Kevin's Uncomprehensive Guide to Life in Korea part One!

In less than a week, I will leave South Korea where I’ve spent the last two years teaching English, exploring the countryside and trying to comprehend the locals as best I can.

So, before I say 안녕 to Korea forever, I thought I’d make a list of the most important things I think a foreigner ought to do while here. To all those considering teaching here, or to those just starting their contracts, or even to those who think they’ve got this place pegged, have a listen.

Learn the Language

You’re right, learning Korean is not necessary to living in Seoul. Korean grammar is very difficult and enough locals speak rudimentary English or better that one can go a whole year without so much as an 안녕하세요. Even though you’ll likely never use it again outside of Korea, learning the language can be very rewarding.

First, it’s valuable for its own sake. Learning any foreign language allows you to better understand your own, and this has practical implications for teachers. You can compare English to Korean, pinpointing mispronunciation and grammar mistakes, and most importantly, sympathize with your young pupils for studying a language that is so vastly different from what they’re used to.

I don’t see how anyone can say they understand a culture without attempting to speak its words. Language is a vehicle for customs, for social hierarchy, for attitudes, and well, everything. Unlike western languages, Korean expressions change form depending on the age, status, and gender of the listener. When you study, you get a glimpse of how and why Koreans act the ways they do.

If that’s not enough, there are social benefits. As any foreigner who knows at least five Korean words could attest, locals (well, not old people but I’ll get to that) are easily impressed with any attempts to speak their words. It’s indispensable to making friends, particularly girly-friends (I’ll get to that too). With smiles and modesty, your butchering of Korean will go over well.

Last of all, there are the obvious practical uses. English becomes far less common when you leave Seoul (and for the love of ham, do leave Seoul as often as you can). Getting directions, hitchhiking, arranging accommodation and meals all demand a dash of Korean, and you’ll feel proud of yourself when you are at least partially understood.

Now that I’ve proved to you why you must study Korean, the question is, how? There is a slue of Korean books available; I hear Yonsei’s is the best, but I’m partial to my Lonely Planet phrasebook. For me, the best way to learn has been to simply listen to everything people say. Korean is a hopelessly repetitive language. If it’s cold, you say “choo-ah,” if it’s hot you say “tuh-ah,” and for pretty much every other emotion from surprise, anger to constipation, you say “jinn-jah.” As a homogeneous country, Koreans tend to use the same expressions with less creativity than we’d expect back home. It gets annoying, but simply listening to locals allows you to learn quickly. For a deeper understanding, I’d recommend a language exchange or even enrolling in an academy to study. Just so long as you’re learning.

Up next…hiking!

U of Me

So, if you haven’t heard, I’ve been accepted to the School of Information at the University of Michigan. I was pretty excited at the prospect prior to my acceptance, but my feelings have since diminished to indifference and lately, to reluctance.
It’s mostly the price tag. Because of my current residence abroad, U of M has me branded as out-of-state, doubling tuition. I intend to file for Michigan residency soon, though even then—the 50k for tuition and fees is intimidating. I’ve managed to squirrel away a healthy sum in my two years in Korea. It’s comforting to know that whatever I do, that money is there. It’s more than I’ve ever had in my life, and if there’s one thing my dad taught me it’s to be frugal. I realize that school is an investment but I’m not even sure if this is the right step for me. What if I’m not cut out to be an IT professional? What if I can’t hack it as a grad student? What if the other kids don’t like me?

I’m keenly aware of general criticisms of graduate school. I know people who have studied for two years, dug themselves deep into debt, only to return to Korea for another contract or work in a coffee shop / Border’s / a library at home. This is precisely why I shrugged my English-Sociology degree and chose a semi-technical program with a high job placement rate.

Then there’s the fact that the School of Information has one of the highest applicant acceptance rates of any grad program at U of M. I recognize how competitive some of the other programs are, like law and medicine, which are some of the best in the country. I suppose what it really comes down to—and here comes a pathetic statement—I question the quality of an institution that accepts an average bloke like me. Now I know what you’re saying, and that’s either “You’re not average! You’re super awesome!” or “I have no idea who you are, but you sound depressingly mediocre to me.” Toss the international experience, and on paper, I’m just another white male in his mid-20s trying to save the world.

Then there’s the question that you’re asking and I ask myself all the time, and that’s “What the crap is the School of Information?? Do you wanna be a librarian??” No, librarianship doesn’t interest me as a vocation. SI, as I understand, studies the digitization, transmission, presentation and accessibility of all information, from stupid blogs like this one to scholarly sources. SI offers nine specializations including librarianship and another one called Social Computing that’s concerned with the study of sites like Facebook. No, really. From the outset, it appears SI is a watered-downed version of computer science, blending humanities with information technology. It appeals to my liberal arts / watered-down background.

Then there’s the much larger, more personal obstacle that has nothing to do with SI or U of M. My roots have begun to take hold in Asia. I am, despite my idiotic boss, unfulfilling job, lack of friends and mounting disdain for the culture, quite comfortable here. Three and half years spent anywhere is bound to change a person, and anyone who’s spent even a few months abroad knows what I’m talking about. Asia empowers the average white man. Walk anywhere in Seoul and you’ll see greasy obese honkeys walking with stunningly beautiful Korean girls. Wherever a honkey goes here, he’s noticed and often accorded special respect. Honkeys make friends easily, stand out and are recognized for being different. I admit this is an attractive notion to me. I’m an experienced imperialist, and as such I understand the correlation between the time a foreigner spends in Asia and a foreigner’s self-doubt. The longer one lives here, the more evident their insecurity becomes. It’s the “push-pull” factor I’ve mentioned so many times before. Expats might be initially pulled to Korea by the thrill of travel or a chance to pay off student loans, but eventually they are pushed to Korea by a desire to feel more attractive, interesting and skilled than they are perceived in their home countries. I think of these things as I consider working in Japan for a year.

Yet, I am compelled to live in the real world, whatever that is. U of M seems like a ticket there, and although I have only a vague idea of what I want to achieve, more people than not tell me that grad school is good. Honestly, I don’t really miss home, miss people or even Pillsbury cookie dough any more. I cannot miss what I seek because I’ve never had it, and that’s vision. I’m hoping that school will show me what I want, or at least, what I don’t want. So here’s hoping.

Of Ahjosshis

An ahjohsshi, simply put, is any married Korean man ages 30+; it's a huge demographic to be sure, yet in a Neo-Confucian society such as South Korea groups retain more homogeneity than in the west. This is of course a generalization, but after three years of living here, you have to take my word when I say that ahjohsshis are often unruly and aggressive. Rather than define them sociologically like this blogger so eloquently does, I'll offer an anecdote to better outline the behavior of this peculiar creature.

So, while at dinner munching on some pig feet with Korean, Chinese and American friends (I’m so international), an ahjosshi sitting at a table next to us got up to use the bathroom. Now, we were all sitting Indian-style in a cramped restaurant and as the ahjosshi bumped my friends to get through, my Korean friend said, “Please excuse him.” I chuckled although I can’t remember why. When the ahjosshi returned he glared at us for a few minutes and then spouted Korean expletives. Having taught foul-mouthed Korean teenagers before, I had a good idea of what he said and translated it to my Chinese and American friends. The ahjosshi thought I was directing this translation at him and demanded that I speak to him in his language. As he spoke the man’s friend restrained him from approaching us. I kept eating while my Korean friend tried to put the man at ease. He couldn’t, and after several heated attempts my Korean friend was asked outside to talk it over. This was a rather tense moment for all of us as we sat wondering what was happening. My friend returned a bit later and said the matter had been settled. Apparently the ahjosshi thought I had laughed at him earlier and that caused the offense.

Now, it’s difficult to give you a full picture of ahjosshis without sounding overly critical, racist, or even silly. Like so many observations abroad, it must be experienced. Admittedly, this incident is extremely minor compared to other stories I’ve heard, but I think it indicates something very troubling about Korea.

Most westerners are aware of the eastern concept of face, that showing respect—even disingenuously—is key to social discourse. For instance, everything said in Korean has several variations according to the age, title and gender of the person being spoken to. Communication is often vague as direct statements can carry disrespect, especially when spoken to someone of a higher position. This is important to remember when a foreigner is involved and cannot speak formally. In this situation, I didn’t apologize or even return his slurs. Like in past affronts by ahjosshis, I chose silence, and that seems to piss them off all the more.

The second element to consider is the natural habitat of the ahjosshi, which is primarily the office, the bar, and the home to sleep, though the last location varies. Koreans work feverishly, from the early morning to well into the evening, with long commutes in Seoul. Work outings to bars and restaurants are expected and routine events (they even have a special word for it: wae-shik), where men are pressured by their superiors to drink excessively. In the pig foot restaurant, every ahjosshi drank and shouted, belched and passed out. My Korean friend said after his meeting with the ahjosshi that the man was not drunk. I find this hard to believe given the circumstances. Alcohol, as we all know, amplifies emotions and exposes hidden sentiments. Face or no face, the ahjosshi may have not reacted so inappropriately if he weren’t under the influence of soju (rice liquor) or more potently, his culture.

The last factor and the most difficult to interpret is my part in the equation, the presence of a foreigner. Most foreigners in Korea have very set opinions of how they are perceived by locals, and you can probably get a sense of how I feel from this post. Many expats point to Korea’s xenophobia stemming from centuries of occupation and destruction from neighboring countries. It is my view that these events have given Koreans an inferiority complex, or an intense desire to show the rest of the world that they matter. This complex breeds nationalism and may have affected our ahjosshi into thinking he had something to prove to me as a foreigner when I caused him offense.

These are all complicated issues that are impossible to clarify in a single post, but I think I’ll revive this blog with some observations. As a Confucian society, group identity and role expectations are much more pervasive here, making Koreans ripe for sociological analysis.

It should be noted that I do not mean to criticize Koreans. Said Korean friend is in fact an ahjosshi and abides by the same expectations. I do not wish to reduce him or this demographic to caricature, but instead offer up my views.Next up, ahjummas? You bet.Boisterous

My Boss the Communist Dictator

It may seem racist or even hyperbolic to compare one's boss to dictator Kim Jong Il.  He doesn't have aspirations for world conquest (yet), and he doesn't attend colossal military parades in his honor, but there are enough similarities for me to mull and snicker to myself as he reprimands me for the third time this week.

The Personality Cult

Stalin, Mao and our buddy Kim all had or have personality cults.  If you're not abreast to totalitarian regimes, a personality cult is, to quote Wikipedia, "when a country's leader uses mass media to create a heroic public image, often through unquestioning flattery and praise."

The first thing anyone notices about this institution is the boss's face in promotional posters plastered in every hall, classroom and office.  His head, which is already rather large, takes up half of each poster, the rest being Korean text which presumably exemplifies his wisdom in English education.  Beside the front desk there is a large flat panel that plays non-stop footage of the boss giving lectures.  There is no audio or subtitles; all one can perceive is the man's head contorting and wobbling passionately.

His ubiquitous presence in the school is a throwback to Mao and Kim, who in attempt to create  omnipresent, godlike status, plastered portraits of themselves in every public area, from homes to classrooms to courtyards.  Now all we need is the boss in wristwatches and we'd have a cult for sure.

Empty Rhetoric

We can't reference Mr. Kim on this one since as we know, the fellow stays pretty quiet.  Mao, on the other hand, is remembered for a slue of vague one-liners like this:

"Letting a hundred flowers blossom and a hundred schools of thought contend is the policy for promoting the progress of the arts and the sciences and a flourishing culture in our land."

We need flowers to bloom to help sciences?  I don't have my Mao book in front of me to quote more hilarious and perplexing aphorisms, but suffice it to say, Mao was no public speaker.  When he did speak, however, it was usually to remark on the obvious or irrelevant.

My boss, in turn, loves a good speech.  That's why he's featured on the front-desk monitor orating inaudibly.  At our weekly meeting, he emphasizes that we need to be more professional teachers.  He then asks each teacher their view on how to be professional, and responds to each answer by explaining how we are completely wrong.  His explanations are never clear, and specific questions directed at him result in further befuddlement.  Staff emerge from meetings more confused than when they went in, and our failure to follow his vague directions result in more meetings.

It should be said that my boss's wisdom is followed exactly and never questioned to his face.  Neither logic nor experience enter in the discussion.  The boss commands and we obey.

Hairstyle

I could continue with grim comparisons, but I'd like to end this on a more amusing note, and that's hairstyle.  Dictatorships and goofy hair go together like celery and peanut butter.  I can't post a photo of my boss and I couldn't find a photo of a Korean guy with bad hair, so their current president will have to suffice.

My boss's hair underscores the passion of his speeches.  Each time he twitches his head to make a point, his hair shakes nervously, as if to echo the man's passion.  It's kind of a like the pet of a cartoon super-villain.  It's hard to explain without an image.  You'll just have to take my word that in this manner and others, my boss really is a junior communist leader.

And now I'm fired.

Night Running in Seoul

I have this habit of intentionally getting lost while running. I've done this in every city I've lived in, from the cherry orchards of Traverse City, Michigan to the hazardous industrial complexes of Qingdao, China. I don't know what it is, I just feel that running shouldn't be done just for its own sake.

I was just twenty minutes into my run, at around 10:30pm last night when I realized I didn't know which direction my apartment was. I had followed a river several miles before veering off down random, empty alleys.   Forty minutes of aimless sprinting and gesticulating to Journey left me in a district I hadn't seen before, and my bum leg began to call.

Now, anyone who's been to Seoul can tell you that it's easy to get lost.  Seoul, like its people, is  homogeneous; nearly every square block looks like the next.  Each block invariably contains at least one or more convenient store, PC cafe, karaoke room, franchise bar, and generic Korean restaurant.  There are few landmarks and even less street signs.

So, seeing my mistake, I asked a middle-aged Korean man in Korean where is Daecheong station, which is just below my apartment.  He shouted some Korean and pointed in several directions.  I began running in the first direction the man pointed to.  I crossed several rivers before asking for directions again.  This time the man said "Let's go together" in Korean and led me a few blocks before incomprehensibly explaining the rest of the way.  Somehow I found familiar territory, and after two hours of running, I was at home.

Here's to many safe returns, I guess.

Seoul at a Glance

When I lived in Yongin two years back, Seoul was the place to be.  Now, it's the place I am.  I reside in a quieter corner on the south side of the Han River, away from the lights and noise of the main drag.  I live in an office-tel apartment building above a fitness club, the subway system, and a couple dozen Korean cafes that all serve the same dishes.  There are parks and recreation areas on every side of me.

To me, Seoul is a city of amusing contrasts.  There are mountains that rise above forests of drab high-rise apartments, and Buddhist temples tucked between Dunkin' Donuts shops.  Seoul has much to offer foreigners in the ways of food, drink and merriment, but less in the ways of cultural and historical immersion.  Seoul is obscured by the much better known metropolises of Beijing and Tokyo, and for good reasons.  Seoul lacks the amazing spectacles of Beijing, and its technological efficiency lags behind Tokyo.

The first thing anyone will tell you about Seoul is that it's huge.  Hovering somewhere between ten and fifteen million, Seoul rivals Beijing and is about half the size of Tokyo.  But Korea is a tiny country, about the geographic size of Michigan.  Just imagine Michigan with forty-five million.  Seoul comprises around a quarter of that, and its sprawl accounts for considerably more.  My former town of Yongin is at the fringes of the city and is showing signs of assimilation.  One might say that within a hundred years, Seoul and South Korea will be one of the same.  

It's difficult to give a general account of Seoul, or any city really, so for the next twelve months I'll be examining more precise aspects.  Hope to have you along.  Welcome back to Korea, everybody. 한국 아서세요.

Once you go Mac, you never go back, except when you do

So, for the last month I've been toiling with the great technological debate: PC or Mac?  This question is as hotly argued as liberal or conservative, pro-life or choice, taco or burrito.   There is little I can contribute to the table of pros and cons.  It's said that PCs are cheaper, more compatible with software, and have more memory, while Macs are better for graphic editing, are sleeker and have much haughtier clientele.  It's difficult to get an honest assessment since most folks are biased one side or the other, and they typically articulate their preference by pointing out the flaws of the other side.   What a confused purchaser needs is someone who has experience with both platforms, which as of last week, is what I've become.  I'm a Mac user.

So, why?  Well, those Apple commercials were convincing.  The last thing I want is to suddenly become obese and forgetful.   But really, the kicker for me was Apple's college promo, where college students (and their brothers?) can get a free Ipod Touch and fifty bucks off a Macbook.  I opted for the aluminum Macbook because it's shinier.  Plus, Apple first sent me a defective Macbook that I had to return for a new one.  They deducted another hundred bucks off the total.  

There is little to distinguish my Macky from my old HP lappy.  Both are solid devices, but that was before the arrival of Vista, Windows most terrifying operating system.  So, in the end, I chose one side to avoid certain pitfalls of the other, that and promos.  Delicious promos.