|
As she sweeps her broom across the dirt-settled floor of a furniture factory in Namyangju, a desolate city just outside Seoul, Ella Quinones suddenly halts and drops her head as if she were about to pray -- or cry.
She knows this wasn't meant to be this way.
Standing in the run-down factory where everyone is off to their families, the 30-year-old Philippine woman wishes she had her son waiting at home, too, even though she knows he won't be there.
Quinones moved to South Korea's remote farming area of Gochang, 280 kilometers south of Seoul, six years ago, after she decided to marry a South Korean man. She thought it would be a good chance to get out of the slum she seemed stuck to in her country, and start a new life in a better-off country she had fond feelings about.
But after three years of frightful marriage and a divorce, she is now left with chronic chest pain, cruel memories of discrimination and near-permanent unemployment.
"My husband, when he gets angry, he liked to hit and curse. After he hit me, he said it's OK. When he can hit, his mind is out of control," she said in broken English.
Quinones lives in a shabby home but what is troubling more to her is her separation from her three-year-old child being raised in the Philippines.
"I sent my son to Philippines, because my husband, when he gets angry, also hit my son," she said.
There are many other troubled migrant women in South Korea like Quinones.
A study by the state-run Rural Resources Development Institute last month showed 41 percent of the 150 migrant wives surveyed experienced physical or verbal abuse from their Korean husbands.
Another survey, conducted last year by the Ministry of Health and Welfare, showed that 14 percent of the 945 migrant women surveyed were beaten by their Korean husbands, while 31 percent were verbally abused.
Interracial marriages are on a steady rise in South Korea, because there are fewer Korean women who want to marry men from rural areas where life is tough.
"It's become natural for these men to look outside the country," said Kim Jeong-hun, a farmer activist who helps find spouses for his fellow farmers.
Since 1990, interracial marriages involving Korean men and foreign women have jumped by 240 times to 160,000 couples, including 31,180 in 2005 alone.
"Despite the rapid increase, our society isn't prepared to protect these migrant women," said Yang Soon-mi, a researcher at the Rural Resources Development Institute.
Quinones recalled a painful memory of being denied protection when she visited police after being beaten by her husband.
"Even though I go to police, I tell about my husband hitting me, but the police man, when my husband came, (said) 'go to your husband.'" she said.
Quinones said she was also treated like an outcast at a hospital after being beaten by her husband.
"I (went) to hospital because my left rib is dislocated. But when I ask doctor what happened to my left side, they can't tell me anything, but to my husband only," she said.
According to a recent government survey, 67 percent of 270 migrant women, either single or married, said they experienced social discrimination.
About 180,000 migrant women living in the country are mostly from China, Southeast Asia, Mongolia and as far as Uzbekistan.
"We've set up networks to socially integrate them but we have no specific legal measures in force to handle the issue of violence and discrimination," Moon Su-yong, an official at the Ministry of Justice, said.
Street-side placards and leaflets advertising interracial marriages graphically illustrate a distorted view among some Koreans of migrant women.
"Pretty Vietnamese women available anytime you want. Pay later, 100% on credit. Guarantees that she will never run away," reads one placard hung across a road outside Seoul.
Civic activists warn that the problem could backfire.
"Because some of us are senseless about the fact that they, too, are humans, we tend to think of them as mere products," said Kwon Mi-jin, an activist with the Migrant Women's Human Rights Center, a local advocacy group. "That's why some brokers feel fine deceiving these women."
According to a government survey, one out of every five migrant women found their Korean husbands different from what they were told they would be. Some even ended up living with men who are mentally ill, alcohol-addicted or physically abusive.
Anna Fajilan, 30, who also works in the same furniture-making complex as Quinones, has been separated from her alcoholic Korean husband since July.
"They told me my husband-to-be wouldn't drink or smoke. But when I came here, I found he drank and smoked a lot," she said, disclosing that she had sent her two daughters, aged 3 and 6, to the Philippines to protect them from their abusive father.
About 600 international matchmaking agencies are operating registered in South Korea but several hundred more are believed in operation illegally, according to activist groups.
A bill aimed at punishing interracial matchmakers who provide false information to migrant brides about their future Korean husbands is pending in parliament.
"Our bill is being trumped by some 300 other welfare bills that are more urgent," said Yoo Kyeong-seon, an aide to Rep. Kim Choon-jin, a ruling party lawmaker who first proposed the bill.
Another problem is thumping fees charged by matchmakers for interracial marriages. They often become huge debts the spouses can't clear for many years after marriage.
"It costs from 12 million won (US$13,000) to 30 million won for a man to bring in a woman," said Han Kuk-yeom, head of the Migrant Women's Human Rights Center. "Men borrow money to pay the fees, but the debts sometimes fall upon the women because their husbands are unable to pay them off."
Jorge Bustamente, U.N. Special Rapporteur on migrants' human rights, indicated in Seoul last week that he would address the financial plight of migrant women in Korea at next year's U.N. General Assembly.
"Sometimes, they charge fees that represent debts for the women ... and the payment of these debts represents some problems," he said.
Some brokers are under fire for using the international marriage system to smuggle foreign women for prostitution in Korea or cheap menial jobs most Koreans shun.
Divorces involving migrant wives are also on the rise, reaching 2,400 last year, up 65 percent from the previous year, according to government statistics.
Quinones said she has a government permit to stay in South Korea but a job with a decent pay is hard to find.
"Sa-jang-nim (boss in Korean) likes men, younger and stronger than me. I have so much stress," she said, disclosing she gets about 400,000 won (US$430) a month, far short of an average 1.8 million won most of her Korean colleagues receive.
"My baby, my son, how I miss him," she said, recalling a recent phone call with him. "My son always asking me, 'when I go to Korea? Mommy!'"
|
