

Peculiarly, PVT Fisher responds “…when I made a statement at the police office, I said that I went with my friend Miles and Jerry Jeffrey to COEX in… Jeffrey’s car.”

This also contradicts the transcription of the initial interview in which PVT Fisher states that “I met a friend… to go to COEX shopping mall in Gangnam… and there we met… Jeffrey.”

Due to these widely conflicting statements and perhaps best described in the court report issued by the 5th Criminal Department of Seoul District Court on 2 August 2011, “There is something suspicious about his testimony.”

Yet, despite widely contradictory alibis there is a key factor to consider: PVT Fisher was unquestionably sentenced based on highly questionable accounts of evidence, little of which was presented to him in detailed and accurate translation. Strangely, the same documentation clearly states “…although it is true that there is no hard evidence that the cash and the money clip that the defendant was found to have on him are the same as the ones belonging to the victim… it is fairly arguable that these are the same.”  Add this the court’s  assertion that because the money found on Fisher at the time of his arrest–14,000KRW–was in order, it must have been the taxi driver’s as 1) the taxi driver stated that that was how he carried his money (after seeing the bills) and 2) it is “unusual” for people to carry their money this way.  The fact that the original amount stolen from the taxi driver some 20 minutes earlier was 94,000KRW is largely dismissed.

This document, the same document used to make a decision to uphold the sentencing of PVT Fisher further accounts that “In his initial testimony to the police, he said that the night before the crime took place, he met with his friend… around 7:00 p.m… took the subway to a shopping mall… at Itaewon, met there with a man called… Jeffry, spent some time together, said bye to… (his friend) past midnight, rode in… Jeffry’s car to Hangang-jin and was… arrested. But his testimony to the prosecution was different.”

This is false and does not match what PVT Fisher said in his initial testimony to the police. PVT Fisher’s initial testimony to the police was contradicted by his second interview, recounted four months after the date in question.

Neither PVT Fisher nor the legal documentation sentencing him appears to uphold consistent or accurate information.

WITNESSES

The delay in covering further aspects of PVT Fisher’s case falls into two categories. Firstly, 3WM is waiting on varying degrees of clearance from the US Military to conduct a number of interviews with key figures surrounding the detention of PVT Fisher, as well as further acquisition of otherwise unobtainable documentation. Secondly, there is a key witness to the PVT Fisher case in possession of crucial information that could potentially close the book on a large proportion of the story. This witness has continued to be highly evasive; despite numerous opportunities the individual have not come forward. 3WM has succeeded in locating this individual–who is no longer in South Korea–and will report on any and all further information obtained.

Dae-hyun Ji and Elena J contributed research and translation.

How do you stop a scammer? You contact the police, present evidence of the scam and wait for justice to be served, right? Unfortunately that justice may be–and usually is–slow to arrive, if it ever does. The system has to do its work as the judicial machine chugs or sputters along. Such is the current case with Wan-koo Kang (aka Wystan, aka Joseph Kim), the man behind a travel scam that appears to have stretched on over years, raking in tens of thousands of dollars, ruining people’s “scheduled” trips sometimes leaving them ticketless at the beginning of a planned journey or stranded in the middle of a trip with no return ticket. That is until victims began to mobilize and attention turned to Kang’s brazen chicanery.

That attention led to the initial September shutdown of Kang’s Zenith Travel agency and his October arrest (though the court decided not to detain him). But the snake slithered on, continuing his dirty dealings under both his original name and the pseudonym Joseph Kim–Kim worked at the new Expert Travel in the Songpa District of southern Seoul. Brazenly and some would say, stupidly, under the name Kim, Kang sent out an email advertisement for Expert Travel’s “Cheapest Air Tickets” to more than a hundred people, including people he’d scammed while working at Zenith Travel.

Eventually, word got out, the Korea Herald was contacted by victims and its investigation discovered that Kim and Kang were one in the same (Kang’s ID was used to identify him in person and a person who’d previously dealt with Kang confirmed his identity). The scam had mutated and relocated.

But how could he be stopped? The prosecutors were still working on the original case, though the case had been transferred from the Central Branch of the Seoul District Prosecutors’ Office to the Eastern Branch and as a result, had a new prosecutor assigned. Let the law do its work, was the general message expressed by the authorities; these things take time.

Following up on an earlier connection with the Korea Tourism Organization’s Tourism Complaint Center, 3WM contacted director of its English section, Kim Hyun-joo. Ms. Kim had established earlier contact with the Prosecutors’ Office and other district government offices in relation to the original shutdown of Zenith Travel and Kang’s arrest. Expressing disbelief that Kang could still be operating with impunity, she was eager to take action.

Working with Ms. Kim since December, 3WM gathered information from victims and passed it on to her. She also contacted the Songpa District Office to notify them of Expert Travel and “Joseph Kim.” “We need evidence,” she was told repeatedly. The fact that Expert Travel only had a registration for doing business with Koreans decidedly was the best thing to go after in order to achieve some success in stopping the scam. Once 3WM was able to provide evidence that proved Kim had conducted business with foreigners, the wheels began to move and on January 17 Expert Travel agency had its registration to do any business suspended under the Korean Promotion Act (Article 33).

“According to the Songpa [district] Office, any new travel contacts during the period of 2012/01/17~2012/02/26 are illegal,” said Ms. Kim. What about Kang? Can he continue to do business? “Legally he cannot do any business as he does not work for a registered travel agency,” Ms. Kim said. “But if he operates illegally, that is hard to stop until the court allows the prosecution to detain him,” she added. Ms. Kim stressed that the law is the law and there is no way to rush things. She passed on all evidence she received to the prosecutors’ office (after translating documents to Korean) and they said they would deal with it. Yet they also stated that Kang “has no money,” according to Ms. Kim. Apparently, the bank accounts that were listed in detailed evidence provided by recent victims have been locked but are largely empty. Such are the skills of a scammer.

In discussions with Tae jin Jo, 32, the attorney representing 20-some victims in a civil lawsuit against Kang, there is no date for the first trial hearing and the chances of having victims’ losses recovered seem slim. “I have a confidence that we win this civil lawsuit, since we have enough evidences to prove our damages against him. But I’m not sure whether we could receive our money from him or his company, because it absolutely depends on his or his company’s assets. That’s why we took temporary seizures on his or his [company's] assets,” said Jo who is a public lawyer working for the Korea Legal Aid Company, an arm of the Korean Ministry of Justice. Jo described the Korea Legal Aid Company as helping those like “the poor, the handicapped, farmers, criminal victims etc who need legal aid for free or at the lowest expense.”

The company helps foreigners living in Korea as well as Koreans, “especially in case of foreigners who are suffering from unpaid wage, domestic violence or criminal case as defendant, we represent them for free in Korean court,” said Jo.

Meanwhile, Jo, is waiting for that first day in court and believes “all civil procedure will be finished by this year.”

For now, Kang has had another agency shut down–at least for now–but he’s still out there and could be firing out emails to the next unsuspecting traveler as I write or you read. Travelers be wary.

As you the reader knows, no teacher ever plans to end up in a failing academy. However, shit happens in this increasingly dicier job market. The dicier the economy the more threadbare are English teacher choices: you’ll grab at anything, even potential stinkers. You do your Internet background check, if the place passes; you dive out the door pushing any misgivings to the back of your mind.

Earlier this year, after two wonderful years of teaching in a public school position, I faced this prospect. My employer had run out of money, rumour had it a retiring government official had embezzled area funds and so the area needed to cut back on expenses. Thanks for your teaching, please don’t name Mr. X in a story and turn in your keys as you leave.

The easy way from there was taken: a recruiter. Heaven was promised purgatory was delivered with deals that fell through and the last minute usual sales pitch of a lovely hagwon, great pay, spacious apartment and well behaved students. Also, we’re sorry you can’t talk to the foreign teacher already on staff. Relax; the female director assured me all is well. And can you be there for next Monday?

Gut said no, wallet said yes and without any other firm offers, I signed a contract. A truck pulled up the next day, a few boxes later, off we went to a small city in eastern Korea. Waiting on the other end was a kind grandmother and the smiling director’s husband, the wife was busy elsewhere that Saturday.

As promised the apartment was great, a two bedroom affair where no one would be bothering me because of its way-out-of-the-way location. The hagwon was though entirely different, it was a disaster of peeling wallpaper, screaming kids and a female director slinkying around the school screaming at anyone and trying to figure out what to do. She and her husband had bought a franchise school from a chain that sold lemons.

Flipping through the text books, I pictured them being written during bouts of late night heavy drinking and bong hits. The few advanced students that came and went took a break from their busy day for what seemed to me a comedy workshop. With joy and uncontrollable laughter they would search for screwball grammar in the books and then laugh as they tested each other and corrected them. The only other foreign teacher there approached me for the first and the last time in the Teacher’s room. “If I had known your number, I’d have warned you”. He was the brooding veteran English teacher survivor type. He moved around the school slowly never talking yet always looking like he was in pain. He explained after his first few months here that the academy had done a cartwheel from a large nationally known chain-school to resurface as a smaller and struggling school with a less known brand name.

My complaining to the recruiter was an exercise in futility. They told me all that was wrong here were my nerves; I was too sensitive. I hadn’t become accustomed to the new job yet. They said this to shut me up so they could collect their fee. In this tough economy, I honestly understand their needing the money. And anyway, the original recruiter that sent me to the place quit and was out of contact. I was on my own professionally and socially so in the interim, I tried to tough it out, bad books, no Korean management back up and students who were perfected off-the-hook horrors. Drop your guard and the two finger poke and the sneeze spray in the face let the teacher know who was boss. Us two foreign teachers had no safe place and no respect, the latter sentiment ran from the top down from the management who always averted looking at the foreigner teacher’s eyes. To the kids who either hated or loved us depending on the day.

Here was a school where acquiring English was put in reverse. Sending the kid to this academy probably set them back 3 to 6 months in a matter of weeks. The pupils with brains, they came, they saw, they ran for the door. Useful ideas to actually teach the students were discarded; the teacher’s room stacked with the large library of unused, inherited, dusty English books.

Tension was building; the weekly staff meeting begot more fights than discussions between the director and teachers. The female director would act like she was on intimate terms with the teachers and then fly out the door to take her call. It was all getting dysfunctional in a hurry. Whatever great ideas we had for saving the classes weren’t used, it’s as if the place had spotted an iceberg and wanted to hit it, square on, full speed: the director seemed that out of control and destructive.

The only time the spiteful, condescending director was nice came with the weekends. Drinking Friday nights, if you hit the right bar, she might actually say a liquored friendly `hi’ as she trolled for men with a hoary looking wing woman. Rumour was it was okay, she was in an open marriage, so she had protection from the busy-body attitudes rampant in small Korean cities. In my opinion she wasn’t much to look at anyway; the cat humped my leg the wrong way.

In the wee hours of a Saturday morning, though she more than once staggered herself into an apartment not her own. This witch’s magic came from knowing just when the soju beet red was deep enough to make her look like a racing model, or so she thought. She didn’t care about her farm boy husband, she didn’t care about what her teachers had gotten up to on those nights. Yet on Mondays somehow her and her husband would be in synch and smiling, able to put on a good show for the parents that often visited.

Then her marriage fell through and the rumour mill exploded. Had she found a man who didn’t need soju glasses? No more one night stands? She dropped the school and ran off in a boyfriend’s or maybe even a girlfriend’s arms? Whatever happened to the dragon lady boss and her other partner remains to this day a mystery. She shut off her cell phone, broke contact with any family and didn’t respond to emails from teachers or the student’s parents.

Two weeks later, in the school’s last days, I joked in the teacher’s room the story of her disappearing with her lover had provided the context and the cover for a perfect murder. The director’s camera looked over my shoulder as I joked this, and, coincidentally, the next day, the cuckold told me to find a new job.

The wife’s disappearance had triggered the final days of the academy. The snarling, sarcastic, manic cat-n-heat glue that she gave off and kind of held everything together was gone. No longer were the schedules being properly done, no new books ordered nor the extra evening classes taught. What was left was a mostly clueless husband in shambles and incapable.

Want discipline without a prowling cougar, forget about it. Want a time out after a kid’s ambush tests a painful Taekwondo punch on you, forget about it. Freezing in the classroom, you’re told forget about it. Want to know if your director will be showing up unannounced at your apartment with her own key? I got out of there when everything started to crash just so I could forget about it. I guess it’s back to Dave’s ESL Café.

___________________________________________________________

Allan Smithee is a TESOL teacher in Korea who just wants to survive a few years here and take a long holiday in Thailand.

Cal Green was a guitarist who dabbled in a broad range of musical styles. Growing up in Texas in the 1940s and 1950s, he was at first influenced by the blues. Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown was his idol as a youngster. Then, in 1954, Hank Ballard and The Midnighters came thru town in 1954. An R&B outfit, Hank and the boys had just lost their guitarist to the draft and were in need of a replacement. Cal fit the bill, and he played with this group until 1959. Enter the 1960s and Cal Green entered the world of jazz. Most notably he played with organist Jack McDuff and vocalist Lou Rawls during this time frame.

(vangrooveexpress.blogspot.com)

Trippin’, the 45 you see here, is on the Mutt and Jeff label, a small Los Angeles-based label that issued a handful of releases in the late 1960s. Some sites tell me that this single was released in 1967 and others tell me 1969. I do know, though, that Cal Green released the album, Trippin’ With Cal Green, in 1969. So maybe the single came out a year or two earlier. I can’t say for sure. Anyway, I’ve copied a photo of Cal’s album below for your visual enjoyment:

Trippin’ has an airy atmosphere to it a la Wes Montgomery but without the lush syrupy string arrangements. Indeed, it is a chilled-out funky soulful jazzy affair. Have a listen!!!

Sound file is for educational purposes only.

Shows Friday 8 p.m., Saturday 7 p.m. & Sunday 3 p.m.

Tickets 15,000won (Book them here)

See here for directions to the theatre.

If you’re planning to travel this winter, pay very close attention to whom that travel agent is claiming to be able to get you “Real Cheap Travel.” The clues will be rather obvious: he goes by the name Wystan Kang or Joseph Kim; he works for Zenith Travel or Expert Travel; he promises he has a great fare lined up for you to Palau, Hanoi, Bangkok, Fukuoka…anywhere; you need to wire the amount to his bank account before you can get the ticket; days start to pass and he’s not getting back to you; The ticket may have some trouble, he tells you (or maybe he doesn’t and you end up at the airport where you’re informed the ticket has been cancelled); he can’t return your money; he’s very sorry.

This is the story that dozens of expats have to tell stretching back many months. Yet there had been a hint of justice in October of 2011 when Wan-koo Kang (aka Wystan, aka Joseph Kim) was arrested, had his business license suspended by the Seocho District Office and the doors of Zenith Travel were closed. The case then went from the Seoul Metro Police Agency’s International Crime Investigation Department to the Central Branch of the Seoul District Prosecutors’ Office and then on to the Eastern Branch of the Seoul District Prosecutors’ Office where it is continuing now. Reportedly, Kang was taken before a court after his arrest where the judges determined that he would be released without detention while the case proceeded.

Calls placed to the International Crime Investigation Dept. to reach the Sergeant who’d originally handled the case were responded to with bemusement and a notification that the officer no longer worked there (he’d been transferred). The Prosecutors’ Office responding to inquiries said that a new prosecutor had been appointed to the case. That prosecutor, Kim Chi-hyoon, said the office is aware of the new Expert Travel agency and is working to gather more evidence to prove that it is in fact Wan-koo Kang working there (John Power at the Korea Herald previously assured 3WM that he confirmed that it is certainly Kang).

Kim Hyun-joo of the Korea Tourism Organization’s Tourism Complaint Center, who first became aware of the case at the end of August, 2011, continues to gather what evidence she can to present to the Prosecutors’ Office. In several conversations over the past week Ms. Kim repeatedly said that there needs to be more evidence to show the connection between Kang and Kim. “We need documented facts that can be presented to the prosecutors and then to a judge,” said Ms. Kim. Until Wednesday, January 25, Ms. Kim will be accepting any evidence which she will translate and submit to the Prosecutors’ Office on Monday, January 30. She believes this evidence will allow for Kang to be detained by the court. “If we present evidence, the Prosecutors’ Office can take it to the court and ask for Kang to be arrested and detained,” said Ms. Kim. “This is wrong and I want to see him punished,” she added.

A fair number of the victims who number in the dozens (at least), are feeling a sense of futility as the cases roll on—there is one criminal case and several civil cases against Kang—with little to no information available while Kang continues to audaciously operate. “I think people are waiting for us to leave,” said Liroy Lourenco, 25, who was scammed by Kang for 1,495,000 KRW in July. Lourenco, an English teacher from South Africa, had Kang book him a flight home for September and received the flight itinerary below.

A few weeks later, Lourenco was informed that the flight had been cancelled and sent the standard apology letter from Kang saying, “Sorry for the trouble. I will refund you the money but I can’t give you the money immediatley because unfortunately we are now having money problem. I will give you the money back sooner. Advise me of your bank account number. Thank you, Wystan Kang.”

Needless to say, the money was never returned just as it was never returned to many others–so far the highest amount is 10 million KRW for a couple followed by 9 million KRW and 5 million KRW. Lourenco says he’s sticking around for a few more years but others may be leaving. “I’m not going anywhere but I think the prosecutor and even Wystan himself think people are leaving so it will just go away,” he said.

Safee Ullah, a 31-year-old from Pakistan and a PhD candidate at Kaist, will not be leaving anytime soon and is not giving up the fight. “We are taking this into our own hands,” said Ullah. In August of 2011, Ullah and his wife were scammed out of 1.9 million KRW by Kang. Since then he’s been frustrated and baffled by the Korean legal system and its handling of the case. “The police, the prosecutors, they don’t give us any information,” said Ullah. “I’ve called different offices more than 50 times and they either can’t explain anything, don’t know anything or hang up on me–they shut me off a couple of times,” he continued. He added that the different offices seem to be completely out of touch: “The prosecutors won’t release information to the police so they can’t tell me anything and when you call the prosecutors they say they can’t tell me anything.”  A letter Ullah received last week from the Central Prosecutors’ Office in response to his inquiry simply said the case was transferred to the Eastern Prosecutors’ Office (this confirms the “new” prosecutor mentioned above).

With rising frustration, Ullah has moved to appeal to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Human Rights Commission and the Prime Minister’s Office. “I am collecting all the necessary information and I am going to submit it to them,” said Ullah. In addition, Ullah says he can’t believe that simple facts and connections remain useless in the Korean system. “He has many of the same [bank] accounts and he has to register those with his national registration number–can’t they just match those up?” he suggested. “His email, the business registration…can’t they trace those?” Ullah asked incredulously. Ullah said that three other students at Kaist had also be scammed by Kang.

The sense of bewilderment surrounding the case is understandably widespread among the victims. One victim who wished to remain anonymous due to the continuing case (a number of people said they were told by the attorney handling the case to refrain from making statements–one said, “The lawyer said we shouldn’t run our mouths”) explained her perspective, writing:

I am leaving Korea in June and I only hope it has all been resolved then. I know there are other victims who have lost a lot more money than me but there was nothing worse than having to contact my family at one stage telling them I probably wasn’t going to make it home and I hadn’t been home since leaving Korea almost 2 years ago.

Like I said, I know there are others who are worse off but it hurt and I was very very stressed.

I have kind of come to terms with the fact that there is a chance that we maybe not get our money back..not a lot seems to be going on, particularly because he’s still at it. Let’s see..

Another individual who is currently dealing with “Joseph Kim” contacted 3WM after having wired 1,365,000 KRW to Kim’s Hana Bank account on December 22 to pay for a ticket back to the States. No ticket had been issued. He wrote:

“I’m currently dealing with Joseph Kim. I’m scheduled to fly out on Jan 22, i paid but still don’t have a ticket. I finally got him on the phone and I was promised one yesterday, and promised one today, but still nothing. I think I’m being scammed. I’m looking for some advice on how to to get my money back from him before it’s too late…”

Following that initial email last week, 3WM has stayed in contact with the individual to see what the status of the ticked was. Over the weekend things remained uncertain but then, on Monday afternoon, the individual emailed saying, “Got the ticket over the weekend! Pray that everything remains okay. Good luck to the others and keep up your good work. I’ll let you know if anything else happens.”

Quickly Safee Ullah responded to a similar message that the individual posted on the Case against Wystan Kang Facebook page saying, “He sent me confirmed tickets and then cancelled them 1 day before I was supposed to leave!”

Less than an hour later the individual responded confirming what every other victim already knew:

When I checked the flight on the internet, it said “confirmed.” Obviously, I was quite relieved, but when I called the airline to notify them about the possible scam and to confirm that I was the only one to be able to change it, they said that they couldn’t answer that yet because the flight wasn’t “ticketed” yet. in other words, not paid for….

3WM will continue to follow this case. Anyone interested in contacting

Kim Hyun-joo of the Korea Tourism Organization’s Tourism Complaint Center with information related to the case can email her at tourcom@knto.or.kr or call her at 02-735-0101. Be aware that she is working on other cases as well.

Craftworks Brewery and Bistro is located just a little off the thoroughfares dividing Gyeongi-do from Haebangchon; the two expanding eat and drink destination areas for foreigners and neo-liberal Koreans. The easiest way to get from one to the other is to use one of the ugliest overpasses in the world. But it must be a good location. It’s 6 p.m. on Saturday night and Craftworks is full. The only available table is in the group smoking tent, but no one usually smokes enough in that area for it to make a difference to anyone.

You probably won’t miss Craftworks; the sign board on the street is a good catch all. Inside the two sets of front doors is a swag menagerie where Craftworks t-shirts and mugs are displayed and for sale. This reminds me that Craftworks is expensive. The last time I passed the t-shirt display I had a self-deceiving revelation. I thought if you drank at bars with happy hours in Itaewon and HBC you could save money for the plane flight to Hoboken, NJ and drink where the noir giants drank (like Sinatra and Bogart), but that’s not gonna happen. I have checked the price at beer and burger joints back there and it is all categorically the same. No smoking is a big part of the appeal at meathead brew pubs and they all sell t-shirts. I think Yankee Stadium was the first venue to sell t-shirts.

As a veteran English teacher, I don’t have the money to buy food or Scotch at Craftworks. I am saving money in hopes of buying the New York Mets. I know the ownership grubstake will be infinitesimally small. A drop in the ocean literally but it is good to have something to look forward to. We all need that. The linoleum plastic bar here is really a large wait-station for the serving staff.  Of course it is spill proof and of course again it is think proof. Really they don’t want you milling around at the bar. It’s not that kind of public house and no one can let fly moments fit for riotous banquets. To keep the place cleanly circulating you have to be sitting up in your chair at a table with a pre-course drink, eating, or have eaten enough and be getting ready to pay the bill. And it all has to start as soon as you get here. Could you pay ahead and eat something soon (though I am pretty sure Craftworks won’t cash bank or day-labor checks for you). If you go right to the batter, three or four small ones will fuel the downtown train with a one-way ticket and you’ll be shit-faced in pallookaville. There really isn’t a ‘session’ beer at Craftworks, one that is light and cheap. After an I.P.A (International Pretentious Asswater), I straight went to the pilsner at 5000 won for maybe 6 or 7 ounces.

The bartender that night was Jeremy. He’s amiable and professional yet can you really inspect the secrets of the world with a bartender who hasn’t seen the latest Woody Allen film? Can you? I remember some months in the past there was this wonton attitude impersonating a woman. Some Lady Gaga chick just waiting to bust out and tell you that she doesn’t like white men and then start dancing (without a pole) about that fact. So who was there? A familiar face peering out of the corner from the kitchen, Melvin. He is Cora’s (the one who runs the Pinoy Mart in HBC) son. He didn’t seem too drunk. Why is it always a pleasure when you spot someone you know working in the kitchen?

There was not a sport jacket or a pair of corduroys in the place. And no wool, virgin or otherwise. It’s denim and it’s leather but it’s not rock ‘n’ roll it is ‘the smart set’. I am not self-conscious in my polyester herringbone pants. The one thing that is obvious is that the world is divided into two kinds of people–those who get drunk and the tourists who watch. And I’m all for the fine drink and fine food mantra of brew pubs, but where are the fine people? I don’t mean Facebook-ready posers but those with a fine soul. The place could use a fireman or a cop telling the bar about the day they had. Of course firemen and police officers have their own neighborhood bars. Can you blame them? I can’t. The Korean natives like sitting at the tables and looking at the menu almost as much as the foreigners do. The average couple spends about 60 minutes tableside at Craftworks and one of the thrills for the patrons has to be reading the menu. I doubt many foreigners read much for anything and read even less offline. It’s like they are exercising grey cells before those get lost.

Being I am one of them I hate when the world turns it back on scruffy people and Craftworks makes me feel scruffy. Because the bar is new, on close inspection you will realize that it has some personality but no one hanging out in it does. There has never been a time when someone crossed a diamond with a pearl and the place just went off. What you spend your time and money on in here is racket and camouflage. People are consumed in their own-table world. I mean I don’t know if the food is good, but I am sure that the pitch of the place is set up so one can’t really hear anyone else (pun intended). This is exactly what today’s out-on-the-towner wants: a place to talk about themselves and where they can’t hear anyone or anything else.
The out-of-towner at Craftworks wants to get it right by sticking around long enough to eat twice. That should be fun but there is no real epicurean style here, no citizens of the world banqueting with outbursts of wit followed by clanking of glasses with strangers. Yet everyone exudes the ‘I was popular in high school and I am popular now’ vibe.

“Housing prices are going up more and more”

“And as a woman”

“Steve Jobs”

“I would like to have a boy first then a girl.”

“I hired 15 Korean staff.”

“Drink twice because you lost the first game.”

“I’m depressed because it’s my birthday and I don’t eat cake.”

I mean it is Saturday night in the big city and this is all the poetry you are gonna get. Table consumption! It is what it is. Except something is changing. The drinking culture in these expat neighborhoods is not making sense now. Everyone seems happy during the quiz nights–how nice–but real thought and peace? Gentle solicitude and impromptu outbreaks of a muse? That stuff is running to the past. Why even the owner and barmaid across the river Styx at The Local in Haebanchon just had all the beauty treatments. Now, she expects bar tips because she looks like Michael Jackson. And by the way: Craftworks serves its beer to go!

This place would be a great place to start a class war—if anyone here was actually upper-middle or working class that is. I’ll think of a way to steal that corner patron’s purse or ask the Australian, ‘are you finished with that white bun and ketchup ’? But I shouldn’t do that because nice is the essence of Craftworks: it’s like a chain restaurant with, nice-nice food, nice-nice beer and drink, nice-nice music and nice-nice people. Our nice-nice who art in nice-nice and hallowed be thy nice-nice.
…………………………..……………………………………………………………..

Beer: 4 stars
Food: N/A
Atmosphere: None: A lot less than a meathead bar in Hoboken.
Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.

Read Part 1.

Part 2

After Dinner

After a dinner of rice and fresh cabbage with ssamjang, a bean paste mixed with a bit of pepper paste and garlic, at around 9 p.m., the three sisters resume work. Jin-Ok does the dishes while her younger sisters wash and skin the radishes and ginger in front of the TV on a low table on the floor. They discuss the plot of the soap opera they are watching.

“Why doesn’t she just chuck him in prison for adultery?” complains Young-Ok.

“Relax,” says Jung-Ok. “It’s just a soap opera.”

“No, imagine,” says Young-Ok, “what would you do if you found your husband cheating on you?”

At 10 p.m., when Jin-Pyo gets up to leave, his older sisters see him out to the door, bombarding him with advices on how to find his way back home. He vigorously explains to them that his smart phone has a navigation application and that there is no need to worry. The mass of harsh intonation of Kyeongsang dialect move out the door to where his car is parked. Then, after the car has driven away, the mass of the sound rolls back into the house as the sisters bring out the special board with blades embedded to cut the radishes in thin strips for the peppered spice to go into the cabbages.

“If you sit like that, you’re not going to be able to work for too long,” warns Jin-OK.

Jung-Ok claims that she is better off working with one leg folded under her while the other knee is brought up to her chest to help her balance. Jin-Ok shakes her head and gets started. Young-Ok, sitting on the other side of Jin-Ok and absorbed in the soap opera, quietly works away with her radish.

By the end of the day’s episode of the soap opera, a dramatic theme song fills the living room and the trailer for the next episode runs on TV. Now, the sisters are done with the radishes and they put them together in one big plastic bowl like the one they used for the process of pickling the cabbages and covered it up with clear wrap. The day’s worth of work is finally done. Jung-Ok stands up to pull her arms over her head and stretches. She feels her bones in her spine cracking with each stretch. Young-Ok is already lying on the sofa. Jin-Ok is gathering up the utensils. Then, Jung-Ok bends back down to carry the bowlful of thinly cut radishes to the kitchen. The radishes are left on the dining table with clean wrap to cover the top of the bowl. The Hong sisters will use the radishes to make the peppered spice for the kimchi. One by one, they take turns washing and changing to go to sleep. The gossip and chatting until now was just the beginning–now starts their sisterly sleepover.

The Next Day

Around 9 a.m. the sisters come out to the kitchen, one by one, for breakfast. Jin-Ok trots out first to prepare a breakfast of toast and fried eggs with coffee. Young-Ok and Jung-Ok change back into their trainers and wash up for the day. They all want to finish up and go to the jjimjil-bang, a public bath with various dry saunas of different temperatures.

As soon as they finish breakfast and clean up the dining table, each sits back down and starts on a portion of making the spice for the kimchi. Jin-Ok and Young-Ok peel the garlic that their mother sent them from home along with powdered red pepper. The Hong sisters are from a village deep in the mountains in South Kyeongsang Province where their parents still produce such goods which they occasionally send to their daughters.

In the meantime, Jung-Ok grinds the ginger so that it can be added to the spice. All the while, the topic of their discussion is the goods they get from home and how they are much better than those at markets.

“I once bought powdered red pepper to make a bit of new kimchi and it dyed whatever it touched red,” says Jin-Ok. “From your skin to your clothes, without exception.”

“The bean paste from the market looks great, but if you leave it out for too long, it starts to go black,” complains Jung-Ok.

“You can never compare the quality of mom’s goods to the ones in markets,” says Young-Ok.

“You’re right,” says Jung-Ok. “We’re used to mom’s goods which have no preservatives.”

“When you think about it,” says Young-Ok. “It’s also environmentally friendly. They don’t use any insecticides.”

Soon the garlic and ginger are both ground and they are finally ready to make the spice for the kimchi. They add the garlic and ginger to the enormous plastic bowl with the radishes from last night. Then, Jin-Ok measures with her eyes the amount of pickled shrimp that they will need for seasoning. With each spoonful of the whitish-pink miniature shrimps, she looks at her sisters for approval. The tricky part of Korean recipes: nothing can be measured out of measuring cups; all the measuring relies on intuition. However, the good thing about kim-jang is that there is always someone to confirm the measurements.

The same goes for pickled anchovy, the thick brown muck with a stench. It is amazing what goes into great food. Young-Ok nods and Jung-Ok nods and slurp goes the pickled anchovy. Afterwards, as Jung-Ok, the strongest, pours the pool into the enormous bowl, Jin-Ok and Young-Ok put on plastic gloves to mix the ingredients together. Once the ingredients are well mixed, Jung-Ok, who does not have the plastic gloves on yet, sprinkles the powdered red pepper and sugar by fistfuls. Then, Jung-Ok, too, puts on plastic gloves to help mix. When the spice has finally gained its rightful color, it is ready.

Young-Ok gets up to clear the living room and covers the floor with newspapers. She sets three enormous plastic bowls with plastic boxes big enough to hold six quartered cabbages from each of the sisters’ houses next to the bowls. This is so that after smearing the spices to the salted cabbages, each can put the kimchi in their boxes to take home.

The sisters get started. Jung-Ok, always hardworking, gets a move on and meticulously throws little blobs of the spice into the various layers of the cabbages just as she had done with the salt. Then she smothers the blob on the leaves to help spread it out. Jin-Ok, doing the same, admires the way Young-Ok is working. Young-Ok, who is usually the sly one, trying to wriggle out of working, is getting much more done in a shorter amount of time. However, her techniques seem no different from what her sisters are doing.

While they compliment Young-Ok on her skills and talk about their marriages in lowered whispers, the five hours of adding the spice to the cabbage flies by. They skip lunch and occasionally take short breaks for snacks such as cookies and leftover coffee. When they finish, they rinse out the enormous bowls in the bathroom and lean them against the wall to dry. The kimchi is now ready for fermentation for those who enjoy mature kimchi. For others, the freshness of the kimchi is also a delight.

They quickly get out of the trainers, drenched in the smell of various ingredients, and throw them into plastic bags to take home and wash. Then, they get in Jung-Ok’s car and speedily drive to a nearby jjimjil-bang. After a quick shower, they change into the shorts and shirts that the jjimjil-bang provides. With shik-hae, a sweet drink made of rice, they head for the salt room with a temperature of 64 degrees Celsius and sit there with their drinks. They continue on with the never-ending gossip and talk about their marriages.

“This is the tradition,” says Jin-Ok after she has returned from the dry sauna. “Before the days of jjimjil-bang, we used to go to the public bath, but now, we go to jjimjil-bang. It’s good for relieving stress and getting rid of the muscle aches.”

The process of kim-jang, passed down from at least the beginning of the Chosun dynasty in the late-1300’s, seems to embody the traditional ideology of highly regarding collaboration and cooperation. Kim-jang is not just a tedious project to secure a nice side dish for the winter. It is a means of gathering together the women of a household to let them share their worries and sorrows, their troubles and happy memories. It’s a collective therapy where every participating member is the therapist and everyone is the patient. It’s a therapeutic process despite the bodily aches that persist throughout.

________________________________________________________________
Seon-Myung Yoo studies English Literature and Journalism at Ewha Woman’s University.
Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.

I won’t lie, that last panel was fun to draw.

Anyways, let’s all just try and ignore the fact that I’ve enjoyed the fine art of karaoke for a very VERY long time. If anything, this comic is more of a representation of many people I’ve met out here in Korea. At first, they seem hesitant and even outright against the whole idea of singing in front of other people. After you give them a good half hour or so with that ridiculously large book (which is difficult to share, depending on who you’re with), they’ll eventually find something that’s worth putting their fears and shame aside for.

I’m curious to know what that special song is for everyone else? I know it’s difficult to read, but cool points go to anyone who can guess the special song in this comic is!

Also, for anyone who doesn’t know…

노래방 = Karaoke

It literally translates into “song room,” but you get the idea.

__________________________________________________________
Jen Lee is a Gyopo (교포) who likes to draw and also has an unhealthy obsession with green tea.

Her other artwork can be seen here at http://highway-6.com/art.html and at dearkoreacomic.com