What would ‘Sacred Couple of Seashore’ be thinking?

“This happened in the 1960s when even speaking Japanese could cause someone to throw a liquor bottle due to anger. A funeral of an ethnic Japanese wife was organized in 1968 by citizens in Mokpo city of South Jeolla Province. Born in Kochi, Japan, the woman came to Korea as a single woman, and raised some 3,000 orphans in coastal areas of Mokpo. All citizens of Mokpo paid deepest respect for the death of the lady.”

This is the first paragraph of the invitation to a “gathering (hosted by Surim Culture Foundation) to be held in Seoul on Wednesday next week. The title of the gathering is the “Sacred Woman of Seashore: Korea and Japan Reviewed in the 101st anniversary of Yoon Hak-ja’s birth.” Next Thursday marks her birthday and 45th anniversary of her death.

Her Korean name was Yoon Hak-ja, and Japanese name was Jizko Dauchi. She was nicknamed the “Mother of Orphans.” It all started when Yoon Chi-ho, a young protestant pastor, brought home seven children who were starving and freezing under a bridge in Mokpo. Back in 1928, the orphanage “Gongsaengwon” was established, and Jizko, then a music teacher at a girls’ school, conducted volunteer service at the orphanage. Yoon and Jizko married 10 years later.

When Korea was liberated from Japan’s colonial rule in 1945, Jizko remained in Mokpo with her husband. She was persecuted just because she was a Japanese. People who countered and protected her were children living at Gongsaengwon and those who graduated from the orphanage. They protected her despite threat, saying, “Though she is a Japanese, she is also our precious mother.” They all must have truly loved the mother, who hugged them with deep love.

Gongsaengwon suffered damage soon after during the Korean War. The most tragic was that her husband, who went to Gwangju City to ask for food, went missing amid war. She remained in Mokpo and took care of Gongsaengwon nonetheless. Orphans who were housed at Gongsangwon reportedly increased to 500. Clad in skirt and jacket, she would pull wagon, begging for help, and gave sincere care to children, which in turn touched the heart of Mokpo citizens. On the day of her funeral, newspapers reported, “Entire Mokpo mourned.”

Since not a few Koreans already know the name Yoon Hak-ja, it would not be necessary for me to introduce her, but not many Japanese would know Jizko Dauchi. There was a movie about her life, which was produced jointly by Korea and Japan, but I had no chance to watch. While investigating stories about her, I was proud to know that there was such a Japanese person but I also felt ashamed of me when reflecting upon myself.

The people who first thought about forming this gathering are not Japanese. They are Koreans who worried about the Korea-Japan ties, which are experiencing high waves, agonized how the two countries will overcome national border and gap in historical views, and wondered if now is time to remember the “Sacred Woman at Seashore” and learn her humanity.

The 10 people are societal leaders including former National Assembly Speaker Kim Soo-han, former Foreign Affairs Minister Gong Ro-myung, and former Korean Ambassador to Japan Na Jong-il. It is my honor to be a member of this gathering. Excluding me, all other members are Koreans. At a time when even speaking the word Japan itself earns criticism and attacks, this may be my self-reflection and atonement to overcome such narrow-mindedness. Otherwise, these days when “brave (Japanese) media outlets” that urge the Japanese people to regain their lost pride are noticeable, I may be asking myself what Japan rather should be proud of is that the country had a person like Jizko once in the past.

As a Japanese, now I cannot help but thinking about her husband. At that time, a Japanese woman took care of orphans in Mokpo, and even considered it her own destiny. This miraculous thing happened as she witnessed passion and great love of humanity in her husband Yoon Chi-ho on his side. How many Koreans would have devoted to and sacrificed for such noble cause and activities of Yoon. He truly deserves the name the “Sacred Man of Seashore.”

How serious regret he would have felt when he died, while trying to find foods for orphans amid war, and even a civil war between his own people. In deep recognition of his mind, Yoon Hak-ja also renewed her commitment and sacrificed herself. What Korea should be proud of is that Korea also had a Korean like him in the past.

It is laudable for someone who loves his or her own country and people. However, Korea and Japan seem to be lacking the consideration of the other’s position because they love themselves too much. What would these “Sacred Couple of Seashore,” who displayed great humanity despite hardships, be doing in heaven at this moment?