Childhood in Mokpo a century ago: Part 2

Ships in Mokpo Harbor circa 1910-1920s / Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

• Published Dec 19, 2021 10:48 AM KST
• Updated Dec 19, 2021 4:20 PM KST

By Robert Neff

When Gertrude Margaret Bell, a 35-year-old English writer, traveler and archaeologist, visited Mokpo for an hour in May 1903, she was not impressed. In a letter, Bell explained that Leonard Hopkins (commissioner of customs at the port) and his Japanese wife, guided her “around to see the sights which are nonexistent” and that “main part of 'the City,' like all these Korean coast places, is Japanese.” She basically denounced Mokpo as “a place so small that it can scarcely be called a place at all.”

However, for Joseph Hopper, a young American boy born in Korea two decades after Bell's visit, Mokpo was home and a place of great adventure ― especially when he went to the market:

“From our home, walking into town was often through what Father nicknamed 'Pig alley,' a narrow, muddy, smelly, and crowded thoroughfare. This led into the city market, a large roofed area full of little stalls where merchants sold everything imaginable in the way of food, clothing, hardware, and household goods. It was always full of people so that one had to push his way through. Bicyclers raced along the narrow aisles at breakneck speeds, and men pulling little handcarts loudly demanded that everyone make way. Often these carts were actually mobile stores which assumed stationary positions right in the middle of the aisles between fixed places of business, and further complicated movement by the masses.”

These markets were a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds and smells. Joe was the most intrigued by the market's “pungent smells which ranged from the nauseating to the titillating.” The sounds of vendors hawking their wares and haggling with their customers over the price and quality was deafening, at times, especially during the holidays or at the height of the five-day-market. Haggling was an art that many Westerners did not seem to possess ― at least the adults ― but apparently the children could not be cowed by the pushy merchants and for this reason they were often sent by themselves to make small purchases at a reasonable price.

While downtown, the children also enjoyed going to the docks. In the mid-1920s, Mokpo had a population of about 25,000 people (6,700 were Japanese) and its primary exports were raw cotton and marine products.

“Scores of fishing boats were tied up to the waterfront along which ran a street with stores selling boating and fishing supplies on the inland side. Naturally there was a strong smell of fish and salt and humanity and the peculiar indescribable odor of the boats themselves.”

The people along the docks were, according to Joe, “more than rowdy and rough and in a hurry” than other parts of the peninsula. Of course they were not the only rough lot to frequent the port.

“Very rarely an American freighter pulled in [to the harbor] and her crew would come ashore and demonstrate behavior shocking to the populace whose only other knowledge of American ways came from missionaries.”

It seems somewhat odd that these perceptions of Mokpo's residents were still in vogue several decades later. When I first arrived in Korea, my friends from Gangwondo always disparaged the people of Mokpo by claiming they were always fighting and dangerous like gangsters.

When Joe wasn't doing gardening and running errands he was at home studying ― his mother served as his teacher using course material sent from the United States. She taught him and his siblings well but she was strict.

Like many students, lunch break was probably their favorite part of the school day and they always knew when it noon.

“A cannon mounted on the lower part of [Yudal Mountain] would be fired with a loud boom. Where it came from and who loaded it and fired it I do not know, but it was always an object of curiosity when we took walks to see it. At noon and when the workday began and closed, a siren wailed at the rubber-shoe factory just below our mission property. Korean men, women, and children wore canoe-shaped rubber shoes which were cheap and excellent protection when it rained or was muddy.”

The shoes may have provided their feet with protection but the factory was apparently unprotected and one day caught fire. Before the Japanese fire department would put out the fire, a “shamanistic ceremony to drive away the evil spirits” was held.

Yudal Mountain was one of Joe's favorite spots to hike as he enjoyed visiting the large Buddhist temple and looking at the “weird carvings of various demons and deities on the vertical rocks surfaces of the mountain.”

He was fairly lucky as the forests surround Mokpo in the 1910s and 1920s were ruled ― especially at night ― by the feline monarchs known as tigers. You can read about some of these tigers

here

.

However, it is time to return to Joe's education. At one point, his father decided that he and another boy from the mission should attend a Korean school so that they could learn to read and write Korean. The boys were not pleased and made their displeasure well known to their Korean teacher and classmates:

“In the Korean classroom, we were as naughty as we could be … throwing spitballs, making noise, and otherwise creating a disturbance. Since our fellow students would never dream of doing such a thing in the presence of a respected teacher, I am sure all were horrified.”

The respected teacher ― Mr. Chu ― was also in an awkward position as he could not punish the two American boys for fear of offending their parents nor could he allow them to be so disrespectful in his class. In the end he managed to indirectly get word to Joe's father and then expelled the boys from school. One can imagine the expulsion was not the worst part of the incident as Joe's parents were firm believers in corporal punishment.

“There was a tall poplar tree in our front yard and it produced a natural source of switches. Sometimes when it was deemed that I deserved such punishment, I was dispatched to that tree to bring in a switch. More than once I can recall bending it a bit more than necessary in breaking it off, so that after a couple of lashes it would go limp in the hands of my parent and naturally not hurt nearly so badly. I was even not above showing brotherly love by performing a similar act of mercy when ordered to get a switch when one of my siblings was to be punished.”

When the children did have free time they played with their toys and board games sent by loving grandparents, uncles and aunts livings in the United States or played outside with the other missionary children ― often there were no other missionary children so the siblings were forced to entertain themselves.

They also enjoyed riding on Princess, a little brown pony that their parents purchased for 25 yen (about $12.50), including the saddle and other riding gear. Joe described the pony as being Mongolian ― “the type used by Koreans to pull their carts” ― but, from the description of its disposition, seems to have been more like one of the notorious little Korean ponies so often mentioned by Western visitors in the late 19th century.

As Joe recalled, Princess was as stubborn and “ornery as any mule … [and] … seemed to grow more obstinate as she grew older. She also resented having a burden on her back, and had the bad habit of rubbing up against a barbed wire fence running alongside the road and skinning” their legs.

Years later, Joe described Mokpo as “nothing more than an oversized fishing village” and although it lacked many things it was rich in family values. “We never felt deprived, neglected or abused,” he wrote and then added that he and his siblings were well educated and had successful careers. The credit went to his loving parents who, despite the adverse conditions, provided their children with a happy home and sound advice.

For Joe, Mokpo was a great start on the road to manhood.

Note ― much of this information comes from Joe's 600 pages of memoirs that, after his passing, his wife and family managed to trim down and publish in a book of about 300 pages (I wish I could read what they cut). It is a delightful book filled with amusing anecdotes and is a testimony of “thirty-eight years below the thirty-eighth” parallel (with a few years above it, too).

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books including, Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.