'Family is what keeps me going'

Ussa Undang, 42, a Thailand-born immigrant, smiles during an interview at her office in Yongsan, Seoul. / Korea Times photo by Lee Kyung-min

By Lee Kyung-min

“Of course I speak Korean fluently. I am Korean,” said Ussa Undang, 42, a Thai immigrant who came here in March 2002, after she met her Korean husband.

The mother of two boys, 12 and 13 years old, said she never thought things would turn out the way they have.

“I never planned to live here in Korea to begin with. Come to think of it, a lot was involved, luck, chance, destiny, and all of that. And you know, one thing led to another, and here I am,” she said with a smile.

Twelve years ago, at the age of 30, she thought she wanted a baby, but not a husband. This seemingly daunting idea was apparently feasible if she acted on it, but telling her parents was the tricky part.

“At the mere mention of the notion, I knew my parents would be up in arms, to say the least. They are traditional, hard-core conservatives. I know they were just being parents, but, regardless of their position, I wanted what I wanted.”

She knew that the best way to make her plan a reality was to pursue it beyond her parents’ reach.

“If the father of my baby were Thai, then I would have no choice but to marry him. My parents would have forced me. So, I decided to go abroad, where my parents would never find the father of my baby,” she said.

She then did some research, to decide who the father of her baby should be. She thought about the sort cultural background and personality that she would like her baby’s father to have.

Among the countries she researched, she eventually put Korea top of her list because she valued the culture of respecting the elders as well as the strong family bonds, for which Korea is famous.

Having decided that a Korean man should be the father, she came here in March 2002, and was introduced to a man through her Thai friend.

Undang said she liked this man because he was shy.

“On first sight, I knew he was someone I could trust. He was very shy, and that was what I liked the most about him,” she said.

At the time she couldn’t speak a word of Korean, but she said she didn’t need to understand the language in order to know that they had a special connection.

Their connection was so strong, that after just four dates she decided to drop her original plan and get married.

But the real challenge had yet to begin.

Being the eldest of seven siblings, her husband had to win the blessing of all her family members, since the eldest son carries a lot of burden and duties in Korea.

The second eldest sibling in the family, her husband’s sister, was the biggest challenge, she said.

“From the beginning, she said no. I know she did so probably because she worried about the unnecessary emotional hardships that my children would have to go through, compared with the scenario that would follow if he married a Korean woman, and other worries about being a subject for gossip might have played some part in her disinclination to take me in,” she said.

“I know it’s because Koreans are much more welcoming to Caucasians than they are to other foreigners. But her worries were justified, and I knew that I would have to work harder to win her trust,” she added.

She said the love and respect she now has from her in-laws was hard-earned.

“We have Jesa, a traditional family gathering in remembrance of the forefathers, seven times a year. You know the stress and duties that come along with it? It’s all mine with me being the eldest daughter-in-law. But, I am happy to do it, because it is for my family. It’s physically demanding, I admit, but just the thought of the whole family having a great meal because of me gives me the energy that I need,“ she said.

Her life as an exemplary “eldest daughter-in-law” has won her approval from her family, but her life is not without the typical challenges that immigrant wives face here.

One day about a decade ago, when her two boys were toddlers, they refused to go to pre-school, or to the playground crying, “other kids are making fun of you saying that you look like an alien. They won’t play with me.”

She felt heartbroken and angry, but she knew that this was the time which would make or break the relationships that their children would have with their peers.

Composing herself for a moment, she went right back to the playground with both of her boys to confront the bullies.

She said to them, “Who was it? You? Or you? Who made fun of me and my boys?”

When the bullies came forward, instead of berating them, she said, “Let’s all go to my house. I’ll make pizza and Teokbokki.”

Spending time together helped the children realize that she was just like any other ajumma, the Korean word for housewives with kids.

She said such incidents occur because children repeat what they hear their parents say.

“Many of the mothers tell their kids not to play with my kids, because I am from Thailand, and I look different from Koreans. But guess what? I am no different. I have two eyes, one nose, and two ears. And I love my children every bit as much as they love theirs. I want my children to be happy just as much as they want theirs to be. What mother wouldn’t get upset, when her children are bullied because of how she looks?”

She said she knows the importance of speaking up, instead of hiding and crying in the corner, especially since she is a mother.

“You should be strong for your children. If I’m dejected by others’ attacking me, all they would do is take the same discouraged attitude, which might lead to them letting themselves be victimized by others. I can never let that happen.”

Having faced similar, typical challenges for 13 years, she said she knows she will be stronger than ever before, but the cold stare from strangers still hurts just the same.

“I’m trying to get used to it, but it hurts every time. I know there’s nothing I can do about how people think. I know it takes time for them to understand that I’m no different than they are. But I’m not giving up.”

Ussa Undang is the founding member of “Talk to Me,” an organization established in March 2010 by the immigrant wives here in Korea. The members are from Thailand, Japan, Mongolia, Russia, and Philippines. They do volunteer work and give lectures about cultural diversity.