Jia: A Novel of North Korea Read Online Free PDF Page A

country was called
North Korea. But it seemed that I was the only one who
couldn't really figure out the meaning of what he said, and
nobody explained it to me. Feeling an ache in my fingers,
I cried out to my sister, "Ouch! You're killing my fingers!
Why are you doing that?"

    My grandfather became animated and nervous, and he
turned to Grandmother and said, "Why haven't you cleared
the table? He is already finished."
    She stood up hastily, grabbing the dishes. "Right, what
am I doing? Dying is what the old do best," she said-a
typical elderly Korean response.
    My sister started to help, but with a serious face Grandfather ordered us to bed. "It's already late. Sleep!" My sister
unfolded a blanket in the corner of the room, hanging her
head, but still stealing glances at the soldier.
    Grandfather said to the stranger, "Let me know when
you want to leave."
    The man replied, with consternation, "I will not hurt
your family. Anyhow, I'm in North Korea now. And I'm not
trying to decamp. I'll go back to the unit-it'll be okay."
    The soldier and my grandparents stayed up all night,
talking. I tried not to sleep, forcing my eyes open wide.
I wanted to hear what they were saying. I sat next to the
stranger, propped up against his knee, but my eyelids grew
heavy, and at length I fell asleep there. I heard him say he
had come to North Korea a year before, on a deep-sea fishing vessel. The ship was fishing close to Chinese waters;
what they ran into was not abundant fish, but an armada
that glittered with a strange light. More than ten Chinese
soldiers boarded his ship. According to them, his ship had
violated international law. All the sailors, including him,
were taken to North Korea that night. There, he and his
comrades were forced to attend ideology classes and military training in the mountains where we lived. During the
maneuvers, he became lost.
    When I opened my eyes again, it was already morning.
The soldier was gone. I was lying next to my grandmother, who was about to leave for the camp. I got up in a flurry
and demanded, "Where is he? Where did he go?"

    "He already left. Your grandfather sent him off. But he
said he'll come back."
    I waited for the soldier for several days, but he didn't
return. He was the first visitor to our house, and his arrival
had stirred a strange excitement in me; his accent was so
new and curious.
    Several days later, at night, he returned. As with his first
visit, we heard a cautious knock at the door. I jumped for
joy at seeing him again, and leaped into his arms. He smiled
broadly.
    He visited our house several times but never could stay
long. It was strictly prohibited for him to be absent without leave. He sneaked out of his guard post and came to see
us, sometimes bringing army food for my sister and me. I
always cried when he left. I wasn't sure whether I would
see him again.
    Whenever he visited us, my grandparents and he always
discussed North Korea and South Korea. It was hard to understand what they were really saying; they spoke in such
soft voices and used words I had never heard before. My
grandfather never showed his feelings on his face, but it
was easy to see how happy the soldier's visits made him.
Grandmother said he was about my father's age and had a
seven-year-old girl, the same age as me, in the South. Perhaps I reminded him of his daughter. He always propped
me on his knee while he was in my house, checking on my
studies. I took to calling him Uncle Shin, a nickname that
indicated an almost familial closeness.
    After several weeks, Uncle Shin said the army was leaving soon. My grandparents just nodded quietly, and we didn't talk about his leaving that night, but the next day I
began asking my grandparents if we could go with him. I
remembered he said he had been in Pyongyang, the capital,
and I whimpered that I wanted to go to the city and live
there. They only patted my head.

    The day before Shin was to leave, my