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