The following story took place in Korea in 1967. It was my first Christmas without family and friends, and I really felt that loss. Here’s my story of how a few Korean friends helped make that Christmas one to remember . . .
I’ve talked a great deal over the years about my experiences while serving in the Army. As with any young man or woman serving outside of this country, being away from home and family during the Christmas season for the first time is difficult. In my case I was not only away from family, but I was also in a non-Christian country that seemed to be more than a little primitive to me.
Their religion was primarily Buddhist, and the Christmas holiday meant very little to them. They at times pretended to understand but that was motivated entirely by their desire to make money from visiting Americans.
At the time I was stationed in an area that was primarily populated by rice farmers living in small villages that dotted the northern countryside. There were no paved roads and most villages only had electric power for a few hours a day. For those of us from the United States it was like traveling back in time a hundred years.
I was living almost full time in a local village and actually had my laundry taken by a local woman to a nearby river where it was beaten on the rocks with wooden paddles and soap. That certainly took some getting used to for me. My Korean friends seemed totally befuddled by the entire Christmas holiday bro-ha-ha and sat politely and silently as I tried to explain it to them. They were interested in my stories of Christ and the Magi, but the virgin birth story had them all giggling a little.
Regardless I was determined to have a Christmas celebration so I asked a few of my them for their help in putting up a Christmas tree. They agreed to help but weren’t exactly sure what I was up to. As that project was progressing I had a little old mama-san ask me through an interpreter why would any sane person put a tree inside their home. I was hard pressed to answer her because I didn’t know the reason either. They continued to humor me as I explained other peculiarities that they couldn’t quite grasp.
A week or so later with two Korean friends I hiked up a nearby mountain near a small Buddhist temple to find a tree. We ended up dragging back the sorriest looking bush you could ever imagine, set it up in my hooch, and started to decorate it as best we could. There was a hand-made star on top of the tree (my doing) and a number of pieces of charcoal tied to the branches with twine (their doing). I never had that fully explained to me, but it was what they wanted to do. It had something to do with good luck or good pregnancy or something. Since we had no electricity, they suggested placing candles in and around the tree, but I nixed that idea immediately. The last thing I needed was to burn down my hooch and a portion of the village when my little, dry, and nasty looking tree, burst into flames.
I had some GI decorations I made from C-rations that looked stupid as hell, but the villagers loved it. Later we ate most of the decorations and drank a bottle of really cheap brandy that I’d brought along for the occasion. I presented them each with a small gift of candy and got a little kiss on the cheek from everyone.
It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t sophisticated, but it was heartfelt. Looking back over the years it remains one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had. It also helped endear me to the villagers and them to me. The following Christmas they even arrived with a strange collection of ornaments for my tree and couldn’t wait to once again hear my holiday stories.
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