Riding the Korean Wave

First, if you’ve never heard of the Korean Wave, check it out.

Last year I started watching K-dramas. It’s easy enough to keep up on K-pop; it’s playing everywhere you go. Korean TV and movies, on the other hand, aren’t as easily accessible because there are never English subtitles. Luckily for me I have a technologically-inclined friend who would periodically dump new series with subtitle files on my computer. I watched Boys Before Flowers (best), Full House, East of Eden, and some of Fantasy Couple, a take on the 1987 American movie Overboard.

Recently I started watching Sweet Spy. This series features a Korean-American actor, Dennis Joseph O’Neil (known in Korea as Dennis Oh.) Sweet Spy was his first TV show appearance. And god is he a terrible actor. It almost ruins the show for me. So I wondered, how is it this show was still so successful? I think part of it must have to do with Korea’s obsession with all things English. English makes you cool. No joke. In the show, Dennis Oh only speaks English. Second reason:  girls love him. I say “meh.”

Get a load of this acting:

I think this part was supposed to be funny but not because of cheesy acting.

I’ve heard of other Korean-American celebrities in Korea, and before I would have been inclined to dismiss their fame as being earned solely by their glamor status of being from America and speaking English. I thought this when someone mentioned Tiger JK, frontman of Drunken Tiger. A girl I met said she thought he was the best rapper in Korea. “I bet,” I thought. But then I checked him out, and really he’s pretty good. I realized that he was the artist on the music video that had made me stop flipping channels one day and watch. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen/heard here.

Unlike Dennis Oh, Tiger JK was born in Korea and lived there 12 years. I think he has a more interesting history and has made a genuine contribution to Korean culture, namely, rap and hip-hop. The topics he covers are ones that were more or  less taboo back when he arrived in the late 1990’s.

Sample:

Globalization, like it or not, fascinates me. I find it interesting that Koreans raised in some Western country go to or come back to Korea and change it in some way. I think it’s something other Westerners couldn’t do as directly.

 

OTL

OTL. I asked what the Korean word for “frustrated” was and my friend Minney said, “OTL.”

“Oh-di-el?” I repeated. Sounds kind of strange.

“You don’t know OTL! Wow, you should know, OTL…” She pulls out my note cards and draws the letters with eyes in the “O,” so it looks like a person bending over. “Everyone knows this one. ‘Ahh, OTL!’ We don’t use the real word, jowa-jeol hada.”

Ironic that this is frustrating in itself. Konglish can be helpful but at the same time confusing. How would I use this correctly in a sentence? When I want to say “strawberry” do I say “stew-ra-eu-bae-ri” or ddalgi?

Actually, I should have used this newly-learned phrase tonight instead of banging my head on the table because I couldn’t put a sentence together. Here, let the phone dictionary do the talking for me. Shit.

I wonder why it seems to bother me so much when I can’t communicate when there are foreigners who have been here years and they’re just as bad. When they’re around I’m reminded of how bad I am.   I didn’t even notice last night when I went out for a friend’s birthday that I was the only foreigner. I knew everyone, I was always included, and plenty of English.

Tonight, however, there was an obscene amount of people and I found myself zoning out most of the time. I was watching this American-Canadian-whatever guy across from me acting like a fool. And I thought, oh my god, is that me? Or rather, are we both somehow similar because we are both here, we these people, at this place? I imagine this guy back at home would be a bit of a loser, a bit socially awkward yet completely unaware of it. I can always get away with being socially awkward here because people expect that I don’t know what’s going on. Often I don’t. I’m too embarrassed to jump into conversations with Korean, and at the same time I’m embarrassed to use English because I feel like I should be able to use Korean. (Is that a Catch-22?)

At one point tonight everyone I knew had moved around so I was sitting around these people I’d never met before. I was feeling kind of pathetic just sitting there, with everyone pouring drinks and doing cheers and the girl next to me casting me the occasional wary glance. Then I realized that all it takes to get poured a drink is the simple standard, “What is your name? How old are you?” So I asked and like magic I was brought a new glass and some beer. After that I knew it was pulling teeth talking to me but I’m always amazed that it doesn’t seem to bother people. I mean, generally people don’t have the same tolerance for broken, butchered English in the U.S.  Hey, come on man, learn English!

But I can’t judge them. Never again.

 

Pepero Day

I thought Valentine’s Day was coming way too early this year when I saw all the chocolate boxes and gift sets in stores about a week ago. Then I remembered that Pepero day was coming. Some may be familiar with Pocky, the Japanese snack with the cracker stick dipped in chocolate or some other sweet-flavored stuff. Korea has their own version called Pepero. And some snack company marketing masterminds made 11/11 Pepero Day, because if you hold up 2 sticks it’s an 11, right? Yeah, genius.

I don’t know who all you’re supposed to give this stuff to, but I heard usually public school teachers rate much higher than academy teachers. Last year I remember I didn’t get much. Not that that’s so bad…last thing I need.

Today was my first day going in a public school. I haven’t gotten a public school job yet, but my academy, for which I’m a substitute, started a special class at a public school in an effort to recruit kids for their lower-level programs. They called me the day before the class was to begin while I was in Seoul and I asked if I could show up at 1pm. This is a new class and I’ve never taught any lower-level program, so what about training? I asked. Oh yeah, they said.Training, right. They hadn’t even thought of it. Fucking idiots. But I digress.

So I showed up this afternoon after an hour-long subway ride to the edge of the city. I was told they’d be excited to see me because the area doesn’t have many foreigners. I was really self-conscious walking in there. Every kid that saw me would make some exclamation in Korean or English. When I walked in the building I noticed little wooden platforms meant for taking off your shoes and some cubby holes along the walls. Oh, crap. I thought. Do I take my shoes off? I decided that seemed weird so I started to step up inside and had just placed my booted foot on the floor when two kids ran down the stairs and skidded along the floor in their socks. Ok, so shoes off. Interesting. Wish I had worn nicer socks.

I was told to find the English classroom on the 5th floor. It was full of kids and all of them would stop to stare or come running out of the classrooms to yell hello. I wasn’t seeing the classroom and I couldn’t handle the celebrity treatment much longer, so I stopped and asked some kids in Korean where it was. They pointed to the other end of the hall.

There it was empty but I wasn’t alone for long. Kids came in to sweep the floors (all the kids pitch in to clean the school) and soon my desk was surrounded by children, all girls. Who are you? You’re new teacher? What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you teach 6th grade students? I couldn’t keep track of all their names and questions. At one point a boy was running down the hall, slid past my room, then came back and yelled in a booming voice from the doorway. “Oh! You are new teacher?”

“Yes,” I said. How are you?”

“I am fine!  My name is JEONG. JAE. HYUN!”

“I’m Amber. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you! OK see you later!”

So this is the difference between private and public schools. The kids are actually excited to see you. Wow.

I only had 6 students total that day. Most couldn’t speak nearly as well as the kids from the hall, but they were great. And I got 3 whole boxes and a long stick of Pepero. I’m pretty convinced now I need a public school job.

 

In Seoul

Other than my 5 days of training in Seoul for my academy, during which I only had 1 day for sightseeing, I never had the chance to really see the city. I finally made a trip up there. I took the high-speed KTX train Saturday and returned today, Tuesday afternoon. I really wanted an extra day, but I had to come back to Busan for last minute training for a new class because apparently everyone in HR has their heads up their asses. (I’m noticing a trend here.)

I actually only have one friend in Seoul. A former coworker who had moved up there earlier this year. Since he had to work part  time and I figured probably wouldn’t want to spend all his free time with me, I used couchsurfing.com to find some Seoulites willing to show me around.  Let me just say this service can definitely be hit or miss. The first girl was nice,  I thought, but I actually ended up taking her around on the one night where I did have plans and didn’t particularly want her there after awhile. Coincidentally, some of my Busan friends were also going up that weekend to play a show, and invited me to take the train with them. We were supposed to get cheaper tickets, but were short one person. Still, at least I had someone to talk to.

Getting off the train we were greeted with a demonstration for freeing North Koreans. I’d never seen a political demonstration in Busan. Just public concerts. I was glad Jimin and Mu were with me so I didn’t have to navigate the subway lines right away. I hung out with them until my friend Won got off work. We went to Haedong to their venue. It looked like a basement store room in which someone had shoved a small stage and strung up some lights. Actually I’m pretty sure that’s what it was.

sound check

While the Busan guys did their sound check, the Seoul kids started to show up. I started thinking Oh god, this show is going to be way too punk for me. Too much metal and tight pants in one place. One guy had on heavy eyeliner and a leopard-print jacket with ears on it. Seriously. We ended up grabbing Chinese food and then drinking soju with some of these guys. I met Couch and the Spiky Brats. Apparently they’re big in the Seoul punk scene. Not that that means much here. I have to admit though: usually the people are a lot more fun than the music. I could tell from the beginning that I wouldn’t make it through the show.

Originally I had invited a a couchsurfing girl, Woolee, to come to the show, but when I called her to tell her it would be better to meet another time she was already on her way. She seemed uncomfortable much of the night but wouldn’t leave. She was very cute, but I knew I was going out with Won that night. And he is not cute. She also dragged along two white friends, one of which was this frumpy Irish girl who upon meeting me immediately told me she knew the show would be crap and suggested we go to a nice wine bar instead. The other guy wanted to at least check it out. They met my Busan friends, who now I am sure are convinced that I am a bit odd. I don’t have any friends in the city except a random Korean girl I’d never met before that moment and a guy I’m staying with who is not my boyfriend but I assured them had “good manners.” Mu told me, “You have the strangest relations.” If he only knew.

I told the guys I would probably make it back to drink with them after the show. That didn’t happen. I should have known better.

Won said I should bring Woolee over, so after some heated arguing between Won and I, we managed to find his place. There we met his coworker, Mikey. Both of them are gyopo, meaning they have Korean parents but were raised in another country. As the night wore on, they would speak more and more Korean to each other. Especially later when we met Mikey’s non-English speaking girlfriend and her little promiscuous friend. They were always concerned that I was annoyed or bored but I actually got a kick out of it. Although I found out later that they were actually being rather impolite (I did notice a lot of swearing) and I think that made Woolee uncomfortable. Poor girl.

sharing iPod headphones in true Korean style.

We went to a pool room, which I hadn’t experienced yet. It was a smokey, 4th story room of 98% young men. I am not good at pool, but Woolee had never played and didn’t seem particularly thrilled about the idea. “Usually girls don’t play this game!” she said. We convinced her to try though. It seemed weird to me that she was being taken out for a very Korean activity by foreigners in her own country.

I definitely stood out here. Especially because I suck.

Next was a bar. There we met  Mikey’s girlfriend who was scared of me and wouldn’t look me in the eye until she discovered I knew a little Korean. Then she was my best friend and wanted me to be her partner for darts. I also met Mikey’s brother, who was having a hard time finding a job because most schools want to hire white people.  His family had moved from Toronto to Korea to start a new life. I thought that must have been a cool experience for them. To be raised abroad and then taken back to the country your parents knew that you never did. In a way I also felt guilty. I am the reason he has trouble finding a job. I guess I can understand why some people feel like we (non-Korean foreigners) don’t belong in this country. We have no connections with the country, no roots. Is it enough that I like it and try to learn what I can? I don’t know. I feel like I don’t belong sometimes, as much as people have infatuations with foreigners.

Tangent.

After that was a restaurant and soju and games and a mission in the pouring rain to an apartment and a car ride and late-night Chinese take-out. It was the most unhealthy, tiring night I’d had in awhile. The rest of the weekend was fun, except for when I got a migraine. That put me out of commission for quite awhile. I just needed more time. Seoul is gigantic. I wasted a lot of daytime sleeping in. But as with any major city, there are going to be two sides: what you see in the day and what you see at night. With both I was struck by how much faster  everything is. People don’t really pay me a second glance here. I actually liked it way more than I did the first time. People were saying I should move to Seoul and I’m kind of tempted.

 

On the bus

Earlier this week I took the bus home from work and plunked down next to a Korean guy, even though there were open single seats, only because that was where the sudden lurching of the bus had thrown me.

A few minutes in, the guy, who I guessed was a high school student, pulled out an English book: The Swiss Family Robinson, one of those super-abridged versions I know my own academy has used for lower-level students. He appeared to read for maybe 2 minutes then gave up and resumed staring out the window. I considered asking him about the book, and it was then I realized that in my entire 1+ years here I had never struck up a conversation with a stranger. I’m not sure that this is something that Koreans ever do with each other (I’ll have to look into this.) People talk to me all the time just because I’m English practice. Anyway, so, I thought maybe it was time I tried.

“Is that book boring?” I asked.
He looked at me, surprised. “Euuh?”
I repeated the question.
“Ah…uhh…yes-uh.” he managed.
“It looks boring.” I said. “Do you go to academy?”
He responded similarly. I decided not to bother the poor guy anymore. He just looked so nervous. At that point he put the book back in his bag and dug around for something else. He pulled something out but I didn’t notice what it was. A few moments later he turned to me and tapped me on the shoulder. He was holding up a piece of paper. It read:

I cannot speak English very well. So I cannot talk with you. PS this book is very boring.

I laughed and told him not to worry, that I am an English teacher. We ended up getting off at the same stop, and then he actually did try speaking. Turns out he was a university student, and didn’t go to academy now but had before. I could tell that he did want to talk with me, but felt he couldn’t. I do the same thing all the time. I should try to overcome my shyness. Now that I think about it, I actually could have said all the things I said to him in Korean. Not perfectly, obviously, but I don’t judge others’ poor English (unless it’s your native language, then I totally do) so perhaps I should get over my own poor language skills. Maybe my bus rides would be less boring.

 

Sometimes Surreal

A few different people have suggested that I write a book about my experiences living in Korea. I don’t want to be one of those people that travel abroad and think that their experience is somehow unique and are therefore qualified to write good literature. So I’ll just put it out there now: I know I’m not qualified. I’m just bored and somehow want to keep in touch with everyone. And reality. Which brings me to my first topic:

A friend and fellow teacher asked me yesterday, “Do you ever feel like being here is surreal?” I just looked at her for awhile, not sure what she meant.

“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you ever feel like you’re not real? That you don’t exist?”

I thought it was funny because someone else had asked me before I was due to fly back to Korea for my second year if it ever felt like being in the Twilight Zone.

I don’t know that I’ve ever felt not real. But I have had moments where I suddenly stop and think, “Where the hell am I? What am I doing here?” I’ll spend so much time wrapped up in myself, holed up in my apartment, and then I walk outside and I kind of have to shake myself awake sometimes and remind myself where I am.

I’ve also felt like I exist in a different way than everyone else. Here, where everyone occupies their own place in a complex social hierarchy that dictates everything from their behavior to their language, I fall somewhere outside in an undefined gray area. I am a foreigner. What do you do with me? I am not expected to know all the intricacies of Korean society. As a result I’m often treated like I am a small child. A child that needs to be shown how to do absolutely everything and with whom formalities are completely unnecessary. I can’t tell you how many times in a restaurant some older Korean woman has grabbed the utensils and proceeded to mix or cut the food in front of me, usually with no regard for personal space, rambling on about how it tastes better if you do it this way.

Other times I am treated as an amusing oddity. Or something to be wary of. My presence makes people nervous. Often I know they’re talking about the foreigner. I can catch bits and pieces, and I pretend that I’m as ignorant as they think I am. At these times I do feel disconnected from the world. I am separated from them by a huge language and cultural barrier. It is surreal and yeah, sometimes a little sad.

Although I know I’ll never be integrated here, I know I can make more of an effort. I try to say “hello” more often because for whatever reason it seems to eliminate a lot of tension. I try to be respectful even though I fuck up all the time. As an average white American, I am too used to blending in. Maybe my lack of anonymity could be an opportunity. I’m just not sure exactly how yet.