Childhood in Mokpo a century ago

Mokpo harbor in the early part of the 20th century / Robert Neff Collection.

By Robert Neff

Situated in the southwestern part of the Korean peninsula, Mokpo (named after its harbor and forests) is not a place often associated with Western communities in early 20th century Korea. However, there were a handful of missionaries and their families who lived and proselytized in this small port.

It is through the youthful eyes of Joseph Barron Hopper that we will examine life at Mokpo a hundred years ago. Although it may seem unconventional, rather than refer to him as Hopper, I am going to use Joe as I feel ― considering he was only a child at the time ― it is more endearing and compliments his recollections.

Joe was born on May 17, 1921 and for the first year of his life was described as being “somewhat of a tyrant at times” who demanded his American missionary parents to “stay awake and take commands from him” and thus depriving them of their Korean language study. He did, however, grow “more lenient in his rule” ― although there may have been some lapses in his leniency when his sister was born in November 1922. In April 1926, a younger brother was added to his almost non-existent circle of playmates.

Mokpo city and its port circa 1920-1930 / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

Life at the southern port was difficult and often lonely but always busy. He lived in a stoutly made house of cut stone but lacked the amenities missionaries in some of the larger cities enjoyed. His home had no electricity ― using oil and coal for light and heat ― and the water had to be pumped from a cistern in the basement to fill another tank on the second floor porch for bathroom use.

Food was also another problem. Most of their Western goods had to be ordered once or twice a year from the shops in Chemulpo (modern Incheon) or Seoul that catered to foreigners. Arguably, the most popular was Steward & Co. The selection of merchandise was surprisingly good but it came with a price ― a price that many missionaries could not comfortably afford.

A boy and his chicken circa 1900s / Robert Neff Collection

Unfortunately, I do not have a list of items and their prices sold by the foreign shops in the 1920s but I do from 1910. A quick sampling reveals that good Siberian butter sold for about 35 cents a pound, salted salmon went for six cents a pound. A can of unsweetened condensed milk could be obtained for 12 and a half cents. Sugar was six cents a pound. Cookies and biscuits were sold in one or two pound tins and ranged in price from 50 cents to a little over a dollar. I suspect Joe’s family did not purchase many baked goods. A dozen bottles of soda, carbonated water or lemonade cost between 50 cents and a dollar and a quarter ― the bottles were expected to be returned (if not, there was an additional fee).

I do not know the family’s income during the 1920s and early 1930s (especially during the depression) but I doubt they splurged very often on foreign-store-bought-goods. Instead, they depended on what they could grow or make themselves.

The family had a large garden where Joe’s mother enjoyed growing vegetables and fruit. The garden was, as her son later recalled, partly a necessity for daily life and his mother’s passion ― an enjoyment that she expected her children to share. Naturally, the weeding, hoeing and watering was often delegated to the children. In addition to the garden, there were chickens and rabbits that had to be fed and their cages cleaned ― once again, these were the responsibilities of the children.

Judging from Joe’s memoirs, the family had more than enough eggs and chickens. Joe’s father often received his honoraria in the form of live chickens and strings of eggs. Korean strings of eggs were often a subject of letters home by Americans in Korea as were they in Joe’s recollections.

“It was a Korean custom to string ten eggs together by placing them end to end lengthwise in a small bundle of rice straw and then tying a piece of straw between each egg. This meant the ten eggs were completely encased in straw and the whole was quite rigid and protected from breakage. Stack of several dozen strings were often carried to market, or tied on the back of a bicycle.”

The family also raised one or two cows that provided milk, cream and butter ― luxuries that were not easily (and cheaply) obtained away from the larger cities.

What they didn’t grow in there garden could be found in the market. There was fresh seafood, pork, beef, chicken, vegetables and various fruits including pears, peaches, tangerines, persimmons, apples, melons of various types, and ― according to Joe ― bananas.

I was a little surprised to see bananas on his list as I always thought of them being a luxury item up until quite recently. A quick scan on the internet reveals that in 2017 bananas were the most popular imported fruit in South Korea. Perhaps even more surprising, there are about 40 banana farms in the country (2020).

There were some items that families were willing to pay an exorbitant cost ― especially during the holidays. Many years later, when he wrote his memoirs, Joe recalled:

“Christmas was always a special time. My earliest memory of Christmas is standing shivering at the window at 4:00 A.M. hold a candle (there was no electricity) while listening as Korean choirs from the local church or mission institutions sang their favorite carol below the window: ‘Joy to the world, the Lord is come!'”

The anecdote above sounds much like one would expect from an elderly church minister but the one that follows seems more appropriate for our young Joe.

“Like all American children we were highly excited over the prospect of the visit of Santa Claus and stockings filled with goodies and could hardly wait for Christmas morning. By comparison with the mountains of gift children receive these days, ours were quite meager, but I daresay gave us every bit as much pleasure. There would be a few toys and new clothes sent from America, a few cheap things from Japanese toy shops, and much fruit, nuts, and candy obtainable locally.”

Strings of eggs in the 1900s / Robert Neff Collection

For many ― if not most ― Americans, turkey is an essential part of the Thanksgiving (and to a lesser degree, Christmas) dinner but the grand old bird was almost non-existent in Korea. In 1892, an American teacher in Seoul wrote: “There are no turkeys in the country but occasionally an enterprising foreigner secures one from China in order to grace a Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner-table.” However, an 1899 article from The Independent (an English-Korean language newspaper published in Seoul) seems to indicate that one enterprising American recognized the deficiency and decided to capitalize on it:

“An American resident at [Gunsan] has a flock of twenty-two fine [turkeys], which he has raised from two hens and a gobbler which were brought from Japan some months ago. If the weasels cats, dogs, hawks, etc., can be kept at a distance, it is evident that these toothsome birds, may be raised in Korea for the adornment of our Christmas tables.”

Apparently the weasels, cats, dogs and hawks won because turkeys were rarely mentioned in the letters home or in the regional newspapers. Joe’s mother, however, was a determined woman:

“There was one time she managed to get a scrawny one and told our man [the outside servant] to fatten it up for a few weeks, not specifying what kind of feed to use. The lordly bird was duly cooked, placed on the dinner table, carved, and served in the presence of invited guests. Imagine her dismay and disgust when the first bite indicated that it had been fed small fish, and had such a fishy taste it could not be eaten at all!”

Obviously I have no way of verifying this anecdote but I think Joe might have been exaggerating this fishy turkey tale. I also suspect that Santa didn’t come very often and when he did come, it wasn’t with toys and candies but with lumps of coal for Joe could be a mischievous little imp, as we shall see tomorrow.

Childhood in Mokpo a century ago
Source: Buhay Kapa PH