Chapter 67: That Time I Started Saemaul Undong in South America (3)

TL: Skye

While five hundred trainees were busy learning tobacco cultivation in the village of Santa Maria, Yu-jin used an address to the nation to announce the Saemaul Undong.

[To my respected and beloved citizens of San Marcos. This is Acting President Yu-jin Choi.

I stand before you today to deliver a message to those of our people who live in the countryside.

Outside the capital of Libertad, our rural areas are poor. The roads are not properly paved, turning to mud whenever it rains, and without electricity, our people must live in pitch-black darkness once night falls.

Since taking office as Acting President, I have agonized over how to solve this problem.

And I found the answer in my homeland of Korea.

My homeland of Korea was, fifty years ago, also the poorest country in the world. With nothing to eat, our people stripped bark from trees; with nothing to wear, we patched together the clothes American soldiers had thrown away.

But today, they stand among the world's top ten economies.

How was this possible? Did oil gush out of the earth? Did the great powers shower them with money?

No. They had the will to rise on their own. When the dawn bell rang, they were the first ones up, throwing themselves into their work, and every last one of them labored for the community.

That is why I wish to plant in San Marcos the miraculous spark known as the Saemaul Undong.

The spirit of this movement is diligence, self-reliance, and cooperation. To work hard, to rise by one's own strength rather than leaning on others, and to help one's neighbors.

Starting today, the government will help those who help themselves.

If the people unite and work for their villages, the government will lead the way in supporting them.

My fellow citizens, let us break this wretched cycle of poverty. Let us tell our descendants with pride that we toiled and made our nation rich.

We can do it.]

The gist of the address boiled down to this.

We'll modernize the villages you live in, so lend a hand.

The success of the tobacco harvest had yet to be confirmed, but the bait had been thrown out preemptively.

Soon after, civil servants fanned out across every last corner of the country, pasting up notices.

<Special Government Announcement>

1, Villages that participate in the Saemaul Undong by building a village hall and improving their access roads will receive free cement and slate roofing. Villages that also establish communal farmland will receive priority allocation of seeds in the upcoming tobacco harvest.

2, Villages will be grouped into regions of five, and any village designated as an Outstanding Village within its region will receive priority electrical supply and food assistance.

3, The single Top Village selected from among the five regions will be designated as a model housing village, with new modern homes built free of charge.

The announcement fell on rural San Marcos like a nuclear bomb.

Because for people who had lived their lives with rainwater pouring through woven-wood roofs every wet season, dirt floors turning to bug-infested mud, the prospect of a leak-proof slate roof and a solid cement floor was the stuff of dreams.

Before long, competition began to break out from village to village.

"The next village over already finished paving their road and got cement and bricks to build a village hall, you know."

"Heard the village over the mountain has everyone pitching in to carve out the hillside."

"The village down the valley's already dug an irrigation channel. We can't just sit around like this."

Villages all across the country were stirring.

The success of a neighboring village that had been in exactly their position was an irresistible provocation.

"Let's get our cement too! Village Chief, file an application with the Ministry of Internal Affairs right now!"

[The dawn bell has rung A new morning has dawned Up, every one of us Let's work for His Excellency]

At six in the morning, without fail, the dawn bell song blared from the loudspeakers and the villagers came pouring out of their homes.

People who would normally have slept in, wrapped up their day's work in the late afternoon, and turned in at sunset were now up working earlier than anyone.

And those who had finished their morning labor pooled their efforts in the afternoons and began to transform their villages.

Pitted village access roads were graded smooth, and farmland was cleared for tobacco cultivation.

They hauled gravel, cut trees on the hillsides, and pried out boulders.

These were rural villages whose young men had been all but swept off into the highway construction.

What remained were the women, the elderly, the children, and the infirm.

To say it wasn't hard would be a lie.

And yet, all the same, a fire burned in their eyes.

The hope that they could pull it off, and the desire to outdo the next village over, had stripped away that famous South American indolence.

And at the heart of that great transformation, the most powerful and clandestine organization in the history of San Marcos was being born.

The women's association.

*

"The National Saemaul Women's Association, hmm..."

Yu-jin tilted his head as he read through the proposal Isabella had submitted.

"The Saemaul Undong seems to be running smoothly at the village level. Is there really a need to organize a women's association on a nationwide scale?"

Yu-jin's point was sharp, but Isabella met it with an unwavering gaze and a rehearsed answer.

"It is absolutely necessary, Your Excellency."

"Why is that?"

"To strengthen the sustainability of the Saemaul Undong."

"Hmm... I'm going to need a bit more explanation."

Yu-jin set the papers down and folded his arms.

"I don't believe Your Excellency launched the Saemaul Undong merely to revitalize the countryside. I imagine it's part of a broader policy to turn those who have lived as Unregistered Persons, outside the benefits of civilization, into true citizens. Am I correct?"

"You are. I wanted to build a sense of common ground across the entire population."

"Which is precisely why we need the Women's Association. Out in the provinces, more than half the population still can't read, and many households have no television or radio. To disseminate central policy quickly and accurately, we have to borrow people's mouths, and above all, the mouths of the mothers, who anchor the household."

Isabella turned a page in her chart with a deliberately grave expression.

"Take the hygiene education we recently launched alongside the Saemaul Undong. In the provinces, there are still people who don't understand why one should wash one's hands, or why one should boil drinking water. It's why infant mortality is so high."

"That's clearly a serious problem."

"Having male officials teach household by household provokes too much resistance. It also takes far too long. But if the village women themselves step up and spread the message, wash for your children's sake, the policy will reach every corner faster and in more detail than any other medium could."

"Ah... when you put it that way, I see your point."

Yu-jin nodded. Hearing her out, it made sense. To raise the quality of life for the population, grassroots enlightenment was just as essential as grand infrastructure investment.

"What's more, there's no better organization for promoting the government's childcare or education policies. There's no megaphone more terrifying than mothers' word of mouth."

"Fair enough. The question, then, is the budget..."

"It won't require a large one. We'll incentivize voluntary participation, and the benefits will be drawn from what's already allocated to the Saemaul Undong."

"Sounds good. Let's go ahead with it, then."

"Thank you, Your Excellency."

Pleased, Yu-jin signed off on the authorization papers.

But he had no idea.

That what he had just signed was not the founding charter of some simple hygiene-education group, but of an organization that would come to hold provincial public opinion in the palm of its hand.

*

That afternoon. A quiet village reachable only after an hour's drive from the outskirts of Libertad.

Somewhere ambiguous, country if one called it country, town if one called it town, a young woman was hanging laundry in front of one of the houses.

Snap, snap!

A floral apron, hair tied back in a tight knot. Every inch the housewife, except the snap of her wrist as she shook out the wet shirts was anything but ordinary.

The woman moving with that economy of motion, that crisp precision as she pinned clothes to the line, was named Maria Teixeira.

Once a black ops agent of the SIA, and the elite operative Isabella had treasured above all others, she was also the agent the previous director had forced into retirement.

She had married the day she retired and had been living an ordinary life ever since.

Screech.

A black sedan rolled to a halt in front of her house.

Maria, hands still moving over the laundry, checked the car from the corner of her eye.

'A government car?'

She turned slowly, thinking.

'What's this about?'

For a woman now living the ordinary life of a housewife alongside her farm-owner husband, there was only one possible reason a senior official would come knocking.

Recruitment.

An offer to come back to the SIA, currently flexing and expanding under the Lucio regime.

But Maria had no intention of accepting.

She had once dreamed of climbing higher than anyone else, but the life she had now mattered more.

It was just as Maria, hedging her bets, slipped her hand into her apron pocket and closed it around the grip of a pistol...

That Isabella stepped out of the car, pulled off her sunglasses, and walked into the yard.

"It's been a while, Maria."

"Team Leader!"

Maria let go of the pistol and ran out to meet her.

"What brings you all the way out here, Team Leader... I mean, Chief of Staff."

"How's married life? Manageable?"

"I find my joy in raising the kids and looking after my husband."

"Is that right? It looks peaceful. Good for you."

Isabella glanced at the white shirts on the line and spoke offhandedly.

"Hmm... actually, I came out here to ask a favor."

"If you're here to tell me to come back to the SIA, I'll have to decline. I've been off the field too long, and I can't give up the life I have now."

"And what if it weren't about coming back? What if you could go on living exactly as you are?"

"I'd like to hear what the favor is first."

Smiling, Isabella drew a document envelope from inside her jacket and handed it over.

"A nationwide women's organization is going to be established shortly."

"What sort of organization?"

"The National Saemaul Women's Association. Built around housewives living in the provinces."

Maria opened the envelope, glanced inside, and nodded.

"An organization that could hold intelligence and public opinion in one hand and shake them at will."

The instinct hadn't died. Isabella let out a small breath of admiration.

"That's my Maria. Exactly right. Public opinion begins inside the household. Take control of the women's association, and you take control of provincial opinion in one stroke."

"And what would you have me do?"

"Join it. I've already put your name down as the Women's Association President for this village, so it won't be difficult. And then..."

Isabella took a step closer.

"Become the national president and take the organization in hand. The pay will be more than reasonable. Well? Can you do it?"

"...I'll do it."

A cool smile spread across her lips.

"Oh? Shouldn't you at least discuss it with your husband?"

"It's fine. With the children getting older, I've been needing a side job anyway."

Maria untied her apron and asked,

"When do I start?"

"I'll be in touch soon. I'll arrange to have you installed as president of the National Saemaul Women's Association, so all you have to do is take the organization in hand."

"Understood."

Watching Maria's quiet confidence, Isabella allowed herself a satisfied smile.

Because if it was Maria of all people stepping up, then the women's association, that shadow organization, was as good as already in their hands.

'The world is ruled by men, but the ones who rule men, in the end, are women.'

Isabella looked off in the direction of the Presidential Palace.

'Your Excellency. You just remain the shining sun above us. We'll handle the dirty work down here.'

*****

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