The Tadpole Boy: Kim Min Yul

I don't watch Korean reality tv often; in fact, Appa Odiga: Dad, Where Are We Going? (a Korean show which brings kids and their celebrity dads-- who are hardly at home-- on trips without their mothers) is the only one I watch. And obsessively, at that. Appa Odiga is to me what Haagen Daaz ice-cream is to others on a blue or hard day. And just like some never tire of plain vanilla, strawberry shortcake or whatever flavour they fancy, Appa Odiga never grows old for me.

With kids, it's not considered P.C. to have favourites-- but I can't deny I do. While I adore Binnie for her spunk and surprisingly sensitive heart and Chan Hyung for his guileless smiles, little Min Yul alone captures my heart each time without fail.

He is a mini-me of his father, Kim Sung Joo, a veteran 'announcer'/ broadcaster in Korea. Precocious and intelligent beyond his young age (he just turned 7), Min Yul captured the hearts of audiences worldwide the moment he debuted with his brother in Season I, when he was barely 5. Since then, he has wowed us with his mental prowess (memorising a full list of Chinese restaurant prices & food names did not daunt him); cracked us up with his fiercely competitive streak (losing an archery game with his dad at Jiuzu Cultural Village (九族文化村) in Taiwan reduced him to heart-rending tears); and warmed our hearts simply because he's still at the age when his actions and motives are so pure and ill-concealed (e.g. when he tries to deny 'teasing' baby sister Min Joo by shrugging and saying, "How would I know?").

We laugh because we understand. We resonate. We've been there, and it's refreshing to see our human foibles so openly (and adorably) displayed.

But most of all, the reason why I love Kim Min Yul is because of what he has taught me. For all his brilliance, cuteness and talents, what I admire most about Min Yul is his unquestioning love for his father. Though his 'appa' can be quite the dork at times, tends to nag, and is pretty useless in the kitchen (beef-boiled soup turned out completely clear), Min Yul gave his dad 100/100 points in a heartbeat, when asked to rate his dad through video-cam in the final episode. He also said his dad was the 'coolest' to him, and uttered the words any father would die to hear-- "When I grow up, I want to be like him." Of course, the 'sweetness meter' rose to diabetic levels when Min Yul sheepishly added, "Please don't tell Mom. Before, I liked Mom the best. But now, I like Dad the best."

Not surprisingly, Appa Kim Sung Joo broke down, sobbing like a child-- partly in thankful tears at the incredible 'strength' his son's words had given him, and partly in regret at not having done that for his own dad, who now laid in hospital mentally regressed.

Min Yul reminded me that there is no shame in being unabashedly supportive of the people you love. And to say it without holding back, whatever age you are. While your intended recipient can still understand and draw strength from your words.

Min Yul also taught me the value of finding delight in the little that you have. In the picture above, Min Yul was eating microwavable plain white rice wrapped in seaweed (with a dash of hot sauce) for dinner, the best they could do that night during their low-budget Taiwan trip. Instead of complaining, he happily gobbled it down, having fun with the 'airplane' game his dad played with him while eating.

In an earlier trip (also low-budget) in Hong Kong, when Min Yul had to eat cup noodles for breakfast and walk for almost 2 hours uphill to The Peak, instead of complaining, the little boy of 6 years took it in his stride. He merely shrugged, and said, "Exercise is good!", even though he was clearly panting from the exertion. He said it to relieve his dad's apologetic sentiments.

On another Appa Odiga trip to New Zealand this time, the kids got a chance to get up-close with llamas. Min Yul was the youngest in the group, but yet while others cowered and mostly clung to their fathers' pants in fear, this plucky kid excitedly asked for llama feed and bounced off by himself. Gingerly but with great anticipation, he approached a brown llama and fed it. Growing confident, he approached yet another llama-- a white one this time- and attempted to mount it from the back. To his shock, Min Yul was immediately thrown off as the llama got up, clearly unimpressed. Landing on his side and bottom, Min Yul was dumbfounded for a while, but quickly stood up and told his anxious dad (who came running) that he got flung off, managing to chuckle from bewilderment. No crying, no fuss. Just another experience under his belt, and the newfound knowledge that llamas ain't no horse and will not deign to be ridden, thank you very much.

I pray even as Min Yul grows up, these admirable child-like (not childish) qualities of him will remain. But even if they fade with time, I am thankful. Because beautiful seeds of love, joy, contentment and gratitude have been sown-- and they shall bear fruit in due time.

Thank you, Kim Min Yul. For teaching us a timeless lesson in humanity.

P.S. In case you were wondering, I call him the 'Tadpole Boy' because in his debut at Pumgeoli Village in Season I, after falling and being ignored by the older kids, he randomly sat down by the dusty road and started singing (with hand actions) the popular Korean kids' tune 'Tadpole Song'.