Jews have wandered the world as pariahs for more than two millenniums through an unending series of persecutions, expulsions, exiles, ghettos, pogroms and new departures for safe refuge. But, for the most part, Jews in America have achieved the normal lives they had yearned for — a great ending to the original Diaspora.

Now, the haunting song of “Arirang” we hear from the island of Cuba may be just the beginning of our century-old Diaspora stretching far beyond Siberia, Manchuria, China, America, Mexico, Cuba, Japan and Central Asia to Europe, South America, Africa and Australia.

In the past decade alone, an estimated half million North Koreans have fled Kim Jong-il’s post-Stalin gulag for food, life and family in China, Russia and neighboring countries, and the bulk of the female refugees are feared to be leading the lives of sex slaves, while the world remains indifferent.

It has been said so often that the wretched people of han (embedded grievance and sorrow) has run out of tears.

Destiny, however, has willed a pair of New York-based Korean filmmakers to unearth the untold story of the ultimate han through a third-generation descendant of the forgotten tribe of former Korean slaves in Cuba.

I find myself fighting tears over the everlasting soul of Korea as I watch Martha Lim Kim, an ardent Cuban revolutionary, recall her 1996 journey to her patriot father’s homeland.

“That trip to Korea was a true gift from God because I had never dared to dream that I could visit Korea, but I was very sad because I was thinking that my father should have been in my place. I cried a lot, not just for my father but for all the older Koreans who had dreamed of returning but never could.

“At the opening ceremony (for visiting overseas Korean delegations), when I heard the first chords of the national anthem, I instantly felt in my heart and mind the way I used to feel when I was a little girl.

“Then they played ‘Arirang’ which is a song all of us heard growing up, almost every day, as our mother went about her cooking and cleaning chores singing it to herself. I could do nothing else but just cry. I thought about my mother and my father.”

 

THESE ARE THE LIFE STORIES OF DESCENDANTS OF KOREAN PIONEERS IN CUBA IN THEIR OWN WORDS AS TOLD TO FILMMAKER DAI SIL KIM-GIBSON AND TRANSLATOR AIYOUNG CHOI:

 

Please tell me about you, your parents and other family background.

Martha Lim Kim: I am Cuban by birth, educated here and I’m married to Raul R. Ruiz, a writer whose work is greatly appreciated and respected. But my roots are in Korea. My Korean name is Im Eunhee.

My father was one of the leaders of the Korean community. His name was Im Chom Tek. His Spanish name was Ernesto Lim. He was one of the principal leaders in preserving our identity and culture. My father’s deep influence made us feel very connected to our homeland. So I can say that I am a Cuban with Korean roots.