Seoul Coughing

(From The Korea Herald, October 2005) 

by　Tracey　Stark

Brandi Vallodolid and Christina Cho stayed in a cage for more than an hour on Monday, October 24, 2005 to protest the inhumane treatment of chickens used by KFC in Seoul.

Two　bikini-clad　protesters　squatted　in　a　small　cage　for　more　than　an　hour　yesterday　in　front　of　a　KFC　in　Seoul　to　protest　the　inhumane　treatment　of　chickens　supplied　to　the　fast　food　chain.

As　the　regular　lunch　hour　was　beginning　in　Seoul,　two　women　in　yellow　bikinis　and　silver　high　heels　walked　down　the　street　carrying　a　small　wire　cage　and　signs　that　read,　”KFC　Tortures　Chicks,”　in　both　English　and　Korean,　stopped　in　front　of　the　fast　food　restaurant,　squatted　on　the　ground　and　placed　the　cage　over　their　heads.

They　were　in　Seoul　as　part　of　People　for　the　Ethical　Treatment　of　Animals’　ongoing　protest　–　called　”Kentucky　Fried　Cruelty”　–　against　what　they　say　is　the　fast　food　chains’　suppliers’　continual　inhumane　treatment　of　chickens.

The　cage　was　less　than　one　meter　wide,　and　three-quarters　of　a　meter　deep　and　tall.　But　the　women　were　not　complaining　about　the　cramped　space.

“It’s　not　as　uncomfortable　as　having　a　beak　cut　off　and　being　trampled　in　a　cage　my　entire　life,”　said　Brandi　Vallodolid,　who　works　at　PETA’s　main　U.S.　office　in　Norfolk,　Virginia.　

“We　have　way　more　space　than　the　chickens　do.　Their　personal　living　space　is　smaller　than　a　standard　sheet　of　paper,”　Christina　Cho,　a　classical　pianist　and　part-time　activist　added.

According　to　PETA’s　website　and　a　documentary　narrated　by　actress　Pamela　Anderson,　the　chickens　supplied　to　KFC　live　in　over-crowded　conditions,　develop　diseases　from　high　ammonia　levels,　become　lame　and　crippled　from　drugs　that　speed　up　growth　and　accidents　related　to　being　top　heavy,　and　when　they　are　caught　for　slaughter　they　are　often　thrown　violently　into　small　containers,　resulting　in　broken　legs　and　wings.　The　video　also　showed　the　operation　of　a　beak-trimming　machine　used　on　young　chicks.

The　slaughtering　process,　PETA　claims,　is　even　worse.　First,　the　chickens　are　hung　upside　down,　then　run　through　a　stun　bath,　with　voltages　so　low　the　chickens　are　often　completely　conscious.　The　chickens’　throats　are　then　slit　and　they　are　next　dipped　into　scalding　hot　water　for　feather　removal.　Again,　PETA　says,　the　chickens　are　still　often　conscious.

“The　beak-trimming　machine　shown　in　the　PETA　video　…　is　no　longer　in　common　use　in　our　industry,”　said　Richard　Lobb,　a　spokesperson　for　the　National　Chicken　Council.

PETA　spokesperson　Bruce　Friedrich　insisted　that　all　the　video　was　shot　within　the　last　year　and　a　half　of　its　release.

KFC　could　not　be　reached　for　comment,　but　animal　welfare　guidelines　and　press　releases　at　http://www.kfc.com/　refute　every　accusation　that　PETA　has　made.

“As　a　major　purchaser　of　food　products,　we　have　the　opportunity,　and　responsibility,　to　influence　the　way　animals　supplied　to　us　are　treated.　We　take　that　responsibility　very　seriously,　and　we　are　monitoring　our　suppliers　on　an　ongoing　basis　…　As　a　consequence,　it　is　our　goal　to　only　deal　with　suppliers　who　promise　to　maintain　our　high　standards　and　share　our　commitment　to　animal　welfare.

They　also　show　their　animal　welfare　and　poultry　guidelines,　covering　comfort　and　shelter,　catching,　transport,　holding,　stunning,　and　humane　slaughter.　”If　an　audit　reveals　dirty　or　sick　birds,　corrective　action　at　the　grow-out　house　must　be　taken　by　the　supplier,”　KFC’s　website　said.

The　website　also　lists　an　animal　welfare　council　consisting　of　animal　welfare　experts.　”In　consultation　with　our　Council,　Yum!　Brands　(the　parent　company　of　KFC)　has　developed　guidelines　and　audit　programs　for　our　suppliers　in　the　broiler　industry,”　the　website　said.

Broilers　are　chickens　used　for　their　meat.

Several　of　the　people　still　listed　on　the　website　have　recently　resigned　their　posts　over　a　proposed　confidentiality　agreement:　Dr.　Temple　Grandin,　Colorado　State　University　and　Dr.　Ian　Duncan,　Department　of　Animal　&　Poultry　Science,　University　of　Guelph,　Ontario.　The　agreement　would　prevent　them　from　speaking　to　the　press　about　any　of　their　findings　or　conclusions　related　to　KFC　suppliers.　

In　a　Chicago　Tribune　article　former　advisor　Adele　Douglass　said　that　KFC　”never　had　any　meetings.　They　never　asked　for　any　advice,　and　then　they　touted　to　the　press　that　they　had　this　animal-welfare　committee.　I　felt　like　I　was　being　used.”

Although　PETA　had　no　concrete　information　about　suppliers　of　Korea’s　KFC　restaurants　they　say　it　is　the　same　everywhere.

“We’ve　never　done　an　investigation　anywhere　where　there　weren’t　egregious　violations.　It’s　the　nature　of　mass　production,　but　they　have　to　find　a　way　to　do　it　humanely,”　Vallodolid　said.

One　such　supplier　was　Pilgrim’s　Pride,　in　West　Virginia.　Hidden　video　cameras　caught　workers　stomping　on　the　chickens,　drop-kicking　them　like　footballs　and　throwing　them　violently　against　a　wall.　And　it　appeared　that　the　workers　were　doing　it　for　fun.

The　footage　was　shot　by　a　PETA　investigator　who　worked　from　October　2003　to　May　2004　at　the　Pilgrim’s　Pride　plant　in　Moorefield,　which　won　KFC’s　”Supplier　of　the　Year”　award　in　1997.

KFC’s　president　Gregg　Dedrick　said　in　a　press　conference　after　the　release　of　the　video　in　July　2004,　”As　a　responsible　corporate　citizen,　we　require　all　our　suppliers　to　treat　animals　humanely.　This　behavior　by　Pilgrim’s　Pride　employees　is　not　only　appalling,　it　violates　the　standards　we　have　in　place　for　all　our　suppliers.”

“We　think　it’s　outrageous　that　PETA　is　unfairly　singling　out　KFC.　They’ve　done　this　because　we’re　the　most　recognized　brand　selling　chicken　today,　and　our　name,　Kentucky　Fried　Chicken,　is　synonymous　with　chicken.　So　we　have　become　their　target.　The　truth　is,　we　sell　about　5　percent　of　all　the　chicken　in　America　today　–　that’s　less　than　the　leading　burger　chain.”

Dedrick　added,　”PETA’s　campaign　distorts　the　truth　and　we　would　ask　the　media　to　report　the　true　facts　of　the　situation.”　

Cho　was　arrested　in　Korea　in　January　this　year　for　a　similar　protest　in　Myeong-dong,　Seoul.　The　difference　then　was　that　she　and　a　cohort　were　topless.　She　was　charged　with　indecent　exposure　and　blocking　traffic.　

She　added　that　the　policeman　who　arrested　her　told　her　that　he　didn’t　want　to,　but　had　to　do　his　job.　”He　said　he　hoped　his　daughters　would　be　like　me　and　stand　up　for　what　they　believe　in.”

As　for　protesting　in　bikinis　and　even　topless,　they　say　it　is　the　best　way　to　attract　the　most　attention.

“It’s　the　MTV　generation.　We　have　to　do　something　flashy　or　we　just　won’t　get　people’s　attention,”　said　Jason　Baker　of　PETA　Asia-Pacific,　and　one　of　the　organizers　of　this　protest.　”If　you　just　hold　up　a　sign　people　just　don’t　care.”　

He　said　that　he　has　been　in　the　cage　before　on　demonstrations　and　attracted　a　lot　of　media　attention.　”But　nothing　like　this,”　he　said,　pointing　at　the　swarm　of　camera　men　and　women.

“We’re　not　here　to　make　a　problem.　We’re　here　to　bring　awareness　to　people　everywhere,”　Cho　said　from　inside　the　cage.

Vallodolid　added,　”This　leads　to　more　hits　on　the　website　–　http://www.peta.org/　–　and　that　leads　to　change.”

The　protest　ended　after　about　an　hour　without　incident.(traceystark@heraldm.com)

By Tracey Stark

They said he wouldn’t go far, but he had proven them all wrong. There he sat in that office with his name on the door, four floors above the manicured courtyard and opposite the stacks, marveling at his reflection in the smoke-stained window.
“I have arrived,” he said, then grinned broadly to his window-self, his bleached-white teeth glowing and fighting for prominence behind sagging rubbery lips. He repeated this every morning since his promotion to Assistant Director of Accounting, Payroll and Pension Department of the Allegheny Electric Co-op.
BUZZZ
“Ms. Lintel, come in here please.”
“Yes, Mr. Bottoms,” a tinny voice replied through the antiquated call box.
 

The door opened and a dour woman of about 50 walked in, ruler straight in posture, gray in demeanor. A smile would surely crack the thin coating of skin covering her angular face. (In certain light, towards the end of a winter’s day, she appeared translucent, Mr. Bottoms had noted.)
 

“I need more, um… notepads and paperclips,” he said, then turned back to the window and resumed smiling at his reflection.
 

Ms. Lintel looked at the stack of notepads on the spare chair and the boxes of paperclips scattered about the otherwise-empty bookshelf, shook her head, and left. She would fill the order by lunch and remain idle until 5 p.m. Then at 5 she would rise to leave for the day and receive one more buzz from Mr. Bottoms. When she went into his office he would invariably say to her, “Good job today, Ms. Lintel. See you bright and early tomorrow, I’m sure.” She would thank him tersely, make an abrupt about-face, and march from the office straight to her car at the far end of the lot.
 

This had been going on for the two months since his move from personnel to accounting, a move precipitated by an accident. Not an accident of paperwork, but an accident involving a filing cabinet and a portion of rotten flooring. (It could be argued that paperwork was involved, as the filing cabinet was full when it fell through the ceiling and crushed his right leg.)
 

The out-of-court settlement was favorable for all involved. Mr. Bottoms was not a greedy man and his request for a promotion to the fourth floor, a small raise, and a parking space among the executives (as well as medical costs, of course) was accepted with a smile and a handshake and delivered before the steel rods were removed from his fractured bones.
 

Through the thin walls Ms. Lintel could hear queer mutterings in different voices. She didn’t ask, but suspected the accident had left him a bit shell-shocked.
 

Back in his office, Mr. Bottoms continued to stare out the window thinking about what it had taken to get here. He worked his way up from the ground floor. Five years in the mail room, and then the little incident with the sorting machine and his pinky finger. Cost him the last digit, but earned him a job in customer service on the second floor. Seven years on and then there was the electrical fire that left him with third degree burns on his left arm. Skin grafts and a promotion to personnel (third floor), followed by his longest stint: 13 years. Lucky 13, he thought. The sagging ceiling should have been a dead giveaway, but everyone seemed to regard it as normal. So he didn’t ask any questions and sat at his desk, two inches closer to the ceiling than everyone else, until the distance closed to zero in a matter of seconds on that fateful Tuesday in October.
 

And now he was in an office devoid of computers, sagging ceilings, windows that opened, and furniture that could fall on him. (The bookshelf was bolted to the wall and his chair had no wheels.)
 

Pondering this he realized it was time for him to knuckle down and get to work. But his responsibilities were vague at best. They told him, “We will utilize your expertise in certain areas of accounting from time to time.” But he had no expertise in any areas of accounting, he thought.
 

He also knew there was little he could do about it this day, so he resumed his self-congratulation and continued to stare out the window.
 

At five he buzzed Ms. Lintel once more into his office.
 

“Good job today, Ms. Lintel. See you bright and early tomorrow, I’m sure,” he said and smiled his oversized mouth at her, and gave her a waving salute with his 4 2/3-fingered right hand.
 

Moments later, when he was sure she was halfway down to the lobby, Mr. Bottoms picked up his briefcase (empty but for half of a sandwich and a few notebooks), and walked to the elevator.
 

To his surprise, Ms. Lintel was still waiting for the elevator car to come pick her up. It was a strange sensation, for both of them, be assured, to stand side by side in silence at the end of a day during which they had spent the better part of eight hours one on each side of the wall, like a confessioner and priest.
 

It was Ms. Lintel who spoke first.
 

“I don’t suppose taking the stairs would be good for your leg, would it?” she asked.
 

Mr. Bottoms was pleased by her sudden interest in him.
 

“Well, I guess I won’t know if I don’t try,” he replied and swagger-limped to the fire stairs door. She hesitantly followed and for a moment looked as if she might smile. (She didn’t.)
 

Upon opening the door he was greeted by crumbling and missing stairs, the stench of mildew and a complete lack of lighting. His first step would have been his last had Ms. Lintel not reached out a boney hand and pulled him back with surprising force.
 

“Oh my,” he said grasping his tie and loosening it an inch. “That would have been a doozy of a fall.”
 

“Yes, and you might have made vice president had you survived it,” she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
 

But Mr. Bottoms only heard the words “vice president” and lost himself in a reverie about a bigger office on a higher floor.
 

“Vice president?’ he asked the air around him.
 

Ms. Lintel followed his gaze and saw that it ended in thin air only a foot or two in front of his face.
 

“I was only being facetious, sir,” she said.
 

“Vice president,” he repeated.
 

Ms. Lintel stepped away from him and toward the elevator. He turned and followed, still lost in those two magical words.
 

“And you would have been the vice president’s executive secretary,” he said to her, his mouth stretched into a frog-like grin.
 

“Indeed,” she said, pondering the implications, and looked toward their small office suite. She noticed the room was still aglow and she shook her head at Mr. Bottom’s absentmindedness. She was taught not to waste electricity, even if you did work at the power company. “Let me just go turn off the lights. I’ll be right back, in case the elevator gets here.”
 

“Of course,” he said and watched her walk through the tall wooden door.
 

A moment later the elevator chimed and the doors opened.
 

“The elevator’s here, Ms. Lintel. I’ll hold it for you,” he shouted, and stepped backward into a starless void.
 

As he plummeted the five floors to the basement, only one thought went through his mind: “Vice president.”