Laurel

I'm going to go 'round my elbow to get to my thumb, but bear with me: I do have a point.

When I lived in South Korea, I was always struck by the women who always appeared to be shy of attention and acquiescent. Women seldom made eye contact with me as I went about and seemed to long to go unnoticed. Several women asked me why I would wish to do a man's job (interestingly enough, the Korean augmentees to the U.S. Army who worked for me refused to call me 'Ma'am' and insisted on addressing me as 'Sir' as they culturally could not comprehend or accept a woman as a superior) instead of performing a role suitable to my gender.

I learned that appearances can be deceiving.

It was common for officers to hire local women to perform tasks like cleaning and laundry; in fact, it was a lucrative business for the local women. The woman I hired, Iseul, worked for several other officers in my building and became a friend to me and was happy to pass along cultural insight and answer questions that I asked of her.

She was a wisp of a woman (she scarcely came up to my shoulders) with a weathered face and kind eyes that were quick to wrinkle into crescent moons when she laughed. She could starch a uniform so that it cracked and popped when it was donned and could shine boots to a lacquered finish (she also insisted on ironing creases into my jeans which turned out to be indelible). She also left notes about my room telling me that I hadn't eaten enough (there weren't adequate dishes in the sink) or that I should buy tea (none was to be found in my cupboard) to help me to relax and ward off illness.

The pay Iseul requested seemed insufficient for the amount of work she did: in the 18 months I lived in South Korea I never once cleaned my bathroom, washed dishes, or did my own laundry, and Iseul wouldn't have had it any other way. She became something of surrogate mother. Though she wouldn't accept additional money for work done, she had no qualms about asking for Coca-Cola and Frosted Flakes which I happily bought for her.

As we became more and more acquainted (how can you not when your personal items are being washed by another), Iseul began to tell me stories of her childhood and upbringing. She was born to working class parents: her father a farmer, her mother a worker in the rice paddies, occupations that did not provide handsomely for a large family. Iseul had many siblings and all worked alongside of their father in order to support the family. I learned much about Iseul's upbringing and the circumstances that led her to seek work as a maid later in life.

With each story Iseul related about the women in her family, I grew to learn that Korean women have a quiet, unassuming strength about them, one that doesn't seek notice. Once, Iseul proudly relayed how her mother never missed a day's work not even to give birth, and no one thought anything of it!

When I received a call that my sister had given birth to my niece, I couldn't help but think of Iseul and how she would've raised a glass of coke to my sister and her unassuming strength. After laboring for five hours, my sister pushed three times and my niece, Laurel, came into the world perfect and beautiful.

I cannot wait to travel to meet her in a few short weeks and kiss her yummy cheeks!