Dreaming In Literature: Bookworm Prisoner

North Korea's military invaded South Korea before the United States military had a chance to come in and rescue all the expats, as planned. We all decided to make the best of it and thought maybe the North Koreans would want some English lessons as well.

Actually, the North Koreans didn't really care for anyone non-Korean being in the country and started coming up with any possible excuse to deport foreigners. Somehow they found my blog, got an eyeful and decided that what I read and discussed was in direct opposition to their philosophies.

Next thing I knew, the police were at my door in full riot gear -- sticks, shields and all. Since they looked as young as my students, I wasn't really worried. One of them even bowed a little and began discussing the problem with me in English that was pretty impressive. I praised him for his diligence about studying.

He waved off my compliment. "Your book list. It is unacceptable." He gave me a piece of paper. "This is our list of banned books. You have read eighty percent. Unacceptable."

Damn, I thought. I'm going to be deported. Crap. I never learned how to make kimchi. Why didn't I buy Good Morning, Kimchi! when I saw it at Kyobo all those years?

"When do I have to leave?" I asked. "You see, I've got all these books -- " I gestured at my shelves. "I need to get them home."

"You don't understand," he said. "Your reading list is bad, very bad! We are going to put you in prison. No deportation. Prison! Do you understand?"

"You mean like jail? Lock me up?"

"Yes. Our list and your list..." One of the other policemen had somehow found my reading journal on the top shelf, next to the Little House books. "This list is bad. You are going to jail!"

"How long?"

No response.

"When? Can I take a few things?" I'd grab the Pulitzers, if I could, but I had a feeling that the collection would be stalled for a while at 38.

"You go to prison tomorrow. Goodbye." He and the other police bowed and left.

I quickly called as many of my expat friends as I could and explained my situation. They instantly showed up at my apartment. Surprisingly, none of them had been singled out for this particular crime.

"I'm going to try to get all the Pulitzers in my suitcase. And my toothbrush. Screw clothing -- I bet they'll make me wear some ratty uniform."

"You probably won't have time to read," Diane pointed out. "I heard that North Korean prisons work you in the fields from dawn to night."

"Well, they can't work people twenty four-seven. I bet the prison library only has books in Hangeul. Will you guys send me some books?"

"No way." Talya said. "We might send the wrong ones and get thrown in jail, too."

"Good point." I sighed. "I should call my family. I can just hear them saying 'I-told-you-so.' I'll just act like it's no big deal. That way, they won't worry or have the satisfaction of being right."

"They already know," Shanna said. "Obama got on the news and said that he's sorry for you since he's a reader himself, but the United States can't give in to North Korea's unreasonable demands."

"Shit," I said. "Did you know that I voted for him?" Everyone nodded glumly.

.Leigh wanted to know if she could borrow The Zahir. "It's Paulo Coelho. Keep it forever," I told her.

The riot police showed up again at suppertime. "You go to jail now."

I lost my patience. "Now!? You said tomorrow! Damn it, these last-minute schedule changes are something that have gotten under my skin for years! I need to go to E-Mart!"

"Go to E-Mart, then come back here and go to jail."

Unaccompanied, I left the apartment and walked to the subway station. As I stood on the platform, I thought this might be a good time to make a run for it, but wait! My red suitcase (with all those Pulitzers inside) was back at the apartment. Damn.