Home is Something My Family Had to Fight For
Sakhalin Korean & Palestinian
My name is Hidaya Mansour, which means guidance in Arabic.
These photos have been provided by Hidaya Mansour
I was born in Torrance, California, but at six, my family and I moved to Busan, South Korea to be closer to my maternal side of the family, as my mother had not seen them since she left Russia in 1996. Busan is home for me, as I was raised here and my family lives here, too. My parents made sure that I was aware of my two heritages growing up.
Since my mother is from Sakhalin Island, Russia and my father is from Tulkarem, Palestine, in order for them to preserve their heritage and culture, they ensured that I knew the language, culture, and history of my people. Unfortunately, the history of Russian Koreans from Sakhalin and the struggles of the Palestinians are unknown to the rest of the world, making it even more necessary that I was aware of my heritage growing up.
My upbringing was unique. It was something truly remarkable, and I will forever be grateful for it. My mother being a teacher ensured that I was surrounded by books. I began reading in Arabic, Russian, and English at three, and continued to take particular interest in learning languages and cultures. Languages were something extremely valuable in family, as my Babushka would say that learning a language will never be something you regret, even if it is difficult.
Additionally, I had the extreme privilege of being able to travel the world and experience the cultures of others. Traveling and meeting people from around the world allowed me to view differently and from different lens. My father is a chef, and has introduced me to a variety of food in my life. Additionally, at home my grandmother would cook a Russian Korean fusion, my mother would cook either Russian or Arabic food, and my father would cook Arabic or Mexican food.
This motivated to continue learning about my cultures, but also the cultures of other people, and finding interest in learning more about history and culture through food. Adding on, because of the difficulty endured by both sides of my family, I see myself often advocating for others and raising awareness on critical issues. Such activism is done by participating in organizations that aid marganizled groups or by volunteering at local charities for both people and animals.
My role model growing up was Seo Din Gir (Vladimir Seo), my maternal grandfather.
Dedushka, as I would call him. He was the strongest, kindest, and most diligent man I knew. Born in 1944, all he knew was a struggle. Since Sakhalin Island (previously called Karafuto Prefacture) was occupied by Japan, he never had the chance to meet his father, who was forced to be a miner by the Japanese. Growing up in a large family, my grandfather had to fend for himself.
The Soviet Union did not allow Koreans to practice their culture and travel freely, both locally and internationally; at the same time, they did not view them as Russian, even though they were born in Russia. The same went with Korea. Korea itself did not view these Koreans as its own, leaving them to face obstacles alone in a foreign country. Russian Koreans became stateless.
Even with the hardships of growing up in a foreign country and having to teach himself his mother tongue, my grandfather was able to find peace and happiness in his life. My grandfather was a marine engineer in the Soviet Union but he devoted his time to raising awareness of the pain and hardships endured by Koreans under Japanese occupation.
My grandfather’s father was killed in the mines. My grandfather created a monument to honor the passing of his father and all other miners who passed away. This was his way of preserving his culture and history; by ensuring that future generations had something to remind them everyday of the struggles their grandparents and great grandparents endured.
There are many cultural differences between the Russian Korean culture of my mother and the Palestinian American culture of my father. Being Muslim, we have to remind my Korean relatives that we do not eat pork or drink, which is very shocking for them. However, regardless of how difficult it may be to remind people constantly or teach others about my culture, my household environment is comforting and accepting.
My parents speak Arabic and English with each other, while I speak Russian and English with my mother and grandparents, then Arabic and English with my father. I often become a translator in my family. My grandparents are always eager to learn more about my father’s culture and my father does his best to learn more. My family taught me that with love and respect, change can happen.
Growing up in Korea meant that every second I had to prove myself. As a child, [it] was extremely isolating. I am willing to explain who I am and teach others the history of my people, but regardless of this, I am always viewed by their own presumptions of me. On the other hand, explaining my mixed Korean background with my Arab side is not any easier. My mother and I always had people thinking we were Chinese, rather than Korean. Such “jokes” that stem from ignorance and racism are what further create such isolation and harm.
Do I say that I am Arab? Korean? In my mind, if I simply choose one culture over the other, I am not doing justice to either of them. If someone asks where I am from, I say that I am half-Palestinan and half-Russian Korean. I simply have to say that I am half this and half that because there is no other way of simplifying it. Explaining to people where I am from is another form of preserving culture and history.
These challenges do not only pertain to me but also to my parents. Being an interracial couple is extremely difficult, especially in cultures that may not necessarily accept such differences. My parents have experienced racism and discrimination from each other’s cultures, but nevertheless, they have learned to persevere.
At home, we are extremely vocal about politics in Russia, Korea, Palestine, and the US. I navigate through politics by reminding myself of the history of my people and how exactly we have come to the current state these countries are in currently. This has helped me to recognize similarities within the politics of other countries and people. No matter how difficult situations are, hate should never be the main source of argument. That is something my family ensured to teach me.
If people do not attempt to learn their own history and culture, there is a chance of it becoming forgotten. It is crucial that people preserve culture and history because it is a part of someone’s identity. If I do not learn or take an interest in understanding my culture and history, then who exactly am I? We must continue learning more about the world because knowledge is what creates reason.
I dream one day of becoming a lawyer. But in all honesty, I dream of having a community accepts me. Being mixed can sometimes be isolating, especially when neither heritage seems to acknowledge you. I dream that everyone will have the opportunity to be accepted and welcomed by those around them, but especially by people from their culture and heritage.
One of my happiest memories was visiting my great-grandmother when I was a child. She lived in a senior citizen home specifically for Koreans who were displaced in Russia. Hearing the stories from Babushka Doosya, Babushka Katya, and the other grandmothers in the facility was something truly heartwarming and eye-opening.
Even at a young age, I understood the necessity of having a place to call home. I would make 팥죽 (red bean porridge) with them and hand roll 새알 as their hands that held a thousand stories and memories could no longer roll rice cake.
Home is something that my family from both sides had to fight for. In the future, I hope there is a place they will call their forever home.
