Word: hun
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...Sitting on the floor beside his fiance, Lee Do Hun says he wanted to stay in China when he first arrived a few years ago. Now, he is about to embark on a journey to South Korea with his future wife and says the perils are greater than ever. "We might be put in prison, we might be killed. If North Korea finds out you got to Seoul, they will find your relatives and kill them." The map is put away and another missionary leads the group in a brief prayer. One of the women preparing to leave is crying...
...point out that Yeo also comes from Cholla, an underdeveloped region famous for its gangs. Oppressed by Korea's previous military governments, Cholla politicians and gangsters got to know one another, sometimes in prison. The gangsters acted as bodyguards and did other favors for pols, says Kim Kyu Hun, head of the Seoul district prosecutor's violent crimes division. When President Kim's party came to power, the fists crawled out of the woodwork. "Now," the prosecutor says, "they want the favors returned...
...cooled down a bit," he says. "I was the kind of guy who could strangle an inanimate object. I was a road-rage kind of guy." Asked if his views on abortion and divorce have softened, he says, "No, they haven't changed much. People call me Attila the Hun and all this stuff, but it's how I attempt to live my life. There are basically 10 rules, and they work if you adhere to them. Love thy neighbor - that's a good societal plan...
...Then I start practicing both hands together. About the first 200 times, I play the song slower than Billie Holiday would have sung it on the day she died. "I - get - too - hun - gry - for - G minor - at - eight." The old gibe about how to get to Carnegie Hall is true: practice, man, practice. Eventually, magically, I start to recognize a song emerging from my fumbles. But something is missing: an audience...
Then I start practicing both hands together. About the first 200 times, I play the song slower than Billie Holiday would have sung it on the day she died. "I--get--too--hun--gry--for--G minor--at--eight." The old gibe about how to get to Carnegie Hall is true: practice, man, practice. Eventually, magically, I start to recognize a song emerging from my fumbles. But something is missing: an audience...