How We Started the Saemaul Movement in South America (2)

The bus that had left Libertad International Airport had been kicking up clouds of pale dust along the unpaved road for four hours now.

Thud! Thump!

By the time his tailbone was throbbing, Kim Heung-soo, head of the Korean Agricultural Advisory Delegation, stared out the window and grumbled.

"Ugh, this is far. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠How much farther do we even have to go?"

"According to Google Maps, we just need to get over this ridge."

Kim Heung-soo clicked his tongue at Manager Park's explanation from the passenger seat.

The agricultural advisory team was headed for a village called Santa Maria, four hours from the capital.

What the hell are we supposed to do in a backwater like that...

The goal was to teach tobacco farming to prospective agricultural leaders gathered from every region, and in doing so raise rural incomes. But Kim Heung-soo, the delegation chief, was not feeling particularly hopeful. It wasn't a lack of ability or passion on his part. It was just that tobacco farming was that difficult.

Tobacco ranked among the most demanding crops in all of agriculture. From seed germination to raising seedlings, transplanting, topping, harvesting, and drying — there wasn't a single stage that didn't require human hands. Slack off even a little and the crop lost all commercial value. No wonder foreign workers who came looking to make money ended up running away.

Aigoo. They should've just learned rice farming.

Kim Heung-soo was shaking his head at the thought when Manager Park jabbed a finger at the window and shouted.

"Huh? Chief! Look over there!"

As they rounded the mountain bend, Kim Heung-soo's eyes went wide.

"What?"

Santa Maria, selected as the training ground for the Saemaul Movement, looked nothing like what he had imagined. He had pictured some remote African-style village, but what greeted him instead were tents lined up in perfect rows along the hillside, as orderly as a military barracks.

What made him doubt his own eyes, though, was the flagpole in front of the village hall.

Flutter — flutter —!

Flying right beside the San Marcos national flag was a green banner that no Korean could fail to recognize: the flag of the Saemaul Movement. And beneath it, the Movement's three founding principles rippled in the wind, written out in Spanish.

"This is... South America?"

When they entered the village square, some five hundred prospective women farmers from across the country — all come to learn advanced farming methods — packed the plaza from end to end. The moment Kim Heung-soo and the rest of the advisory team stepped off the bus, thunderous applause erupted around them.

Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap—

The instant that thunderous applause died down, the woman standing at the very front, an armband around her sleeve, thrust her hand into the air and shouted.

"Attention, all!"

"......"

A silence so complete you couldn't even hear anyone breathe. Kim Heung-soo swallowed hard, still trying to process what he was looking at, when the armbanded woman strode toward him with forceful, pounding steps.

"Cooperation! I am Carolina, trainee representative of the Santa Maria Demonstration Village! It is an honor to meet the Korean advisory team!"

The pronunciation was imperfect, but it was unmistakably Korean.

"Ah... yes, a pleasure. I'm Kim Heung-soo, head of the advisory delegation."

When Kim Heung-soo held out his hand in a daze, Carolina didn't take it. Instead she glared at him and bellowed in Korean.

"We are ready!"

"Excuse me? Ready for what?"

Her booming voice rattled his eardrums.

"We do not sleep! We do not tire!"

"Uh... farming takes stamina, so you do need to sleep..."

But Carolina wasn't listening. She spun on her heel, raised a fist toward the trainees filling the square, and roared.

"Comrades! The technical advisory team from Korea has arrived! Recite our mission!"

Five hundred trainees screamed back as if they had been waiting for the cue.

"Who are we!"

"His Excellency's farmer-soldiers! The vanguard of industry!"

"For the lazy!"

"No bread!"

"For traitors!"

"Only death!"

"Viva Eugene! Viva San Marcos!"

Wooooaaaah—!

Hundreds of fists punched the sky as the square erupted in a roar that threatened to tear it apart. Madness burned in their eyes.

"Wait, why would you kill traitors..."

Kim Heung-soo stumbled backward and collided with Manager Park. The two men looked at each other, faces gone pale, and whispered.

"C-Chief... is this actually okay?"

"...I, I don't know either."

It looked for all the world like a cult revival meeting.

"All personnel, prepare for training!"

The instant Carolina's command dropped, five hundred trainees scattered in perfect unison, snatching up shovels and pickaxes. Watching those chilling backs recede, Kim Heung-soo had a single thought.

Ah...

I want to go home.

The next morning, six o'clock.

WREEEEEEE—!

A siren that sounded for all the world like an air-raid warning nearly sent Kim Heung-soo rolling off his bed.

"Gah!"

He scrambled to the window, half-convinced a war had broken out — and that was when a melody both familiar and strange exploded from the massive loudspeakers mounted on the roof of the village hall.

It was a wake-up song: the Korean Saemaul anthem, fitted with Spanish lyrics.

"Reveille! Reveille! All personnel assemble! Gather in the square within five minutes! Execute!"

At the bellow blasting from the loudspeakers, Kim Heung-soo and the rest of the advisory team peered outside in their sleepwear and could not close their mouths. From every lodging, residents in green vests and caps came pouring out. Not a single person shuffled or rubbed their eyes. They looked like trainees answering an emergency muster, a murderous determination burning in every gaze.

Hundreds of trainees were already standing in formation in the square. At the very front, Carolina, armband on her sleeve, swept them with a piercing glare and shouted.

"Team Three, Honan! You're late! Have you forgotten His Excellency's words — no bread for the lazy? Three penalty points!"

"I'm sorry!"

Faced with a scene that looked for all the world like a labor camp, Kim Heung-soo dragged a dry hand down his face.

"They weren't kidding when they said the women take it even further..."

Manager Park, standing beside him with a face gone pale, whispered.

"Chief... the look in these women's eyes is a little off. It's like they're possessed by something."

"......"

And once the real training began, Kim Heung-soo's surprise curdled into outright horror.

"The heart of tobacco farming is raising the seedlings."

Inside a temporary plastic greenhouse set up as a classroom, Chief Kim Heung-soo rapped the blackboard and launched into a passionate lecture.

"Tobacco seeds are tiny. Smaller than a sesame seed. If you just scatter them in a field, a hundred percent of them will wither and die. That's why you have to sprout them in a seedbed, raise them until they're strong, and only then transplant them to the field."

He pinched up a tobacco seed so small it was nearly invisible, lifting it with a pair of tweezers.

"Temperature at twenty-five degrees Celsius, humidity at eighty percent. Water three times a day — too much is bad, too little is bad. You have to wait on them hand and foot, like you're serving a master."

"Yes! Understood!"

The booming reply came as one, and some five hundred trainees bowed their heads in unison and began scribbling furiously in their notebooks.

Scratch scratch scratch scratch—

In their eyes, passion had already crossed over into something that looked a lot like killing intent.

"I have a question!"

Carolina, seated in the front row, shot her hand into the air.

"Go ahead."

"You said humidity at eighty percent. What do we do if rain or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the dry season makes it hard to hold that number?"

"Good question. In that case you cover them with wet straw, or you do the opposite and ventilate to bring it down. Temperatures drop at night, so you'll need to put insulating covers on as well."

"Then during the seedling stage, we must not sleep."

"No, you can sleep... I'm saying you just need to be a little more attentive."

"It's fine. Stamina, at least, I am confident in."

Carolina, her expression grim and resolute, pressed something hard into her notebook. Odds were overwhelming she had just written: Do not sleep during the seedling stage.

Hah. Relentless. Absolutely relentless.

When ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it came time for hands-on practice, the madness only intensified. The trainees lit their eyes on fire, determined not to miss a single one of Kim Heung-soo's hand movements.

"You have to cover the soil gently, like this. Press too hard and they can't breathe."

"Gently! Do not suffocate them!"

They copied his motions like robots. They repeated the work over and over until sweat poured off them like rain and dirt packed black under every fingernail, and not one of them complained. When Kim Heung-soo suggested they rest, they refused.

"We cannot! Today's work must be finished before the sun goes down!"

"Come on, if the sun sets, you can just do it tomorrow."

"Putting off today's work until tomorrow is treason against His Excellency!"

"What on earth is she talking about..."

Several days passed like that. Then, one afternoon, with the transplanting work in full swing — Kim Heung-soo and the advisory team doing their level best to teach tobacco farming to trainees whose enthusiasm had long since crossed the line into something unnerving — a dull thud sounded from a corner of the work site.

Thud.

"Huh?"

Kim Heung-soo ran toward the cluster of people murmuring and found Carolina collapsed on the ground. Her face was white as paper, her lips cracked and dry.

"Move!"

He shoved through the crowd and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"You've been working with a raging fever this whole time? I've never seen such a stubborn woman!"

He hoisted her onto his back without a second's hesitation and started running.

"I'm taking her to the infirmary — you all finish up here!"

When Carolina opened her eyes a short while later, the first thing she saw was Kim Heung-soo talking with the medical officer.

"It's exhaustion from overwork. I've put her on an IV drip, so she should be fine once she rests."

"What was she doing to work herself into a state like this..."

"She's the representative, so I imagine she pushed herself too hard."

"Tsk. We'll have to make sure she's more careful from now on."

Finished with the medical officer, Kim Heung-soo noticed Carolina's eyes were open.

"Oh? You're awake?"

"Chief..."

When Carolina tried to sit up, Kim Heung-soo pressed her shoulder back down.

"Stay lying down. You have to rest if you want to get better. I heard it was overwork — how many hours a night have you even been sleeping?"

"About two hours a day..."

"You stubborn—! Don't you know farming is done with stamina? How are you supposed to work on two hours of sleep?"

Kim Heung-soo snapped at her, and Carolina shook her head weakly.

"I-I'm sorry. I just wanted to succeed quickly... I shouldn't be lying here like this..."

"...All right. Let's rest for now. Once you're better, I'll teach you separately."

"No. I can get up right awa— ah..."

She forced herself up and collapsed again. Kim Heung-soo looked down at her and asked,

"You're already doing more than enough. Why are you pushing yourself this hard?"

"...I cannot fail."

"Even so — if you wreck your health, how are you supposed to farm at all?"

She wiped her tears and spoke in halting, imperfect Korean.

"I am a single mother."

"......"

"A woman raising a child alone... is not easy."

Her cracked lips moved.

"There is nothing I can give her. When she is sick I cannot even buy medicine. When she is hungry I can only give her water and put her to sleep."

"Oh, no..."

"His Excellency gave me this chance. If I learn the tobacco farming method properly... my daughter can live like other people."

"Haa..."

That look of a mother's love kindled something hot, deep in the chest of a man who had lived as a bachelor well past forty. Before he knew what he was doing, Kim Heung-soo pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her tears.

"Don't you worry. I'll teach you perfectly."

Carolina and Kim Heung-soo locked eyes, something warm and unspoken passing between them.

And not long after, rumors began circulating that someone had started leaving Korean snacks in front of trainee representative Carolina's tent.