The Wind Is Blowing

The first order the Korean King Kojong (高宗, 1852-1919, r.1863-1907) gave when he was enthroned at the age of 12 was, “Execute the roasted chestnut peddler in Kahoe-dong (嘉會洞).” When the bewildered courtiers asked why, the king said, “I asked for a chestnut, but he didn’t give me one. What bad behaviour!” In the end, the king gave the peddler a pardon because his royal subjects pleaded with him to be generous to the poor man. Perhaps the king’s love for chestnuts explains how the song Roasted Chestnut Taryong became popular in the Kyonggi Province (京畿道, Kyonggi-do) during Kojong’s reign. The taryong (타령), a narrative song, starts with:

The wind is blowing

The wind is blowing

The strong wind of money is blowing

in the sea off Yonpyong Island

……………………

“The strong wind of money” was blowing from a popular seasonal fish market that had opened on Yonpyong Island (延坪島) at the time. Chong Mun-gi (정문기), the author of A Study of Stone-head Fish of Korea, wrote in 1939 that “hundreds of fishing boats gathered off the coast formed an island of boats and the bonfires reflecting off the surface of the sea water was extremely beautiful.” The “stone-head fish” of the Chong’s study is the croaker (Micropogonias undulatus of the Sciaeniade family), which was popular in the new Yonpyong market. The nickname comes from the fact that croaker has strong bones in its head. At that time, the seasonal fish market had 300 officially registered restaurants, 53 food stalls, one cafe and 95 registered hostesses. In reality, however, there were about 500 unregistered hostesses and it was even said that there were 50 Japanese hostesses. The expression that says one can “make enough money for a year in three days time” originated there.

Micropogonias undulatus

Whether over fishing dried up fish resources or the fish’s migration route was changed due to global warming, I don’t know. But the haul of fish decreased to 1 348 tonnes in 1972 and 36 tonnes in 1976, from 10 000 tonnes in the 1960s. As the catch dwindled, fishermen left the island. When it was driven to the brink of being abandoned, it was saved by a surge in blue crab. These days, competition among fishermen from South Korea, North Korea and China is so high that island residents lament in frustration that there is no more blue crab, just lots of Chinese fishing boats. A new wind is blowing toward the island now, this time a dangerous one perfumed with the smell of gunpowder.

Giorgio Olivotto

Seoul, Korea

April 3, 2011