**Disclaimer:** These entries are an exposé on Korean culture as seen through the eyes of myself and myself only. I am usually considered an open-minded person with a fairly objective way of viewing the world and I love meeting, exploring, and interacting with new cultures. Hell, I even acquired a degree in “cultural studies” – whatever that means. That being said, however, certain aspects about my commentary on life here may strike you as extremely offensive if you are Korean (and possibly even if you’re not); for that I truly apologise. One thing I have noticed in my varied travels on this planet is that it is extremely easy to criticise another person’s way of life but 100% impossible to detract your own cultural upbringing from said judgements. The more I travel, the more I realise this truism and the more I am made aware of massive flaws and hypocrisies inherent in my own lifestyle and familiar cultural system. There is no perfect way of leading a human life; we’re all just apes doing regular everyday ape stuff down here – we just happen to wear clothes and talk about it a little more than our ancestral friends. One day, long after we have reached carrying capacity and the wars over usable energy, fresh water, and the last shady spot on the planet have whittled our numbers down to somewhere much closer to sustainable, we’ll all meet in a big auditorium. That day, we will have an open mic night with a representative from each remaining culture on Earth performing and we’ll have a gay ol’ time making jokes about how nutso we all are. What follows is my submission to the World Forum on Post-Apocalyptic Comedy Jams for the Korean entry.
Note – Here’s a general piece of life advice: whenever someone says “I don’t mean to be offensive, but...” it is likely that the next words out of their mouth will be extremely offensive. In their minds, it’s usually OK because they’re aware of this fact. Is it really OK? In my opinion, offensiveness is in the ear of the beholder. Enough pre-apologising. Without further ado, “I don’t mean to be offensive but...”
As I mentioned in passing near the end of a previous post, one thing that keeps striking me about Korea is how much the culture and lifestyle in general truly reflect the Taoist-rooted eum-yang symbol emblazoned on the nation’s flag – that is, the constant interplay between the positive and negative aspects of pretty much everything in life. This is a really cool ancient concept in which you can spend a lot of time losing yourself and your mental energies, as I have been doing recently. (Indeed, if I was forced – at gunpoint – to choose an organised religion on this planet, I would definitely pick an Eastern one).
Perhaps it’s just my perspective of late, but nearly everything I encounter here seems to have both awesome and awful at its very core. Things are simultaneously very kind and very cruel; accepting of difference and extremely racist; cutting edge yet deeply traditional. It’s hard for me to explain this abstract concept, so maybe it’s best if I begin with an example:
Being White in Korea
The Pros (Yang)
Being white in Korea is pretty damn sweet. You’re bigger and stronger than most of the other people you see on the street. (This is true even if you’re a white female here). Little kids smile and wave at you wherever you go (since, I’ve come to realise, your image is synonymous with “teacher” in their minds – a comprehensively well-respected and revered position in this country). People from smaller towns are interested in and intrigued by your very existence, and at least once a month you will have someone come up to you on the street just to smile at you and practice their English. They will ask you where you are from and will take a genuine interest in your life whilst regaling you of that week and a half they spent in Vancouver and how much they loved it. (Note – I have only spent around a day or so in that fair city and it is admittedly pretty nice). Since English is the language of business, urban development, and indeed the future in general in Korea, many people see your round eyes as implications that you are a birth-lucky, intelligent, and trustworthy individual upon first glance. Forget the fact that there is far less crime here than pretty much any Western nation – if you’re white you’re usually prejudged as a pretty friendly, safe, and generally cool person – which is alright by me. It’s easy to make mad money as an English tutor (or so I’m told as I am yet to see any windfall from this fact), and non-prostitute women will fawn over you to no end because of your perceived resemblance to
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QXpZ-PNSA_svQ8D023C1nIjXcQCoNkklTpBiU0dybm-2vpFdBKP3vBrSvBZbskHrNLhzsOEnpw7cXBd6cHLTOhQgvXK3ezeFPqHhscD3c8QrVkgqAyztIiNLBUHEpI74-X-p4qxuIwQ/s320/hartnett.jpg)
On the other hand... (Eum)
Despite this near fetishisation of most things white, there are unarguable disadvantages to being a “waygook” (foreigner) in Korea as well. As a result of the undue attention afforded many white men by Korean women, my ex-pat peer group is also faced with some degree of hostility both subtle and overt by some young Korean men. Even when this grudge is held quietly, it is extremely common to find yourself being stared and sometimes laughed at nearly everywhere you go by Koreans of all ages – a feeling that definitely begins to get on your nerves after a while. It is also true that Korean men do indeed make attempts to look at your penis whilst relieving yourself in public urinals. I had heard (but disbelieved) this to be the case before I came here, and I can assure you it is all too real. Common, in fact. I would say it’s about once a week or so that I find myself bumping elbows with some dude who is overtly and shamelessly leering at my genitals while I try to pee.
If this naked awkwardness was not uncomfortable enough, I have also found myself the victim of more overt racist acts while less-than-fully-clothed. One day about a month ago I had just finishing working out at the YMCA and was still naked as I towelled off outside of the shower. (Don’t worry, this story doesn’t take as unpleasant a turn as you might fear). Three Korean guys came into the room and abruptly stopped talking to each other when they saw me. They then started making angry faces and speaking in more severe tones while still looking at me – clearly talking to each other how much they disliked the fact that I was there. Giving me a wide berth as I got changed, they then snickered something to each other and left the area in which I was standing. The last I saw of them they were heading toward the entrance to the room. Once I had finished up and was ready to leave, I went to the entrance of the locker room myself to get my shoes on. (In Korea, you have to take your shoes off at the entrance to most establishments and a gym locker room is no exception). I was quite unhappy to find that my leather shoes each had a massive puddle of water inside of them. There were no other splashes of water anywhere around the shoes save for a few errant drops in between them. This may well have been the result an unintentional spill by some careless person. However, the marksmanship on my shoes was dead accurate and it was only me and the other 3 clearly-unhappy-at-my-presence-there dudes who were anywhere near them. Taking both of these facts into account, I unfortunately feel as though my soggy kicks were most likely the result of intentional malice on their part. (They were nowhere to be seen after the fact). Whether they did this because I was white, large, English-speaking, naked, or some combination thereof I will never know. It did suck to be actively discriminated against solely on the basis of my race for the first time in my life, though.
Finally, there are also some people here who are akin to the “they took our jobs” brand of misguided racists one can find back in parts of the U.S. and Canada. While at my favourite local bar not too long ago, some random Korean man asked in broken English if he and his wasted friend could join us (again not all that uncommon or usually all that negative of an experience here). We gladly said yes and were making some congenial if awkwardly broken conversation until things went awry. I noticed his hat said “Montreal” across it and I enthusiastically asked him if he had been to my fair city. He answered that he had actually spent 2 years of grad school at McGill earning a degree in engineering of some kind. That was all well and good and I felt a certain affinity for him for a short time. Then, for no particular reason, he (with the assistance of a few bottles of soju) began telling me that I did not belong there. I was, he said, solely there for a short amount of time to extract only what I wanted from the country (money) with no regard for the people or culture there. He insinuated that my life as an English teacher here was solely self-serving and that I was insulting Koreans by treating their country as my own free personal job bank. This is a vaguely truthful if extremely skewed way of looking at things, and I would have normally forgiven such obtuse and unfair judgements about my motives coming from someone as drunk as he was. However, I was none-too-sober myself and felt that the hypocrisy evident in his accusation was just too much to bear. Excuse me sir, but how is what I am doing any different than what you did? Did you not venture to my country for a short time just to earn yourself a degree and then immediately return to Korea to use it with little regard for the people or culture of Québec or Canada? His English was admittedly better than my Korean, but it was still none-too-good on any objective scale and he also didn’t speak a lick of French. Sure, the capital I am earning here is financial capital, but the degree he earned at my alma mater increased his personal human capital and is no less valuable. In my eyes, our respective stints as ex-pats are on precisely equal terms and I still maintain that there is absolutely nothing amoral about either type of journey.
Perhaps I have made too much of these two isolated incidents to be painting a portrait of life as a waygook here as one that is fraught with racism. Indeed, I would have to say that the pros of being white in Korea almost definitely outweigh the cons in the long run. As I said, though, this aspect of life here on the other side of the world is just one of many which can be simultaneously both splendid and awful depending on your viewpoint. I will make an effort to continue my next few posts in a similar vein to flush out this elusive point more completely. Until then, thanks for visiting.
so is the Y a nice place? I wonder if my membership here in the states works there as well..........probably not..im coming to Suji nov. 23......teaching at brighton junior english school....suji a nice place? i have read a lot of your posts and you are quite a writer...enjoyable..im a dot dotter sorry....
ReplyDeleteThe Y is not too shabby, but not anything fancier than what you'd expect; a pool, squash courts, and a small but functional weight room. I don't think your membership would transfer but it doesn't matter since you don't actually need a membership to use it and the drop-in fee is only 2,200 won (!) Suji is a decent town to live and work in and it's pretty easy to commute to cooler places (like Seoul). I've not heard of that Hogwan but there are tonnes in this town. Good luck in the lead-up to your trip and drop me a line once in Korea!
ReplyDeleteThere is a typo in your "who I am" section...just thought I would let you know:)
ReplyDeleteShut up Anthony. I spl jest fine.
ReplyDeleteIt reminds me of certain experiences in my native province. Linquistic prejudice coupled with effusive hospitality and a desire to debate the two solitudes.
ReplyDeleteUncle G
you're welcome (from Anthony)
ReplyDeletebeing a 'waygook' in korea sounds similar in some ways to being a 'mzungu' (white) in Uganda. the waving children. the given reputation as harmless and relatively sage. the difference is ugandan's obsession with money. most people are desperately poor and jobless, but a fair few of them are loaded, and these are the ones who show up in the local tabloids, and are worshipped/hated be=y everyone else. a (wo)man is 'big' or 'small' in this country, depending on what first year classes taught us are overt signs of conspicuous consumption: cars, bulging pockets, and beautiful young lovers (or old ugly ones are still prized, if they happen to be white). i've been proposed to more times than i can count (once, matt brown was asked by a gas station attendant if i was his sister; he affirmed that i was, and went on to hand me over for a dowry of 50 cows, which matt insists was a compliment to my value). taking on a lover always - as i've found out -turns into a sugar mama situation pretty quickly. i'm currently dating a sexy 19 year old who my mom will never know about.
ReplyDeletethe racism isn't so bad. people here generally sneer at NGO-employed idealists, seeing them as poorly-dressed, pretentious self-serving do-gooders, who are in Ugandan eyes good only for making a quick buck with the most common phrase i hear here "will you be my sponsor?"...
so i've become gone corporate just to stick my toe in their eye. i dress to kill, and have made my own debut in the tabloids. my best friend - a ugandan woman from a 'big' family - drives us around in her bright green mercedes named ande. i'm a major shareholder in a small bank, and i'm thinking of leaving the multinational grain-trade/transport/hospiality/coffee-export company i work for to manage an insurance company. i'm well paid and yet i stubbornly learned the local language just so i could bargain down the shop owners.
because being an idealistic white do-gooder is annoying. (and ok, i'm also considering the merits of 'wealth creation' over 'poverty reduction;' i admit, i still donate, anonymously) i'm really working on my tan.