Why are there Korean-Korean couples and foreigner-foreigner couples, but not many Korean-foreigner couples in Korea? Here's one aspect of it as conversed with a friend earlier:
Most of the Americans I've talked to like to know what goes on in their girlfriend's or boyfriend's life. They like to meet his/her friends and they like knowing what he/she does on a daily basis. It's like keeping tabs. Jealous boyfriends/girlfriends verge on stalking and know who their significant other is with at all times and where. Americans want to know about the exes and other things about their boyfriend's or girlfriend's past.
Most of the Koreans I've talked to don't want to know about exes. They don't want to know about opposite-sex friends. They would rather just not think about their boyfriend/girlfriend being with any other members of the opposite sex, ever. I have heard some Koreans say they would rather be lied to than know what their boyfriend/girlfriend has done or does that would upset them. Some Koreans don't think this way at all, as my friend just pointed out. Haha. I guess I shouldn't make generalizations!
On March 26, 2009, I left my life in America and moved to South Korea. I put my worldly possessions into two suitcases and a backpack and got on a plane. On December 8, 2012, I returned not to my hometown of Detroit, but to Silicon Valley, California, where I married an Indian engineer. In 2020, I divorced and moved to southern California. In this blog are my successes, failures, and observations of life in different cultures.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Fame
In America, if you see 100 people and 5 are not white (the majority race), you think, "there are a lot of white people here." In Korea, if there are 100 people and 5 are not Korean, you think, "why are there so many foreigners here?"
At first it was kind of fun. I'm kind of a celebrity here without even trying. Everyone thinks I'm beautiful and is fascinated by me. People like to give me free things and gifts. Strangers say "hello" to me on the street or speak to me in English on the subway sometimes. A large number of my friends and students say I'm the first or maybe second foreigner they've ever talked to. They're shy and excited and they have a million questions. My guy friends make jokes about dating me and some of them ask periodically if I have a boyfriend or am looking for one. There's a waiting list at this point.
Girls whisper about me and guys stare. When I'm with a Korean friend speaking English, we might as well have a flashing neon sign above us saying, "UNIQUE SPECTACLE" or "LOOK SHE'S AMERICAN~GUESS IF (S)HE'S KOREAN-BORN OR NOT" or one of a million other things Korean think about us. Men tend to think, based on movies and TV dramas, that I'm easy, and I've even been asked for sex on a first meeting. Old people sometimes gape in horror if I'm with a guy. I still remember the incident with the crazy old man in 까치산 (Ggachisan) who grabbed my boob and kissed my cheek. Someone I originally met for a job interview ended up trying to kiss me. Even in my own home, if I cook something in the kitchen and there are other people there, it's extremely awkward. I don't know if I should say something or not, and although the people are usually kind, I have a strange feeling that they are judging me.
I'm becoming narcissistic and paranoid, and I'm developing illusions of reference. If I look around, I can tell that not EVERYONE is staring at me. But, I still THINK they are. Sometimes I strut my stuff and drink in the attention, real or perceived. Some days I just wish they would all go away or that I could find a place to be alone and scream and release some steam.
I'm gradually losing weight. I bought jeans that were too tight in America in anticipation of this (public transportation, healthier food). Now I need a belt to wear those jeans. My legs are becoming more toned and less jiggly. I'll admit readily that I'm not a skinny person, but I might finally get to know what being thin feels like while living in Korea. After a lifetime of being average, the extra attention here and the fact that looking at myself in the mirror is becoming more satisfying is really inflating my ego. I see this and I hate it. I love myself and I hate myself at the same time. I feel guilty that I'm enjoying the result of West worship in Korea. I've always wanted to be admired, but I wanted to earn it. Here I get a million extra points just because I'm American.
When I do see other foreigners, it's strange to me now. They look so awkward and out of place. The men are usually not handsome, and the women are usually not beautiful. Since I prefer Korean men over western men anyway, most foreign men here look just plain ugly to me. But many of them have beautiful Korean girlfriends, because Korean girls generally LOVE men who are fluent in English. Western women don't often accept Korean boyfriends. I know it's easy to get a Korean boyfriend as a Western woman, but it's much more unusual to see a Korean man-Western woman couple than it is to see a Western man-Korean woman couple. This could have to do with women valuing conversation more than men, thus making it difficult to find a good boyfriend whose first language is different. Maybe it has to do with the size stereotypes. It could be because Koreans usualy have smaller bodies and muscles and much less confidence than Westerners. This goes for both men and women. In women, small and shy is almost universally desirable, whereas in men, strong and confident is desirable. Therefore, the women from a small race and shy culture are sought after, but the men are shunned. Usually if I see another foreign women with a boyfriend here, the boyfriend is also a foreigner. Remember, the night I broke my nose I talked to a Russian girl who likes black men. I think Western men also become narcissistic after a while here, as most of the ones I've met are players. They can't really speak Korean, just enough to get a girl in bed where they say they can speak a "universal language" with those cute Korean girls. There's a reason all of my friends here are Koreans.
All in all, I'm becoming very self-conscious. I find myself looking around for mirrors in public, of which there are many compared to in America. Koreans primp a lot, both men and women. I wonder if people are staring at my large feet or my imperfect skin and judging the entire western world by my actions and clothes. I'm extra embarrassed when I do something clumsy, which as those of you who know me well can attest to, is pretty often. I try to look sexy, cute, and/or sophisticated at all times and I'm always trying to look like I know what I'm doing, even if I don't. You can imagine I make a fool of myself pretty often. There are language barrier issues, culture differences, the differences between living in suburbs like I have for my entire life and living in a big city in which half the population of Korea is crammed. On top of all that, I'm a 21-year-old girl living alone in an unfamiliar country with no real goals or purpose and no clue who I am. I'm at the finding-out-who-I-am stage of my life and I have no anchor to help me keep my feet on the ground. I'm drifting in white-water rapids, and the days here are the slowest I've ever felt but at the same time they're going by more quickly than ever before. There are so many things I need to do, so many things I want to do, so many things I forget to do.
Life is completely overwhelming and I really don't know how I would stay afloat without having a place to play piano. I'm lucky I have some hobby that's so close to my heart that I can take anywhere. Now I've been playing piano for 11 years and composing music is my catharsis. But even in the music academy where I practice, I'm always wondering if people are judging me because I'm the only foreigner and the rooms aren't 100% soundproof and I sing. I know I' m a good singer but what if they're listening and picking out every slightly wrong note and ever time my voice cracks, and what if while I'm learning a song they're mocking how little talent I have and thinking Americans must be terrible at playing music? What if they don't like the songs I choose to play, or worse yet, what if they hate the songs I compose? What if they secretly think I'm strange and they talk about me where I can't hear them. Well, they'd be talking in Korean so I wouldn't understand them anyway. When I hear them talking, I always wonder if it's about me.
Whenever I hear people talking, I always wonder if it's about me. Sometimes I know it is because of body language or the few words I understand. Mostly it's neutral or good, I think. For instance, I hear the phrase "English teacher" a lot, and one of the first words I learned here because I hear it so much is "beautiful". But my Korean vocabulary is very limited, especially in terms of negative words. I don't know the word for ugly, so I would never know if someone said it. This heightens my anxiety because if they're saying good things, I feel like a red carpet celebrity. If they're saying bad things, I feel like a front page criminal. I always feel like a monkey on display at the zoo.
When the attention first bothered me, I tuned it out easily and got on with my life. Now I make a conscious effort not to look at people. If I meet someone's eyes, I have a moment of terror. I don't completely know why terror is the feeling I get. I have a constant anxiety and a fear of people following me. I'm even afraid to talk to people because I'm sure I'll understand enough to prove I can speak Korean, but not enough to understand what they're actually saying. That's worse than understanding nothing because I feel like a child or an idiot. If I understand nothing, the Korean is the one who feels stupid because he/she can't speak English, which is becoming a class distinction in Korea. The only thing I hate more than being frustrated by the language barrier is the thought that people are assuming I'm a tourist. I try to speak Korean even if I know the person can speak English because I don't want to be seen as a tourist. That nullifies my existence here. I'm trying to make Korea my home. I can't be a tourist and a resident at the same time.
The funny thing is... I hate it more when people don't pay attention to me than when they do. It makes me indignant. Like, HEY I'm special~ you should be admiring me!! You should want to sit next to me on the bus or the subway so that you can brag about it to your friends later!! Because the worst thing is when people see me briefly and then purposely avoid me. I've seen people stand or walk to the other side of the subway to find a seat rather than sit next to me. On the bus, one woman even put her purse on the empty seat next to her as I got on to prevent me from sitting next to her. Do they hate me or are they just afraid? A bank teller admitted that he was afraid when I approached his desk because he would have to speak English. His English was really, really good. He had no reason to be afraid. Some of my friends say that some people hate Westerners and want all of us to leave, especially Americans. It's a very complicated political and cultural situation that I don't completely understand. I came here curious about how Koreans think of Japan and Japanese people, but I find myself being an object of so many different emotions and judgments. Whether I like it or not, I will never fit in here.
I just want to scream "I'M A HUMAN TOO~!!! PLEASE JUST TREAT ME LIKE YOU TREAT EVERYONE ELSE!!!"
As a white, middle-class, suburban-raised girl, being a minority (minority feels like an understatement~ more like rarity) is completely new to me. I had many foreign friends in America and sometimes hung out in groups that were 100% Asian except for me, but this is something I can't compare to any other experience in my life. To every minority member in the world, I'm sorry for the way you are treated.
Hopefully I can get past this stage soon. I know I will find a comfort zone in my mental assessment of my daily life eventually. At this point I actually sometimes go out for no real reason except that I crave the attention. I'll buy one thing at the convenience store just to see the look on the cashier's face when I say something in Korean. I'm testing the boundaries. I'm playing a game. I'm experimenting on society. They're doing the same to me. The future should be interesting.
At first it was kind of fun. I'm kind of a celebrity here without even trying. Everyone thinks I'm beautiful and is fascinated by me. People like to give me free things and gifts. Strangers say "hello" to me on the street or speak to me in English on the subway sometimes. A large number of my friends and students say I'm the first or maybe second foreigner they've ever talked to. They're shy and excited and they have a million questions. My guy friends make jokes about dating me and some of them ask periodically if I have a boyfriend or am looking for one. There's a waiting list at this point.
Girls whisper about me and guys stare. When I'm with a Korean friend speaking English, we might as well have a flashing neon sign above us saying, "UNIQUE SPECTACLE" or "LOOK SHE'S AMERICAN~GUESS IF (S)HE'S KOREAN-BORN OR NOT" or one of a million other things Korean think about us. Men tend to think, based on movies and TV dramas, that I'm easy, and I've even been asked for sex on a first meeting. Old people sometimes gape in horror if I'm with a guy. I still remember the incident with the crazy old man in 까치산 (Ggachisan) who grabbed my boob and kissed my cheek. Someone I originally met for a job interview ended up trying to kiss me. Even in my own home, if I cook something in the kitchen and there are other people there, it's extremely awkward. I don't know if I should say something or not, and although the people are usually kind, I have a strange feeling that they are judging me.
I'm becoming narcissistic and paranoid, and I'm developing illusions of reference. If I look around, I can tell that not EVERYONE is staring at me. But, I still THINK they are. Sometimes I strut my stuff and drink in the attention, real or perceived. Some days I just wish they would all go away or that I could find a place to be alone and scream and release some steam.
I'm gradually losing weight. I bought jeans that were too tight in America in anticipation of this (public transportation, healthier food). Now I need a belt to wear those jeans. My legs are becoming more toned and less jiggly. I'll admit readily that I'm not a skinny person, but I might finally get to know what being thin feels like while living in Korea. After a lifetime of being average, the extra attention here and the fact that looking at myself in the mirror is becoming more satisfying is really inflating my ego. I see this and I hate it. I love myself and I hate myself at the same time. I feel guilty that I'm enjoying the result of West worship in Korea. I've always wanted to be admired, but I wanted to earn it. Here I get a million extra points just because I'm American.
When I do see other foreigners, it's strange to me now. They look so awkward and out of place. The men are usually not handsome, and the women are usually not beautiful. Since I prefer Korean men over western men anyway, most foreign men here look just plain ugly to me. But many of them have beautiful Korean girlfriends, because Korean girls generally LOVE men who are fluent in English. Western women don't often accept Korean boyfriends. I know it's easy to get a Korean boyfriend as a Western woman, but it's much more unusual to see a Korean man-Western woman couple than it is to see a Western man-Korean woman couple. This could have to do with women valuing conversation more than men, thus making it difficult to find a good boyfriend whose first language is different. Maybe it has to do with the size stereotypes. It could be because Koreans usualy have smaller bodies and muscles and much less confidence than Westerners. This goes for both men and women. In women, small and shy is almost universally desirable, whereas in men, strong and confident is desirable. Therefore, the women from a small race and shy culture are sought after, but the men are shunned. Usually if I see another foreign women with a boyfriend here, the boyfriend is also a foreigner. Remember, the night I broke my nose I talked to a Russian girl who likes black men. I think Western men also become narcissistic after a while here, as most of the ones I've met are players. They can't really speak Korean, just enough to get a girl in bed where they say they can speak a "universal language" with those cute Korean girls. There's a reason all of my friends here are Koreans.
All in all, I'm becoming very self-conscious. I find myself looking around for mirrors in public, of which there are many compared to in America. Koreans primp a lot, both men and women. I wonder if people are staring at my large feet or my imperfect skin and judging the entire western world by my actions and clothes. I'm extra embarrassed when I do something clumsy, which as those of you who know me well can attest to, is pretty often. I try to look sexy, cute, and/or sophisticated at all times and I'm always trying to look like I know what I'm doing, even if I don't. You can imagine I make a fool of myself pretty often. There are language barrier issues, culture differences, the differences between living in suburbs like I have for my entire life and living in a big city in which half the population of Korea is crammed. On top of all that, I'm a 21-year-old girl living alone in an unfamiliar country with no real goals or purpose and no clue who I am. I'm at the finding-out-who-I-am stage of my life and I have no anchor to help me keep my feet on the ground. I'm drifting in white-water rapids, and the days here are the slowest I've ever felt but at the same time they're going by more quickly than ever before. There are so many things I need to do, so many things I want to do, so many things I forget to do.
Life is completely overwhelming and I really don't know how I would stay afloat without having a place to play piano. I'm lucky I have some hobby that's so close to my heart that I can take anywhere. Now I've been playing piano for 11 years and composing music is my catharsis. But even in the music academy where I practice, I'm always wondering if people are judging me because I'm the only foreigner and the rooms aren't 100% soundproof and I sing. I know I' m a good singer but what if they're listening and picking out every slightly wrong note and ever time my voice cracks, and what if while I'm learning a song they're mocking how little talent I have and thinking Americans must be terrible at playing music? What if they don't like the songs I choose to play, or worse yet, what if they hate the songs I compose? What if they secretly think I'm strange and they talk about me where I can't hear them. Well, they'd be talking in Korean so I wouldn't understand them anyway. When I hear them talking, I always wonder if it's about me.
Whenever I hear people talking, I always wonder if it's about me. Sometimes I know it is because of body language or the few words I understand. Mostly it's neutral or good, I think. For instance, I hear the phrase "English teacher" a lot, and one of the first words I learned here because I hear it so much is "beautiful". But my Korean vocabulary is very limited, especially in terms of negative words. I don't know the word for ugly, so I would never know if someone said it. This heightens my anxiety because if they're saying good things, I feel like a red carpet celebrity. If they're saying bad things, I feel like a front page criminal. I always feel like a monkey on display at the zoo.
When the attention first bothered me, I tuned it out easily and got on with my life. Now I make a conscious effort not to look at people. If I meet someone's eyes, I have a moment of terror. I don't completely know why terror is the feeling I get. I have a constant anxiety and a fear of people following me. I'm even afraid to talk to people because I'm sure I'll understand enough to prove I can speak Korean, but not enough to understand what they're actually saying. That's worse than understanding nothing because I feel like a child or an idiot. If I understand nothing, the Korean is the one who feels stupid because he/she can't speak English, which is becoming a class distinction in Korea. The only thing I hate more than being frustrated by the language barrier is the thought that people are assuming I'm a tourist. I try to speak Korean even if I know the person can speak English because I don't want to be seen as a tourist. That nullifies my existence here. I'm trying to make Korea my home. I can't be a tourist and a resident at the same time.
The funny thing is... I hate it more when people don't pay attention to me than when they do. It makes me indignant. Like, HEY I'm special~ you should be admiring me!! You should want to sit next to me on the bus or the subway so that you can brag about it to your friends later!! Because the worst thing is when people see me briefly and then purposely avoid me. I've seen people stand or walk to the other side of the subway to find a seat rather than sit next to me. On the bus, one woman even put her purse on the empty seat next to her as I got on to prevent me from sitting next to her. Do they hate me or are they just afraid? A bank teller admitted that he was afraid when I approached his desk because he would have to speak English. His English was really, really good. He had no reason to be afraid. Some of my friends say that some people hate Westerners and want all of us to leave, especially Americans. It's a very complicated political and cultural situation that I don't completely understand. I came here curious about how Koreans think of Japan and Japanese people, but I find myself being an object of so many different emotions and judgments. Whether I like it or not, I will never fit in here.
I just want to scream "I'M A HUMAN TOO~!!! PLEASE JUST TREAT ME LIKE YOU TREAT EVERYONE ELSE!!!"
As a white, middle-class, suburban-raised girl, being a minority (minority feels like an understatement~ more like rarity) is completely new to me. I had many foreign friends in America and sometimes hung out in groups that were 100% Asian except for me, but this is something I can't compare to any other experience in my life. To every minority member in the world, I'm sorry for the way you are treated.
Hopefully I can get past this stage soon. I know I will find a comfort zone in my mental assessment of my daily life eventually. At this point I actually sometimes go out for no real reason except that I crave the attention. I'll buy one thing at the convenience store just to see the look on the cashier's face when I say something in Korean. I'm testing the boundaries. I'm playing a game. I'm experimenting on society. They're doing the same to me. The future should be interesting.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Life Lessons
So, I was strongly debating whether to admit this or not, hence the long delay in recounting this sad tale. But, there's a good chance I will have a scar from it so I won't be able to keep it a secret from you all forever.
Last Saturday (6/27) was the three-month anniversary of my move to Korea. It was a very special day for me because three months is a quarter of a year, and I had to go to Japan and come back just to reach that day. So, I originally planned to invite a group of my friends who had never met each other before to 강남 (Kangnam, one of the social hot spots in Seoul) for a night of eating, drinking, and talking to celebrate. I told my friend this during our Japan trip, and he said that his friends had something planned for Saturday evening/night and I should cancel my plans and just go hang out with his friends instead. Reluctantly, I found a compromise and changed my plans to lunch so that I could do both things. Then, on Friday (the 26th), he said he just plain didn't want to go because meeting my other friends would be uncomfortable for him. Anyway, my lunch bombed because of the plan change and only one friend could come. Because it was a female friend and only one, my guy friend agreed to come, later, with his friend. They were both cold to my friend and she was very uncomfortable, despite my best efforts to lighten the mood. So my little anniversary celebration was a complete bust.
When we were parting ways to head home, I was expecting to go meet those other friends for food, drinking, and overall merriment. I was informed that the plan was canceled. I changed my plans on MY special day for them, had a terrible celebration, and after all that, those plans that had caused me so much trouble were canceled. On top of that, I had just learned from an email from my mother that one of the family cats who was my brother's closest companion, died at the age of 14 (I think). Also, it was nearing my grandmother's birthday (July 3rd), and it's only been about a year since she passed away. I was NOT having a good day. So I begged my friend to hang out with me at least a little that night to make up for ruining my day. The bars and clubs in 서현 (Seohyeon) are open until 5 or 6am, when you can take the first bus or train home. He finally agreed to stay until midnight and take the last train home. We got some food and drank some 소주 (Soju, Korean sake) and when he left I went to my room mildly drunk and prepared to crawl into bed, miserable.
At this point, my acquaintance whom I had recently me through another acquaintance called to say she was in 홍대 (Hongdae, another social hot spot on the other side of Seoul) with her friends and she really wanted me to meet her friend who also composes piano music. I said it was impossible because the buses and subway were closed and I couldn't afford a taxi. She said she would pay for the taxi and all I had to do was hand the driver the phone and she would give him directions.
About an hour and a half later, I arrived in 홍대 (Hongdae). She paid the taxi driver and bought me a beer, and we walked to a nearby club. I had met one of her friends before, so we talked a little bit, and I talked to the friend she wanted me to meet. I was proud of myself for using Korean so much because they couldn't speak English well. I had some fun dancing with her a little, and then they started buying rounds of shots. In Korea, if someone older than you gives you a drink or some food, you must consume it. It is your cultural obligation. Almost all of my friends are older than me, including this group. I won't say I protested... I was having a REALLY bad day. The next thing I remember is people helping me up because I had fallen on my face on the ground. Then I was sitting in the entryway with all of them around me and a cool, damp cloth in my hand, trying to stop the bleeding on my nose, watching as there were more and more circles of blood on the white cloth each time I checked to see if the bleeding had stopped. I talked to a Russian girl who was being checked out by a black guy. She said she liked black guys, so I told her to talk to the one checking her out. This was after she asked if I was okay and I responded that I'm clumsy even when sober and I'd be fine. Apparently I'm an articulate drunk.
My friend said that she had called one of my friends and that he was coming to get me. He lived in 수지 (Suji), which is about 2 hours away from 홍대 (Hongdae). He had to take a taxi because of the time. I don't even know how much it cost him to come to my rescue, but it had to have been expensive. In the meantime, my friend and her two friends took me to a restaurant, and I vaguely remember trying to eat something and make conversation a little. When my friend finally arrived, he glared at my friend, and took me out of the building. He frantically looked around for a hospital, but there weren't any, so we got into a taxi and went to the nearest hospital with an open emergency room.
We ended up at 신촌연세병원 (Sinchon Younse Hospital, i think was their odd English spelling). They took three or four x-rays, put three stitches in my nose, and gave me an antibiotic injection in my hip. The whole time, everything was in Korean, I was in pain and exhausted, and I was so ashamed of my stupidity. Luckily I was still drunk enough, around 5am, to experience the wonderfully pain-numbing effects of alcohol, because I didn't get any anesthetic or numbing injection for my stitches. I just concentrated on my friend's voice as he told me what they wanted me to do in English. The total cost of that emergency room visit, as I don't have any insurance in Korea, was 141,970 won. With the current exchange rate, that's about $112. Each of three subsequent check-up visits has been 18,880 won, or about $15, including a private consultation with a doctor, re-bandaging, and another injection. My three thrice-daily medications which I took for a week totaled about $20~$25. I got my stitches taken out on Saturday and I have to return again this Friday. The bone should take about a month total to heal, and is well aligned and only barely broken so surgery is not necessary. The swelling has gone down, and I can finally remove the bandage and wash my face tomorrow.
So here are my life lessons:
1. When upset, drinking is only a good answer if you are with people you can trust.
2. Don't trust anyone you met through a gangster, even if he's only a part-time gangster now.
3. Never go somewhere far away in the middle of the night, especially to meet someone you barely know.
4. Appreciate anyone who will take a 2-hour taxi ride in the wee hours of the morning to come to your rescue and who apologizes that he can't afford to pay your hospital bill.
5. Korean health care is cheap and efficient; mock American health care in comparison.
6. Korean health care is maybe a little less sterile and confidential than American health care (three patients to a consultation room, less use of gloves, although still very sterile)
7. Be wary of girls. (I already knew this one, but was trying to cultivate female friendships).
8. Living alone is lonely. I don't really know what to do about that right now.
9. Emergencies in another country are perhaps the scariest thing in the world. Without my friend, I don't know what I would have done. Note: the friend I was out with did NOT take me to a hospital. She waited 2 hours for my other friend while eating and drinking more with her friends, as I sat next to her with a gash in my nose and dried blood on my face. It took me three days to get all of the dried blood out of my nose with Q-tips, and somehow I had ended up with blood on my forehead and up to my hairline. I can't imagine how bad I looked when my friend rushed me out of the restaurant.
10. Never make the same mistake twice. I promise myself and my readers I will never again drink so much that I don't remember what happened the next day. This was the first and the last time. Many people black out every time they drink and have never been injured. I have no such luck and no intention of testing my bad luck any further.
Anyway, on a lighter note, some observations made on a rainy day:
1. On the bus, a young woman was literally drying herself from head to toe, including inside her shoes, with tissues.
2. A man with prominent tattoos (extremely rebellious in Korean culture) was nonchalantly carrying a bright purple umbrella. Purple is just a color here. There is no gay connotation.
3. Many people use umbrellas to protect against a light mist.
4. Many buildings have an apparatus that holds a long, thin plastic bag that you put your umbrella in to prevent the floors from getting too wet. On a rainy day, exits of large buildings are littered with these plastic bags. It seems strange to me because Korean culture is very conservation- and recycling-focused. Even fast food restaurants separate trash into liquid, paper, plastic, and other, and there is a little tray for unused condiments and such.
Last Saturday (6/27) was the three-month anniversary of my move to Korea. It was a very special day for me because three months is a quarter of a year, and I had to go to Japan and come back just to reach that day. So, I originally planned to invite a group of my friends who had never met each other before to 강남 (Kangnam, one of the social hot spots in Seoul) for a night of eating, drinking, and talking to celebrate. I told my friend this during our Japan trip, and he said that his friends had something planned for Saturday evening/night and I should cancel my plans and just go hang out with his friends instead. Reluctantly, I found a compromise and changed my plans to lunch so that I could do both things. Then, on Friday (the 26th), he said he just plain didn't want to go because meeting my other friends would be uncomfortable for him. Anyway, my lunch bombed because of the plan change and only one friend could come. Because it was a female friend and only one, my guy friend agreed to come, later, with his friend. They were both cold to my friend and she was very uncomfortable, despite my best efforts to lighten the mood. So my little anniversary celebration was a complete bust.
When we were parting ways to head home, I was expecting to go meet those other friends for food, drinking, and overall merriment. I was informed that the plan was canceled. I changed my plans on MY special day for them, had a terrible celebration, and after all that, those plans that had caused me so much trouble were canceled. On top of that, I had just learned from an email from my mother that one of the family cats who was my brother's closest companion, died at the age of 14 (I think). Also, it was nearing my grandmother's birthday (July 3rd), and it's only been about a year since she passed away. I was NOT having a good day. So I begged my friend to hang out with me at least a little that night to make up for ruining my day. The bars and clubs in 서현 (Seohyeon) are open until 5 or 6am, when you can take the first bus or train home. He finally agreed to stay until midnight and take the last train home. We got some food and drank some 소주 (Soju, Korean sake) and when he left I went to my room mildly drunk and prepared to crawl into bed, miserable.
At this point, my acquaintance whom I had recently me through another acquaintance called to say she was in 홍대 (Hongdae, another social hot spot on the other side of Seoul) with her friends and she really wanted me to meet her friend who also composes piano music. I said it was impossible because the buses and subway were closed and I couldn't afford a taxi. She said she would pay for the taxi and all I had to do was hand the driver the phone and she would give him directions.
About an hour and a half later, I arrived in 홍대 (Hongdae). She paid the taxi driver and bought me a beer, and we walked to a nearby club. I had met one of her friends before, so we talked a little bit, and I talked to the friend she wanted me to meet. I was proud of myself for using Korean so much because they couldn't speak English well. I had some fun dancing with her a little, and then they started buying rounds of shots. In Korea, if someone older than you gives you a drink or some food, you must consume it. It is your cultural obligation. Almost all of my friends are older than me, including this group. I won't say I protested... I was having a REALLY bad day. The next thing I remember is people helping me up because I had fallen on my face on the ground. Then I was sitting in the entryway with all of them around me and a cool, damp cloth in my hand, trying to stop the bleeding on my nose, watching as there were more and more circles of blood on the white cloth each time I checked to see if the bleeding had stopped. I talked to a Russian girl who was being checked out by a black guy. She said she liked black guys, so I told her to talk to the one checking her out. This was after she asked if I was okay and I responded that I'm clumsy even when sober and I'd be fine. Apparently I'm an articulate drunk.
My friend said that she had called one of my friends and that he was coming to get me. He lived in 수지 (Suji), which is about 2 hours away from 홍대 (Hongdae). He had to take a taxi because of the time. I don't even know how much it cost him to come to my rescue, but it had to have been expensive. In the meantime, my friend and her two friends took me to a restaurant, and I vaguely remember trying to eat something and make conversation a little. When my friend finally arrived, he glared at my friend, and took me out of the building. He frantically looked around for a hospital, but there weren't any, so we got into a taxi and went to the nearest hospital with an open emergency room.
We ended up at 신촌연세병원 (Sinchon Younse Hospital, i think was their odd English spelling). They took three or four x-rays, put three stitches in my nose, and gave me an antibiotic injection in my hip. The whole time, everything was in Korean, I was in pain and exhausted, and I was so ashamed of my stupidity. Luckily I was still drunk enough, around 5am, to experience the wonderfully pain-numbing effects of alcohol, because I didn't get any anesthetic or numbing injection for my stitches. I just concentrated on my friend's voice as he told me what they wanted me to do in English. The total cost of that emergency room visit, as I don't have any insurance in Korea, was 141,970 won. With the current exchange rate, that's about $112. Each of three subsequent check-up visits has been 18,880 won, or about $15, including a private consultation with a doctor, re-bandaging, and another injection. My three thrice-daily medications which I took for a week totaled about $20~$25. I got my stitches taken out on Saturday and I have to return again this Friday. The bone should take about a month total to heal, and is well aligned and only barely broken so surgery is not necessary. The swelling has gone down, and I can finally remove the bandage and wash my face tomorrow.
So here are my life lessons:
1. When upset, drinking is only a good answer if you are with people you can trust.
2. Don't trust anyone you met through a gangster, even if he's only a part-time gangster now.
3. Never go somewhere far away in the middle of the night, especially to meet someone you barely know.
4. Appreciate anyone who will take a 2-hour taxi ride in the wee hours of the morning to come to your rescue and who apologizes that he can't afford to pay your hospital bill.
5. Korean health care is cheap and efficient; mock American health care in comparison.
6. Korean health care is maybe a little less sterile and confidential than American health care (three patients to a consultation room, less use of gloves, although still very sterile)
7. Be wary of girls. (I already knew this one, but was trying to cultivate female friendships).
8. Living alone is lonely. I don't really know what to do about that right now.
9. Emergencies in another country are perhaps the scariest thing in the world. Without my friend, I don't know what I would have done. Note: the friend I was out with did NOT take me to a hospital. She waited 2 hours for my other friend while eating and drinking more with her friends, as I sat next to her with a gash in my nose and dried blood on my face. It took me three days to get all of the dried blood out of my nose with Q-tips, and somehow I had ended up with blood on my forehead and up to my hairline. I can't imagine how bad I looked when my friend rushed me out of the restaurant.
10. Never make the same mistake twice. I promise myself and my readers I will never again drink so much that I don't remember what happened the next day. This was the first and the last time. Many people black out every time they drink and have never been injured. I have no such luck and no intention of testing my bad luck any further.
Anyway, on a lighter note, some observations made on a rainy day:
1. On the bus, a young woman was literally drying herself from head to toe, including inside her shoes, with tissues.
2. A man with prominent tattoos (extremely rebellious in Korean culture) was nonchalantly carrying a bright purple umbrella. Purple is just a color here. There is no gay connotation.
3. Many people use umbrellas to protect against a light mist.
4. Many buildings have an apparatus that holds a long, thin plastic bag that you put your umbrella in to prevent the floors from getting too wet. On a rainy day, exits of large buildings are littered with these plastic bags. It seems strange to me because Korean culture is very conservation- and recycling-focused. Even fast food restaurants separate trash into liquid, paper, plastic, and other, and there is a little tray for unused condiments and such.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Back from Japan
I got back from Tokyo yesterday morning. It was a tiring trip, but the stay in Tokyo was relaxing. My friend and I left the Seoul area late Sunday night and took a train to the Busan/Pusan area. When we arrived, we ate some traditional food (I had 소고기국밥, beef rice soup) and took one of the first morning buses to the airport, where we hung around napping until our 11:30am flight. Upon arriving in the Tokyo Narita airport, we went through customs and immigration and took the airport limousine (just a bus) to our hotel. Public transportation in Japan is much more expensive than in Korea~ -_-. When we got to our hotel room we collapsed and fell asleep for most of the afternoon, then went to a convenience store to buy some food because we're cheap. We got instant ramen, some cheap, delicious breads, and some cold tea. People don't drink tap water in Korea and Japan. I'm not sure if it's because it's not safe or because they think it's not safe, but I don't drink it either, just in case. From our hotel window there was an amazingly close view of Tokyo Tower, so we watched some Japanese TV, some CNN, and gazed at the brightly illuminated Tower out the window while eating our ramen and tea.
On Tuesday, we wandered around Tokyo aimlessly, much like I do in Korea, discovering things and people watching. We took some ridiculous pictures, discovering that both of us are so NOT photogenic. We ate some ざるそば(zaru soba) and きつねうどん(kitsune udon) in a small restaurant. We had to order by choosing via vending machine, then taking our vending machine receipt to the waitress. It was a new and confusing way to eat for me, but the food was delicious and cheap. :)
Wednesday was the return trip. It was basically the same as the trip there: killing time in the airport, killing time waiting for buses, etc.. When I got back into Korea and turned on my phone, I had 7 new text messages even though most of my friends knew I was gone. It was a really great feeling to know I was missed although I was only gone for three days.
Tokyo is a lot like Seoul, but there's something intrinsically different about it. It's older, cleaner, quieter, and somewhat eerie.
More later, but I have to go out now.
On Tuesday, we wandered around Tokyo aimlessly, much like I do in Korea, discovering things and people watching. We took some ridiculous pictures, discovering that both of us are so NOT photogenic. We ate some ざるそば(zaru soba) and きつねうどん(kitsune udon) in a small restaurant. We had to order by choosing via vending machine, then taking our vending machine receipt to the waitress. It was a new and confusing way to eat for me, but the food was delicious and cheap. :)
Wednesday was the return trip. It was basically the same as the trip there: killing time in the airport, killing time waiting for buses, etc.. When I got back into Korea and turned on my phone, I had 7 new text messages even though most of my friends knew I was gone. It was a really great feeling to know I was missed although I was only gone for three days.
Tokyo is a lot like Seoul, but there's something intrinsically different about it. It's older, cleaner, quieter, and somewhat eerie.
More later, but I have to go out now.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Changes
My 고시원 (goshiweon) has a new owner. He changed the management and is personally heading the major cleaning of the entire place. I was wondering what was with all the new faces recently. I can tell which one he is because he's always a little shocked, shy, and excited when he sees me, like I'm the prize in the box~ there's a pretty young foreigner in my new investment!!! I'm really happy, because my friend said the new guy is fixing EVERYTHING and he's going to buy dishes and other necessary things we've been lacking. I went to pee and there were new bathroom slippers already~!
I must admit, I've neglected to talk about the lax hygeine around here because I thought you all may be worried. Apparently there used to be community dishes and the kitchen was clean, but now the dishes have mostly been stolen, and the cabinets and surfaces are sticky. The bathroom is a disgrace. There are two toilet stalls and three shower stalls. The layout isn't terrible, but the locks on both toilet stalls are broken, and the floors are disgusting. There's a pipe leak next to the one by the wall that causes part of the floor to be wet with god knows what, so you kind of have to pee sitting sideways to avoid it. Two of the showers barely drain. In the one that does drain mostly, the light has been burnt out since I moved in, and the showerhead has major leakage problems. Lately there's been a pervasive stench much like that of a port-a-potty at a crowded outdoor concert or carnival. The sink hasn't drained well for weeks. However, the laundry room isn't noticeably bad, and my room itself is much better than the one in 까치산 (Ggachisan). My only complaints are that my window faces a hallway instead of the outside, so it's more difficult to wake up in the morning because there's no daylight; and, the air conditioning is centrally controlled so my room ends up being hot, then cold, then hot, then cold. Right now it's a comfortable temperature, which means it will be hot soon. Then it will be very, very cold and I'll need a sweater and maybe my blanket.
I finally found a good place to play piano. There's a music academy less than a minute's walk from my home, and I went there yesterday to see if I could use their pianos for practice. Turns out I can use a clean, private practice room to play a well-tuned piano as much as I want in the evenings from Monday-Saturday for 130,000 won (about $110 maybe) per month. I started yesterday~ it had been about a month since I last played piano. For musicians, playing music is an addiction, almost a religion. I was having withdrawl symptoms: playing air piano on escalator handrails; reading sheet music like novels; dreaming of composing.... The impetus was finally watching someone play Chopin's Revolutionary Etude (which I can't play but love) on TV.
I've lived in Korea for almost 3 months now. That means I have to leave the country and come back to keep a legal status. I decided to go to Japan because it's the closest country and therefore the cheapest to travel to, and because I speak Japanese decently well. I'll be almost as confused in Japan as I am in Korea, but it will be much easier than going to China or Thailand or somewhere where I don't speak the language at all. However, coming to Korea alone was scary enough and I was at least departing from a familiar place. Korea is still very unfamiliar to me, and I've never been to Japan before, so this trip is very daunting. I asked a friend to go with me. We're going to Tokyo together from the 22nd to the 24th. He has final exams until this Saturday, so we're leaving Sunday night to go to Busan for our Monday morning flight (the tickets are cheaper from that airport). When we return to Korea, I'll be able to stay for another 90 days legally. :)
My sleep schedule is completely messed up. Twice in the past week I've skipped an entire night of sleep, and once I slept for 19 hours afterwards. Last night I was exhausted so I went to sleep at 8pm only to wake up at 1:30am. I've been killing time by studying Japanese and psychology and cleaning my room a little. I have to tutor from 9pm-10:30pm, so I'll get home around 11-11:30 tonight. I'm already exhausted, but if I sleep now, I'll miss eating dinner, playing piano, and probably also tutoring. I'm hungry, too, but I still haven't figured out the grocery store situation well, so I can't really cook anything but ramyun (Korean ramen) or egg fried rice. I should ask random people on the street to eat with me. Haha. Koreans don't eat alone in public. Maybe~ MAYBE at a fast food restaurant they do, but there are none near me. I guess I could walk or take the subway to the neighboring stop and go to the Lotteria (Korean fast food) there. But... that's really strange. I could get take-out kimpap (Korean sushi rolls) from the place across from my building, but that's a language barrier ordeal I'm not ready to face. So, usually in these cases I buy 삼걱김밥 (triangle kimpap) from the convenience store and eat a couple of them and maybe some ramyun. Usually I go out to eat with various friends at least 3 times per week so I get plenty of meat and veggies.
I'm in the stage of setting up a student base where jobs are semi-transitory. Amidst the coming and going of students, I can't really pinpoint how many I have. Most of them are businessmen. I think I have 3 now, plus the two children of one of them. There's another, but he's too sick right now with his asthma so he's planning to resume tutoring in a month or so. I'm constantly meeting new students and losing old ones. This is business.
I got a positive response from my adviser. It looks like I will be able to pull off this whole graduating-from-another-country thing. I'm really excited!
I must admit, I've neglected to talk about the lax hygeine around here because I thought you all may be worried. Apparently there used to be community dishes and the kitchen was clean, but now the dishes have mostly been stolen, and the cabinets and surfaces are sticky. The bathroom is a disgrace. There are two toilet stalls and three shower stalls. The layout isn't terrible, but the locks on both toilet stalls are broken, and the floors are disgusting. There's a pipe leak next to the one by the wall that causes part of the floor to be wet with god knows what, so you kind of have to pee sitting sideways to avoid it. Two of the showers barely drain. In the one that does drain mostly, the light has been burnt out since I moved in, and the showerhead has major leakage problems. Lately there's been a pervasive stench much like that of a port-a-potty at a crowded outdoor concert or carnival. The sink hasn't drained well for weeks. However, the laundry room isn't noticeably bad, and my room itself is much better than the one in 까치산 (Ggachisan). My only complaints are that my window faces a hallway instead of the outside, so it's more difficult to wake up in the morning because there's no daylight; and, the air conditioning is centrally controlled so my room ends up being hot, then cold, then hot, then cold. Right now it's a comfortable temperature, which means it will be hot soon. Then it will be very, very cold and I'll need a sweater and maybe my blanket.
I finally found a good place to play piano. There's a music academy less than a minute's walk from my home, and I went there yesterday to see if I could use their pianos for practice. Turns out I can use a clean, private practice room to play a well-tuned piano as much as I want in the evenings from Monday-Saturday for 130,000 won (about $110 maybe) per month. I started yesterday~ it had been about a month since I last played piano. For musicians, playing music is an addiction, almost a religion. I was having withdrawl symptoms: playing air piano on escalator handrails; reading sheet music like novels; dreaming of composing.... The impetus was finally watching someone play Chopin's Revolutionary Etude (which I can't play but love) on TV.
I've lived in Korea for almost 3 months now. That means I have to leave the country and come back to keep a legal status. I decided to go to Japan because it's the closest country and therefore the cheapest to travel to, and because I speak Japanese decently well. I'll be almost as confused in Japan as I am in Korea, but it will be much easier than going to China or Thailand or somewhere where I don't speak the language at all. However, coming to Korea alone was scary enough and I was at least departing from a familiar place. Korea is still very unfamiliar to me, and I've never been to Japan before, so this trip is very daunting. I asked a friend to go with me. We're going to Tokyo together from the 22nd to the 24th. He has final exams until this Saturday, so we're leaving Sunday night to go to Busan for our Monday morning flight (the tickets are cheaper from that airport). When we return to Korea, I'll be able to stay for another 90 days legally. :)
My sleep schedule is completely messed up. Twice in the past week I've skipped an entire night of sleep, and once I slept for 19 hours afterwards. Last night I was exhausted so I went to sleep at 8pm only to wake up at 1:30am. I've been killing time by studying Japanese and psychology and cleaning my room a little. I have to tutor from 9pm-10:30pm, so I'll get home around 11-11:30 tonight. I'm already exhausted, but if I sleep now, I'll miss eating dinner, playing piano, and probably also tutoring. I'm hungry, too, but I still haven't figured out the grocery store situation well, so I can't really cook anything but ramyun (Korean ramen) or egg fried rice. I should ask random people on the street to eat with me. Haha. Koreans don't eat alone in public. Maybe~ MAYBE at a fast food restaurant they do, but there are none near me. I guess I could walk or take the subway to the neighboring stop and go to the Lotteria (Korean fast food) there. But... that's really strange. I could get take-out kimpap (Korean sushi rolls) from the place across from my building, but that's a language barrier ordeal I'm not ready to face. So, usually in these cases I buy 삼걱김밥 (triangle kimpap) from the convenience store and eat a couple of them and maybe some ramyun. Usually I go out to eat with various friends at least 3 times per week so I get plenty of meat and veggies.
I'm in the stage of setting up a student base where jobs are semi-transitory. Amidst the coming and going of students, I can't really pinpoint how many I have. Most of them are businessmen. I think I have 3 now, plus the two children of one of them. There's another, but he's too sick right now with his asthma so he's planning to resume tutoring in a month or so. I'm constantly meeting new students and losing old ones. This is business.
I got a positive response from my adviser. It looks like I will be able to pull off this whole graduating-from-another-country thing. I'm really excited!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)