written by gkim
Strolling in Seoul, Korea as a foreigner, at night, atop higher grounds, I can see huge red crosses illuminating from the steeples of churches amongst a thriving glittery city. Just twenty years ago, I was only eleven years old, and it was such a different view and different way of life here. It amazes me how much has changed as far as the increased visibility of churches, corporations, and foreign businesses but at the same time an increased visibility of sex establishments all in the short span of two decades. In retrospect, after having seen with my own eyes, what we do to our own women and men in the sex industry, it seems like so many Koreans are living under the pretense that there are no whorehouses and “room salons” on every other corner in this city, no massage parlors with happy endings in every alley, no corporations frolicking in taboo establishments after every dinner meeting, no Korean deportees getting their built-up sexual tensions relieved as soon as they land at Incheon, no love motels that cover up married men’s license plates for them as they swing by for quickies, no married-rich-bored women getting their fair share of the sex industry through young money-hungry, abused gigolos, no vacationers, soldiers, and tourists paying to get their fetishes satisfied at least once, no government officials who are paid off to keep quiet, no media outlets that write cover-up stories, no sexual slaves who are desperately seeking for a way out, and last but not least, that there is no sex-trafficking happening into every single vicinity of Korean populations in America? It saddens me as I see what goes on in the alleys of all these beautiful red crosses strewn across the skyline of my mother country–beautiful Korea–which God loves so much. It is atrocious at home in America, in my Korean community, to be able to recognize the sound of the perverse night as it flourishes behind the law and morality of God. When I’m here, I’m there, and when I’m there, I’m here.