By Sr. Minerva Dangaran, ssc

Sr. Minerva Dangaran and Fr. Al Utzig have started a rural missionary community in Korea. They live like the farmers who till the land for their living. Here Sr. Minerva tells us about her first and last day in Potato field.

Our village has a work leader. We call him the Taejang. This leader organizes the women, goes around to pass the news for available work, negotiates with the field owner and receives money for the laborers.

Older Women

At the beginning it wasn’t easy working in the fields. I didn’t have to be rough and coarse but I needed to be able to take the roughness as a reality in the field to survive. Most of the women working in the field are in their 50’s to 70’s. The older women are quicker than us. (Sr. Monica, Sr. Kay and I). How ever these women do not qualify for factory work. It might seem strange to see older women in the field but social security for mothers depends on the first son. If he is not economically stable and cannot or will not support his parents, the mother tries to earn money. The available work for aging women is usually the low paying jobs and the agricultural labor jobs.

Courage in Women

Maybe some people seeing old, wrinkled, or emotionally broken women, bent and overworked in the fields world find this scandalous. But there are blessings to having company. These are also independent women, not only physically strong but survivors of many personal tragedies in life. They have ears to listen to the pains unveiled at times when they have time to be relaxed together.

Don’t like Planting Potatoes

I don’t work with the women everyday but I have worked with them many times I planted red peppers, cabbages and harvested peanuts and ginseng with them. The work that I don’t like doing is planting and harvesting sweet potatoes. I always refuse every time the Taejang asks. However, one day I wasn’t able to escape from it. That night she came and explained we would be working in an apple orchard. Kay Suk didn’t have time. Sr. Monica was working in the old folks home at that time. I went along with the women. One the way to the field, the Taejang told me that we were not going to the orchard, we were going to plant sweet potatoes. I didn’t want to proceed.

Chaos and Confusion

We didn’t start the day very well. We lost our way. There was miscommunication with the driver and the owner. We were brought to another field instead. At 8:00 in the morning we hadn’t found the field yet. The owner was waiting for us but we didn’t see him. Finally, after a long search, and so many telephone calls, the driver found the field. The owner was already angry. The tractor was waiting for us, too. We were late. There was a lot of shouting and instructing. The woman knew what to do. They put their bags in the shade, ran to the sweet potato boxes, put them on their heads and run to the prepared part of the field. Our Taejang also did the same shouting and instructing. The movements and instructions were chaotic. The women planted and the owner shouted again and they transferred to another direction.

Humiliation

I paused for a moment to see what’s going on. I observed that the way they planted was totally different from what I knew. I didn’t put the box on my head, I carried the box in my arms. The owner shouted at me. He said, “This married woman is strange.” When the Taejang explained to me how to plant the potato tops, everyone began to notice me. Unluckily the owner kept on saying on I was strange. Then he instructed me differently than the Taejang had. By then everyone was observing me. I Said to myself, “If I can endure these eyes for an hour I will survive.” One woman could not endure the way I planted. She told the Taejang that I didn’t know to plant. The many women were at me. I was getting angry. Finally I told the owner I was going back that I could not plant. I ran to my lunch bag and headed for the highway. Then Taejang shouting at me to come back but I ran faster, I couldn’t stay a moment longer.

Home at Last

Sr Minerva with her Columban 'family'

When I reach the highway, I tried to stop the passing cars. It took me sometime before a car stopped. The old man asked me where I was going. When I got in I stared crying, the man asked me where I came from. I answered that I came from the Philippines. Then he sighed and said, “A foreign worker!” He slowed down the car and explained to me how to get back to our town. I was two towns away, almost at the border of another province. The old man took me to the bus stop. I got the bus right away. Everyone in the bus was so kind. The driver told me to go to another town. It was market day and I met some neighbors who asked me why I was early. I said that I ran away from the field. Five minutes later, I took the third bus, this time to our village. I was relieved.

From the bus I went straight to our field. Father Al and Sister Kay Suk were weeding the fields, preparing for planting. I told them my story. Sr. Kay said, “Now you can understand why I can’t go back go back to the sweet potato field? the owner is always at you, telling you to hurry.”

I was lucky I had enough travel money. After lunch I remembered the women I left behind. Some of them I remembered working with me in other fields. I realized their responses to the owner’s shouts and commands were either silence or a curse. I could leave the field, those women could not. It’s their life. I am free to leave the field – I am a foreigner.

These are the women whom Korea should mourn when they go to their eternal rest. These are the keepers of the nation. They are women who feed the whole nation. These women hold the wisdom of old, their knowledge of seasons and planting will be buried with them. Without them the nation would not have the vegetables planted nor harvested. Without hem there would be no precious fruits or flowers in the market stalls. Without them Korea would be less.