The Incompatible Expat

I've fallen into the habit of stealing my coworker's English newspaper every day in order to complete (butcher) the crossword on my break. Sometimes I'll poke my nose into the nooks and crannies of the actual content of The Korea Herald, which is how I recently came across an article in the "Expat Living" section of the paper--there are enough of us to merit such a section--entitled "What do you like most about Korea?" A top 10 list, essentially, taken from an informal poll of expats such as myself. There aren't many items on the list that I brazenly disagree with, but what startled me when I spotted the article was this: I almost laughed when I read the title. Why? I've been struggling for a few months now with something that, to an outsider, might appear to be a small thing, but has been a source of inner discord for a while:

I don't particularly like Korea. 

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate this country. I don't denounce every aspect of its being. For quite some time, however, the cons have been outweighing the pros in my book. Because of this, I feel that I have failed in some way. I have always thought of myself as an accepting, open person--someone who could enter into another culture without expectations, without an immediate rejection of another way of life. Someone unafraid of venturing out into the world. I feel that I accomplished that when I came here. The problem is holding steady to that mindset. 

I've lived in another culture before. I spent four months in England in the spring of 2007. The duration of my stay was much shorter, and it was in a culture that is viewed as not so "different" from my own, but I still felt England was another world. And I still loved it. 

So why the friction with Korea? There are a lot of explanations, probably. First, I set about looking at those pros, and questioning why they aren't enough. 

Here is the top 10 list from the Herald, with my own additions, of course, and a five-star rating system. It's like a day at the movies:

1. FOOD *****

"Food was the only thing mentioned on every single list, and rightfully so." Rightfully, rightfully so. I have become completely obsessed with Korean food, going a bit stir-crazy if I don't get my daily fill. If I could eat bulgogi slathered in a bit of chili paste, topped with garlic, and plopped into a fresh leaf of lettuce every day for the rest of my life, I would be a happy camper. The food here is healthy, but flavorful, with side-dishes galore, and all at a relatively cheap price. It is astounding that Korean food is not as widely known as its Japanese and Chinese counterparts, though I have been hearing whispers about a Korean food craze emerging in cities like L.A.  

No complaints on this front. 

2. PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION ****

" . . . the urban subway systems, as well as the bus and train networks across the provinces, are cheap, well-run, and easy to use." This is mostly true. Though I live outside of the city itself, I live within a five-minute walk of a subway station and several buses stop right on my street. You can take the subway from Seoul all the way to Incheon, which, for those of you not in the know, is an entirely separate city. The subway, however, closes at midnight, while the doors to bars and clubs in Seoul flap open and shut as late as 7am. Luckily, taxis here are inexpensive and ubiquitous. Busses are a gamble, and if you don't find yourself a seat lickity-split, you will be forced to assume a triple-threat position in order to avoid being hurled into fellow passengers due to the erratic driving techniques the bus drivers employ. 

3. CONVENIENCE ***

" . . . within a five-minute walk of my house are three drycleaners, 20 restaurants, two supermarkets, three produce stands, and so forth: many of them run 24 hours. Restaurants deliver, and even utilities often give same-day service for repairs." Convenience in Korea is undeniable. If you speak Korean. By now, I know enough Korean to survive. I can ask for directions, put in a simple order at a restaurant, and buy things from stores. I can express my nationality. I can berate my students. It's not Korea's fault that I don't speak the language fluently. I made the choice to come here knowing how to say "hello" and "thank you." Culpability aside, convenience diminishes in direct correlation with lack of language, and I am frequently reduced to feeling like an infant who cannot do anything for herself. The innocence of childhood is a hoax. I want to be able to go to the doctor without asking for help. 

4. BEAUTIFUL WOMEN **

"Beautiful women, everywhere you look, ranked next on the list, possibly because many of the respondents were male. For both genders, one of my first impressions of Seoul was surprise at how well everyone took care of their appearance." It is almost troubling how much importance people place on appearance in Korea. Certainly, no one should be admonished for taking care of their hygiene. Sometimes I really appreciate the good grooming of the citizens of Seoul. Occasionally it even inspires me to look like I didn't leap out of bed 20 minutes before I need to be somewhere. And yet, there is something disturbing about the ever-present heels on the women, the perfectly combed hair of the men. Koreans get surgery to make their eyes look more "western." It's like Pleasantville, and it only adds to the homogeneity of an already homogeneous culture. I miss the variety of a torn pair of jeans, of a tangle of hair. Put away those compacts for a few minutes, ladies. Step away from the reflection.

5. JIMJILBANG AND SAUNA ***

" . . . cheap, amazingly relaxing, loaded with a day's worth of easygoing activities." While I have yet to venture into these relaxation centers and public bath houses in Korea, I did take advantage of the Japanese version--the onsen--whilst in Tokyo. Being a prudish American, it was startling to walk around in a room with so many naked strangers, but taking a dip in a pool of scalding hot water leaves even your bones feeling relaxed. I have plans to visit one of these legendary hubs of Korean culture, but again, the whole "not being Korean, not speaking Korean" thing is an obstacle. Where are these jimjilbang and saunas? Like so many destinations in Korea, I have a hunch they are hidden inside the boxes upon boxes of buildings that make up this metropolis. 

6. PEOPLE **

" . . . the surprising, unexpected encounters, the energy, the attitude, the relationships, the variety and the sheer number of people in Korea keep the country interesting and fun." Maybe it's me. I mean, really. Maybe it's me. And, not to be redundant, but maybe it's the language barrier. But I have had an extremely difficult time finding Koreans that I can relate to. It doesn't help that I don't meet many Koreans that I can have a real conversation with. I live in a poorer area, and few people speak English here. They can't help it; I can't help it. And yet, where is this energy? This attitude? I feel a distinct lack of these things here--I long for vibrancy and passion; I encounter stoicism and restraint. Again, I feel that I have failed in not locating these aspects of Korean culture. 

7. OLD VS. NEW ***

"Korea's long history, especially held up next to modern Korea's amazingly quick social changes, combine to create an intriguing country where there's always more to learn." The culture here is complicated; there is a lot built in that would take years for an outsider to learn. Every day I learn new details. One minute I will be strolling past skyscrapers, and the next I'll find myself standing in front of a Buddhist temple, incense burning, worshippers prostrate on the floor. 

8. LANDSCAPE **

" . . . the mountains, the seasons, the lakes, the plant life, the countryside and especially the hiking trails are great." If you've been following this blog for a while, you know my opinion of Seoul's landscape. It is an ugly wasteland that rivals the writings of T. S. Eliot. Admittedly, I have not had a chance to explore the countryside, though glimpses of it seem promising. I have ambitions to go hiking at some point and briefly escape this concrete jungle. The spring cherry blossoms really are lovely, though. 

9. SAFETY *****

" Most expats rarely feel threatened or targeted by criminals during their time here . . . " I feel comfortable walking down dark alleyways at night. In fact, I live in a dark alleyway. I have never once felt the prospect of danger from another person the entire time I have been in Korea. That's quite an accomplishment. I don't worry about leaving my purse unattended in a corner while I dance with my friends at a club. I'm not concerned about pickpockets on the subway. Dozens of children walk the streets completely unattended. It's such a non-issue here that even thinking about it seems silly. 

10. INTERNET ****

"Amazingly fast, amazingly cheap, amazingly available, amazingly everywhere." One convenience that I don't need to speak Korean to enjoy. There are approximately two PC bangs (internet rooms) per block in Korea. 'Nuff said. 

Even as I typed up this list, I found myself feeling some affection for Korea. I'm likely in for a big dose of reverse culture shock when I return to the states. I will probably miss things that seem insignificant currently--the free snacks provided at bars, the gamble of whether or not a public bathroom will be a squatter or a western toilet. 

Yet I feel a bit like Henry Higgins at the end of My Fair Lady when he sings "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face." I've grown accustomed to Korea's face. What a cop-out, though, Henry. Is that all you can say about Eliza by the end of the musical? Well, it's all I can say about Korea at this point. You never know. We could be in for an unexpected reprise in the coming months. 

Riddle Me Rodents

Today, while headed to class, I noticed a gaggle of students gathered around a girl whose hands were clapped together like a homo sapien clam. The children waved me over, and when I was in position, the girl sprung open her hands to reveal . . . 

A TINY HAMSTER. 

It looked a lot like this:

The workings of the Korean student mind are vast and mysterious.

3, 2, 1 . . . Konglish Time!

Konglish: n. the use of English words (or words derived from English words) in a Korean context. 

In an attempt to draw a line between Korean chit-chat and English studies, I tend to shout out a countdown at the beginning of class to warn my students of the imminent approach of "English time." Some of my lower level classes, however, decided to more accurately change the countdown to "3, 2, 1 . . . Konglish time!" in yet another successful attempt to undermine my authority. 

What is Konglish?

The phenomenon of Konglish is so omnipresent in South Korea that the country would almost be unrecognizable without it. Imagine San Francisco without the Golden Gate Bridge. Rome lacking the Colosseum. Giza sans pyramids. 

For South Korea, Konglish acts as a verbal equivalent of these architectural beacons of culture, shining an amusing, if sometimes garish, light onto a society that obsesses over English but regularly twists it into puzzling incarnations. 

Like any language, the best way to learn Konglish is to experience it. Enough students ask to see your "hen-du-pone" and you eventually realize they'd like to take a look at your cell phone (see: handphone). A taxi driver will refuse to take you to an apartment, but will gladly shuttle you to your "apaht-uh."  In the sweltering summer, air conditioning will do you no good, but "ay-oh-kon" will work wonders. 

T-shirts bear slogans such as "I am son of bambino" and department store windows display sentiments like, "I wish you were in Heaven" (think about the implications of that one for a second). 

The magic of the internet even provides ways in which to test your knowledge of Konglish. Take this quiz and see how well you fare. I scored 100%. KING ME! 

A prime example of Konglish dropped into my hands recently when one of my students brought me a gift after traveling to Thailand [sidenote: giftgiving is rampant in this country, and it is common to give someone a small gift to celebrate occasions both great and small]. Oddly enough, the gift was most certainly made in Korea, and (to my delight) is congested with Konglish. 

Take a look at the cover:

Yes, the images are backwards, I realize this. It is your mission to hold a mirror up to your computer screen to decode the messages. Interactive blog time! See, it is not just a diary (planner), but, rather, a "romantic" diary. Perhaps the bound equivalent of a love potion? 

Its pages hold romantic secrets, such as: 

"I like khaki colors, Romantic Khaki"

and

"I love you, Smile Bluish Green"

A close examination of a map tucked into the back pages also provides some interesting results:

Not only is Greenland stationed just west of North America, but China has turned into Korea! The advancements in geography in this part of the world, I tell you . . . 

The biggest problem with Konglish is that it gets in your head and stays there like an 80s pop song. I find myself responding to my students' Konglish with Konglish of my very own:

-Erin teacher tired?

-No! Erin teacher very happy sun day! 

These words really do pour out of my mouth involuntarily at times. 

On an almost completely unrelated note, here is a picture of my tiger hat: 

Probably one of the best purchases I have ever made. Note the attached paws. Korean children run around in these as if attempting to transform into the wild beasts that lurk deep inside.