FRIENDS OF KOREA Reunited after more than 30 years

Peace Corps Volunteer Christy Gavitt, lower left, and students from Onyang Middle School pose with an elderly man during a picnic in Onyang, South Chungcheong Province, 1974. Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

I was sluggishly adapting to my first winter in Onyang, a town in South Chungcheong Province.

I arrived in Korea in summer 1974 as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). After an intensive three-month training in Korean language, culture and English teaching methodology in Cheongju, North Chungcheong Province, I headed west to Onyang, where I would live for the next two years.

For the first six months, I rented a room in a family’s house. The arrival of winter was a shock: I hadn’t experienced a Manchurian cold front before, and my room’s only heating sources were charcoal cylinders that burned in flues under the flooring.

While teaching many English classes at a boys’ middle school, I organized a “special English class,” selecting four of the brightest students. Twice a week, at 6:30 a.m., I’d pile on layers of clothing to limit my exposure to the freezing temperatures, fold my mattress and spread out my blankets so my students and I could plunge our legs into the warm refuge. I could then welcome them to my room and begin our 60-minute lesson, which usually took the form of open conversation.

Peace Corps Volunteer Christy Gavitt teaches a practice class during training at a school in Cheonan, South Chungcheong Province, summer 1974. Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

One morning, I decided to record the morning’s session on my reel-to-reel tape recorder (anyone remember those?) to send to my parents.

At one point during the lesson, I asked the names of their various family members and close relatives. After they covered the gamut of their respective family trees, they turned the tables on me:

Student 1: What is your father’s name?

Me: My father’s name is Severance.

…followed by a very pregnant pause.

Student 2: I do not understand. Please again say what is your father’s name.

Me: I said that my father’s name is Severance.

After another pause and a bit of whispering among them…

Student 3: Strange name!

Students 1 and 2 (simultaneously, and with low, eerie voices): Strange name!

They were right; my father’s name certainly wasn’t a typical American John or Tom.

Yet another pause. Student 4, who hadn’t joined in the “strange name” medley, suddenly said, with great confidence:

Student 4: Brave name!

After a brief discussion regarding the meaning of “brave,” they all chortled back, “Yes, it is a brave name!”

We all laughed with some relief, my father’s name having recovered its respected standing.

Student 4’s on-the-fly tactful (dare I say “brave”?) response left a strong impression on me. He quietly, but decisively, expressed an opinion that opposed that of his classmates. Perhaps he also intuited the importance of showing respect for an elder’s name.

Sang-bae as a student in Onyang, South Chungcheong Province, 1974 / Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

Although he was a second-year student and I taught first year, I saw him often as he was the class leader. He appeared frequently in the teachers’ room, passing or delivering messages, bowing deeply as he entered and bowing again as he departed. And, of course, he continued to consistently show up for the special English class in my room.

He moved on to a high school in Daejeon during my second year, and I lost touch with him. But I remember his name: Sang-bae.

When I returned home after my Peace Corps assignment, I sometimes listened to the tape recording of that memorable English class together with my parents. My father enjoyed listening to it as much as I did, as he had always loathed his name (he asked people to call him “Sev,” thus avoiding the need to expound on the origin of “Severance”). He would declare that he actually agreed with students 1, 2 and 3’s “strange name” assessment — He did not consider Severance a “brave name.”

Peace Corps Volunteer Christy Gavitt posts with her second host family in Asan, South Chungcheong Province, 1975. Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

After completing graduate school in 1978, I worked overseas for the next 30 years in emergency relief and development projects for various nongovernmental organizations, mostly in East Africa. During my time overseas, I returned to Korea several times to reconnect with friends, see my Korean family in Onyang and travel to places that I never explored while I was a PCV because of my lack of time or funds. I still thought of Sang-bae every time I returned to Korea, but had no idea how to initiate the search for him — I was not yet knowledgeable of Google Search capabilities. I had forgotten the names of so many people I met during those two years (although I certainly remembered the warm relationships formed). Yet, Sang-bae’s name remained fixed in my memory.

In 2006, I returned to the U.S. and worked in the international division of the American Red Cross headquarters in Washington. Two years later, the Korea Foundation and the U.S.-based Friends of Korea organized the first Revisit Korea program, inviting PCVs back to Korea during a weeklong period. The program activities were rich and varied: visits to attractions in Seoul, briefings at the Ministry of Education or Ministry of Health and Welfare (depending on the individual’s Peace Corps assignment), meals with various government officials and many other rewarding activities.

The real highlight of the Revisit, however, was when each volunteer returned to the town where they had worked so many years before. A driver and translator (as many volunteers had forgotten most of their Korean) accompanied them to their Peace Corps service site for a two-day visit. There, the volunteers reconnected with their former colleagues at the middle school, university or health center where they had worked. Most participants had not returned to Korea since the end of their service, so they were usually astounded at the significant changes that had taken place in the intervening 30 to 40 years. The Revisit program has continued on an annual basis since 2008, and an estimated 450 PCVs have traveled to Korea through this program.

Peace Corps Volunteer Christy Gavitt poses with Buddhist nuns at a hermitage near Onyang, South Chungcheong Province, 1975. Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

I signed up for the autumn 2009 Revisit. One of the questions on my application was to fill in the names of people I wanted to see during my site visit. One of the names I mentioned was Sang-bae, convinced that locating him would be a long shot. But I held a scintilla of optimism that, somehow, the organizers might track him down.

I hadn’t heard from the organizers when I left for Seoul, so I concluded that the search was unsuccessful.

During the first three days of the Revisit, the other PCVs and I had a fast-paced, stimulating stay in Seoul before we left for our respective service sites. As I arrived in Onyang, I was relieved that I was with my two escorts as I barely recognized the town — so many of the familiar landmarks were gone. Onyang had been renamed Asan, as it had definitely outgrown its "eup" (administrative division akin to a town) designation!

The next day, we drove to the modern iteration of Onyang Middle School: the vintage 1930s, all-wooden building where I taught 34 years before had been torn down. I got out of the car and saw one middle-aged and two older men waiting for me in front of the school, holding bouquets of flowers. I was able to identify my co-teacher, as well as another English teacher who I occasionally taught with. But I was stunned when I saw… Sang-bae! I instantly recognized him — even in his middle school days, his relatively tall height stood out. Tears came out of my eyes, as I was overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment.

Christy Gavitt, third from left, reunites with two former co-teachers and her former student Sang-bae at Onyang Elementary School during the 2009 Revisit Korea program for Peace Corps Volunteers. Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

Over the next couple of days, I caught up with my co-teacher and the family I had lived with in Onyang. But there was something that clicked when Sang-bae and I met during the two-day visit. He had an infectious sense of humor, and emanated the sense of dynamism that I had detected so many years before. I instinctively knew that we would continue to meet whenever we could cross paths.

Indeed, that’s exactly what’s happened since that reunion 16 years ago. My work-related travels sometimes took me to Vietnam and Indonesia, so I was able to transit through Seoul on some of the trips. This gave me the opportunity to get together with Sang-bae, his wife and two grown children for meals and long walks.

Christy Gavitt, center, shows Korean friends, including former student Sang-bae, around the historic Korean Legation building in Washington, D.C., September 2023. Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

I was finally able to host Sang-bae and his delightful wife at my home in Washington in October 2023. We visited the sights that D.C. residents tend to see only when we host out-of-town friends: the Capitol, Mount Vernon, the Korean Legation and other venues, coupled with Korean cuisine, laughs and endless coffee.

I was back in Seoul a mere two weeks later for a long-planned trip. We continued the conversation string, as it was still fresh in our memory. More delicious meals, fascinating discussions and lots of Paris Baguette coffee, plus a day-long hike to Mount Bukhan in northern Seoul. Three-quarters of the way up, his wife and I decided to sit on a rock and continue chatting. Not surprisingly, Sang-bae continued trudging along the challenging path to the top, taking lots of selfies at the peak to document his success for his sedentary companions.

Christy Gavitt, middle, poses for a selfie with her former student Sang-bae, right, and his wife during a hike on northern Seoul's Mount Bukhan, October 2023. Courtesy of Christy Gavitt

One student, one teacher, meeting again after 34 years — and continuing to connect more than 50 years after those special English classes in my freezing room in Onyang, where that student proclaimed that my father had a “brave name.”

Christy Gavitt was a Peace Corps/Korea volunteer (K-32) assigned to Onyang Boys’ Middle School in Onyang (now Asan), South Chungcheong Province, where she taught English from September 1974 until June 1975. She returned to Korea as a water and sanitation education evaluator with CARE in 1978-79, and then managed emergency and development projects in 13 countries for over 30 years. Christy is currently a global health consultant.