Comfort Woman Story 4/5 | Asian American Features

WITNESS UNBOWED
Page 4 of 5

"There is a factory in Japan where you could go and work for two years. If you go there, I will see to it that your father is released from prison."
When my father saw me coming to his cell, he almost fainted. Gathering himself, he said, "You should never have come here. This is not a place for a girl like you. Please don't come back at all and, whatever you do, please don't let your mother know what you saw today." I stood there with tears streaming down my cheeks. My father looked so frail; he looked as if I could blow him away. Going closer to him, I grabbed his hands but he groaned. Frightened, I pulled my hands away, and saw his hands covered with bandages. "I didn't realize... What happened to your hands?" I saw blood marks around his fingernails. I demanded to know what happened to him. He told me, "They pulled all my fingernails. They did the same thing to my toes." "Do they torture you every day like this? What else did they do to you?" "You don't want to know and you should not trouble yourself anymore. I wish you hadn't come but don't tell your mother." "Is it because of the brassware that they torture you?" I asked. "It's more than that but I can't tell you. Please go back and take good care of your mother." My feet would not move but I had to leave him there in that horrible prison cell. Then the Japanese official who took me to my father's cell came to our house. "There is a factory in Japan where you could go and work for two years. If you go there, I will see to it that your father is released from prison. Immediately after you leave, he will be released." After seeing my father, I didn't think I had a choice; I was only glad that I could do something for my father.
My mother was horrified. She said I couldn't go. She pleaded and begged. "You are the only one I have left. How do you expect that I can live if you also leave me? Besides, you are only fifteen and you have never been anywhere. Two years in a Japanese factory! It's unthinkable." Of course, she didn't know the true state of my father. It was bad enough to leave, but to persuade my mother was something else. Finally, resigned to the situation, my mother quietly packed clothes made of fine materials, occasionally stopping to wipe her tears and pointing to some as special items she had prepared for my wedding someday. I can't tell you how I felt when I followed the Japanese man, leaving my mother behind. Every step away from home was prompted by the image of my father, especially the bandaged hands and feet. His pain was mine; we were so close. Even if I was a girl, I was the only child. I was my father's baby. This stubborn man whose facade was stern as rock had unlimited love for me. Do you know what my name, Seo Woon, means? It means 'feel empty/sorry' [no English equivalent]. My parents were sorry that I wasn't a boy but I didn't care. You know why? My father loved me to death, I knew that.

On a ship headed to Japan, there were many girls and women, some even bubbling with hope that they would earn lots of money for their poverty-stricken families. A Japanese woman introduced herself as the person responsible for taking us to a factory. I closed my eyes and blocked my fear, thinking only about my father who by then would be home under the tender care of my mother.
Upon arrival in Japan, we were made to wait for a few days. Finally, one day, my number was called out. They didn't bother to use our names; we were numbers. I thought we were going to a factory but again they ordered us to get on a huge ship. I still thought we were traveling within Japan. When the ship pulled in some place, I didn't know then but later learned that it was Taiwan. After leaving some girls there, we moved on to Bangkok, Saigon, Singapore, and Jakarta, at each place leaving girls. When we arrived in Bangkok, I felt a strange sensation, knowing that we were not going to a factory in Japan. You understand all these names became clear to me much later. At the time, I didn't know what was happening. I was a prisoner on a ship that kept going. By then, I was devoid of any sense of time--time just felt endless. PAGE 5

| Page 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

CONTACT US | ADVERTISING INFO

© 1996-2013 Asian Media Group Inc
No part of the contents of this site may be reproduced without prior written permission.