Hi All,
It was Oliver and Jasen's birthday this week, so we celebrated by going out for Chicken and Beer. Suffice to say, much fun was had by all.
We tried to get out to Seoul to do some puttering about town before going out Swing dancing. Unfortunately, the meet-up group we had hoped to join decided to change the day of the event from Saturday to Friday. The day before the event. Which, as you might guess, was annoying.
So we went to Seoul anyway, and puttered about Namdaemun market, which is what one might think of as a 'stereotypical' bazaar or market. That is, you walk through the main gate into the market place, and you have dozens of shops and vendors all over the place, all hawking their wares at top volume and offering discounts for those willing to haggle over prices. Since most of them speak a bit of English, and most of us now speak a little Korean, this can turn into an extended affair. I've learned to ask for a couple of thousand Won (a few dollars) off on each purchase, but I don't push my luck. Daniel, meanwhile, is the master of holding out to get exactly what he wants -- he bargained a bag down from 35 to 30$ by simply sticking to his preferred price. Jen, on the other hand, is what I like to call a skilled body language negotiator--that is, she doesn't ask for huge discounts, she just makes it very clear that the merchant can offer a better price, or we'll leave--all with nothing more than a mild frown and a flick of her eyes to me.
I play the straight man, pursing my lips slightly and nodding, before turning to go. At which point the merchant makes a final offer which we like more.
It's fun, and crazy, and you can get just about anything you want in the market. I recently purchased a Korea Red Devils (the national football--sorry, SOCCER, for the Americans--team) jersey, and a nice hat. I'd been looking for a fedora that works for me for some time.
It still amazes me how much of a contradiction Korea can be. Well, I suppose most countries that are industrialized are the same, but Korea, due to its size and population density, strikes me even more: you can go, literally, from major city to forested mountains to major city, all in the span of 5 minutes on the Highway. Because of the number of people, everything is built straight up. Where, in Canada, due to the amount of space we possess, we can afford to put a parking lot, or to spread our city out, Koreans have to maximize the use of any given space. Hence the tendency of Koreans to have an office building which houses anything and everything from restaurants, hair shops, gift stores, English schools and martial arts dojangs (like our own building), to PC Bangs (Computer/LAN rooms), to DVD and Noraebangs, all in one bloc and often in the same floor.
It's a degree of efficiency that we lack, in Canada, and I wonder if when I return I'll feel agoraphobic from the change. While I don't know if I really liked the number of people surrounding me at first--I've always been sensitive about having enough room to move around and to being able to stand apart from crowds--I'm learning to be more comfortable with it. This is even to the point of being able and willing to dash madly down the street, dodging crowds and free-running where needed to get to a bus before it leaves, shoving my way through overcrowded subway cars, and squeezing into tightly packed elevators. Usually, I'm more than willing to find my own personal space. Here, you make do, and it probably is one of the major reasons for the sense of communalism ever-present in Korean culture: with this many people, it's impossible NOT to be involved in the affairs of everyone around you!
Speaking of people, it's definitely interesting being what is essentially a visible minority. In Canada, and the United States, white people, including myself, tend to take for granted the fact that we're a majority, perhaps especially because of the socio-economic power that whites have traditionally held in North America. For better or worse (and often the latter), white people don't have to worry about and often don't consider the fact that we have privileges in the West. It is part of this obliviousness that, I suspect, has caused the amount of anger that minorities feel at times in Western society. It's easy to support ideas of freedom and equality for all when you're on top--but when you are struggling to make ends meet, when you are discriminated against because of your ethnicity or origins or religion or anything else, no matter how subtle that discrimination may be or how blatant it is, the claims of "anyone can make it with a little hard work" tend to sound like so much bull. It becomes a song full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
I've known many people who have doctorates, master's degrees, heavy-duty certification in trades, and whatever else you can think of, and they still are stuck in dead-end jobs with pay worth absolutely zero and no chance of getting into a better job. Why this is the case is uncertain: racism, certainly, is a possibility, among many others. Perhaps the certification of a Chinese doctor or an Ethiopian dentist is not to the same standard of Canadian universities, but still, if one is simply excluded from entering into work in your field in Canada because of this, it often precludes catching up. University education is far too expensive to allow for most immigrants to simply 'play catch-up' and spend another bundle of money that is already precious on re-certifying. Jennifer, my spouse, is already doing research on just this issue, and if you're interested in the subject, I'd suggest you follow her career blog: careerandjobsearchinghelp.blogspot.com.
My point in raising what must seem like a rather large tangent, is this: it's refreshing to see things from the other side. In Korea, while most people are rather polite about it, I know for a fact that I am seen as an outsider. I am fair-skinned, red-headed, and tall. I speak with a Canadian accent, don't know much Korean, and tend to be loud. Often, I do get stared at, by people of all age groups. It's interesting to see how it feels to be on the other side, albeit, thankfully, in a country where courtesy is primary.
I remarked to Jen that I don't mind being a non-person in Korea, because here it just means I am ignored until I make myself visible or audible. Korean society is heavily-based in Confucian values, meaning that social hierarchy is exceptionally important: how old you are, your position, your age relevant to others in the group, and where you are from, all factor in to how you are treated. The Korean language has several layers of formality, depending on what rank in society you are a part of. Thus a foreigner is decidedly 'outcaste,' in that we have no social ranking whatsoever. Normally, in the West, this kind of Other status means one is treated like garbage. Here, you are simply ignored. Politely, of course: Koreans are happy to do business with me and Jen once we make it known what we want, and once you establish your identity within the hierarchy, you are treated accordingly.
As one of our fellow teachers has said, however, no matter what one does, one will never be Korean if one is born outside of the hierarchy and ethnic group of Korea itself. No matter how well we integrate, Jen and I will always be the Other, and this position is instructive. While it may be a mixed blessing, I hope that it will teach those of us who come to this country to be more aware of our blessings at home, in the West.
Now, as a by-the-way, I am in no way trying to make this blog about ethnic or racial considerations. I comment on this particular issue because it came up often this week in conversation, and because I have been noticing my "Otherness" a bit lately, especially in bustling Seoul. On a really cute note, when kids stare at me, I get presented with a brilliant chance to break through the cultural barrier: no matter who you are, or where you're from, Peek-a-boo will make any little kid laugh. I've managed to have a little baby Korean kid smile and laugh for a good minute when standing in line next to his or her mom in the grocery store. Guess that's why I'm a semi-decent teacher: humor is a core part of our humanity.
Maybe that's a bit of a moral truism I can take from all this: Korean, Canadian, American, Japanese, European, African... all our differences exist, and we have to overcome them if we want to live together. However, we all can and do laugh and smile, and once we can do that with each other, we often realize how similar we all are.
Anyway, political rant over.
For fun, here's a rather disturbing image: Dunkin' Donuts is, indeed, everywhere.
And in Korea, it's frickin' three stories tall!
Best regards, all,
Chris
No comments:
Post a Comment