The Korean cold-war divide hits home

Watching the World Cup can sometimes take your temperature to a whole new level.

If you watch matches with a specific country crowd, you will know how much pride they have in their teams. Take the South Koreans for example. The Korean Association will book the Vgolf bar (at the entrance to Bras Basah station) for all Koreans for exclusive screening of all Korean matches in the World Cup.

Going for one of these screenings can be an unforgettable experience. Armed to the teeth with much fanfare and optimism with kids in tow, the Koreans (and their non-Korean supporters) will turn up in a sea of red and pack the bar to the brim. Sometimes, they also head to the nearby Irish Pub for some good old soccer action over a hearty glass of Budweiser.

I remember the fateful match against former champions Argentina. The Korean team fared bravely against the La Albiceleste who had better forwards, but the Korean audience was still extremely enthusiastic and supportive. They would sigh collectively whenever their team misses goals by a knife edge, clap whenever the defence or goalie successfully parries the much vaunted Argentinian bulldozer attack, and cheer whenever their mid-fields and forwards gets the initiative with the ball.

Photo from FIFA.com

Down by 2 goals at the 32nd minute, the Koreans were certainly not out. Then it happened in the 45th minute, when Lee Chung-Young took advantage of a dittering Martin Demichelis who was dwelling on the ball for too long, lunged from nowhere, and scored their first goal against the Argentinians. The whole crowd seemed to throw their hands into the air in unison with a collective, rumbling roar that rankled the bar and stunned the over-stressed beer ladies, some jumping and screaming with joy, others hugging in groups.

But above all, we were all cheering a common language: Korea hwaiting! hwaiting! hwaiting! (fighting, fighting, fighting). In that moment, it is almost impossible not to feel solidarity with the Koreans infused with a sense of asian pride and nationalism.

The Koreans went down 4-1 but the audience was still appreciative of their team. Win or lose, there was still pride in being Korean, and respect for playing on the grandest stage of all.

However, the North Korean match against Portugal was a different story. Despite being a prime-time Monday evening slot, the Vgolf bar was not screening the match (apparently, the Korean Association conspicuously failed to book the bar) and not a single Korean was in sight even before the match. A small group of Koreans strolled into the Irish Pub minutes into the match, and stayed silent as the North Koreans flopped against the on-form Portuguese who had a field day with 7 goals against nil.

Only the non-Koreans were cheering for the underdogs who braved the rain and slippery field to give Portugal a run for their money in the first half of the match. But gone were the red shirts, the Korean cheers, and more importantly, the support from their fellow Choson countrymen.

What happened? Did the South Koreans stay away because of the fallout from the sinking of the Cheonan warship? Or they just simply didn't care?

I was pretty convinced that North or South Korean, they will still cheer for each other, with a more affirmed recognition and pride of their solidarity as the Choson people. Guess I was wrong.

But nevertheless, I will still cheer for the Koreans, despite the cold-war divide.