How to Beat the Foreigner Stereotype

Most every foreigner gets this. After living in Korea for about 3 months, other foreigners tend get…annoying. Annoying to the point where you make every effort to avoid typical foreigner hangouts. Why do you do this? Because you don’t want to be the “stereotype.”

What is the stereotypical foreigner? They are the ones that drink an obnoxious amount of 소주 (soju), run around the streets shouting and hollering, and shoving their bottles of soju in other people’s faces. They are the ones that talk loudly on the subway and sit in the seats for the elderly. They are the ones that talk about their “Korean conquests.” They are the ones that the Korean media makes their racist news reporting on. They are the ones that refuse to adapt to the culture that they have decided to live in.

For many foreigners, our biggest complaint about other foreigners is their drunken antics. Yes, Korea is a heavy drinking culture, yet the difference between a Korean getting drunk to a stereotypical foreigner getting drunk is quite large.

Koreans drink. Good God, do Koreans drink. Yet while they drink such a staggering amount of alcohol, they tend to be relatively civilized when it comes to getting drunk. Here’s what I mean. Koreans tend to be much quieter, less rambunctious, compared to the stereotypical foreigner. For Koreans, drinking is as much of a way of getting drunk as it is a way of creating closer bonds with friends and coworkers. I mentioned in a previous post that when Koreans drink, what they say when they are drunk is taken as truth. Thusly, they tend to be much more reserved when drinking compared to their western counterparts.

Stereotypical foreigners drink. Good God, do they drink. But I should say here, stereotypical foreigners drink, just like the stereotype is that all Koreans drink an insane amount of soju. Yet when a stereotypical foreigner (read, not all foreigners) drinks, as I mentioned above, his/her actions become intolerable. The foreigner suddenly turns into this loud, obnoxious beast that jumps around and beats his chest.

Skip to 3:25 to see what I mean by annoying foreigners. And I know, Eat Your Kimchi, it's like committing sacrilege, but this video really pisses me off.

I hate this video. This video depicts what so many foreigners hate about other foreigners; the running around, the shoving soju in people’s faces, and just being a general asshole. But here’s the thing, you can avoid being these people!

Let’s play with a scenario. You have moved to Korea for the first time. You have what I call the golden pass. For 2 months, you’re going to be excited with Korea with its sights and sounds, and yes, drinking culture. More often than not, you will be the stereotype. In my belief though, you need to be the stereotype for a bit so that you can learn the culture—so that you can learn what and what not to do. After 2 months, your views on foreigners will start to change. Bingeing on soju becomes less fun (those hangovers are becoming a real bitch), you notice how loud the subway is when a group of foreigners get on, and all of a sudden, you make a terrifying transformation—you become a Korean. At 3 months, the thought of a large group of foreigners in one place almost revolts you. This is the transformation that most, but not all, foreigners make.

So how do you keep from being the stereotype? Drink, but monitor yourself as you drink. Try not to get wild. Don’t run around shouting and telling Koreans to take shots with you. It’s rude. When you get drunk, DO NOT say 안녕하세요 (Annyeonghaseyo, “Hello”), to every Korean on the street. It’s rude. Try to be quite and respectful to the people on the street around you. Are you drinking in a Hof? Go ahead and play games and be loud. That’s what Hofs are there for. Are you drinking in a bar or outside of a convenience store? Be quieter because a bar is not a place for games and a convenience store is in public.

When it comes to public transportation, remember, you’re in public and you need to speak quietly (think a whisper) or not speak at all. Do not sit in the elderly seats. They’re reserved and open for a reason. If you see an elderly person get on the bus/train, please give up your seat for them; 1) it’s the polite thing to do and 2) you make the rest of us foreigners look good. Also, if there’s a child, please give up your seat for them as well.

아줌마 (Ajjumma, “Middle-aged woman/auntie”) rant: If it’s an ajjumma, you don’t need to up your seat. Every foreigner and Korean deals with the bitchy, evil ajjumma. We all hate them. My advice is just to pretend you don’t see them or understand what they’re saying. (Quick rant as to why I will never give up my seat to an ajjumma again. I was on the subway and a woman came on with her small child. I gestured to the woman to come over so that I could give up my seat to the little girl. As the mother walked over, and I started to stand up so the little girl could take my seat, an ajjumma snaked her way in and stole the seat from the 4-year-old!!! A 4-YEAR-OLD!!!!!! They have no shame!!!!! I hate-glared the bitch for the rest of the ride. Thankfully someone else gave up their seat for the little girl, but good Lord was I pissed at that ajjumma. I have many other horrible ajjumma stories (as do all foreigners and Koreans alike), but this one is the most poignant. Remember, ajjummas are not elderly and you are not required to give up your seat for them.)

To sum it up, the best way to avoid being a stereotypical foreigner is by not acting like a jackass. Don’t be rude or disrespectful to people. Be quiet in public places. Be polite when you drink. These are easy things to do, and if you do them, Korea can become a better place for all foreigners. 

Why did I come to Korea?

I got asked this question last night. For starters, this question actually peeved me. Not the question itself, but the conversation that led up to the question.

I was at a dinner, welcoming incoming students to Korea University, where I started asking the age old question, “Why did you come to Korea?” Some replied it’s because they have family here, some said just to see, but the overwhelming majority said “K-pop”. There was no other reason for them to be in Korea. The sole reason they came was for the cookie cutter K-pop world.

The restaurant we went to happened to have music videos playing in the background. Anytime a K-pop band appeared on the screen, the large table of 20 went silent to intently stare at the screen filled with gorgeous boys or girls, occasionally letting out screams when their favorite idol did “idol things”. This left the remaining few of us in awkward silence while we watched these girls salivate over a TV screen.

When the question came back to me, asking why I came to Korea, they first asked if I was part Korean. I am not. Then they asked if I liked K-pop. I do not. Then they all looked at me perplexed. “Then why did you come to Korea?”

The question, when asked in such a way completely dumbfounded me. Why do people like to go to France, or Spain, or Australia? Are they going simply because they are obsessed with the pop culture there? What reason is there to go to another country other than for pop culture or family?

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before simply replying, “Just because.” I did come to Korea “just because.” When looking to study abroad, Korea wasn’t even on my map. I knew of North Korea, I knew my grandfather fought in the Korean War, and I butchered the pronunciation of Seoul. However, when asking about going to a different country, the man at the study abroad booth said, “Hey, what about Korea instead?” He then proceeded to tell the story of how he wound up in Korea. He didn’t choose it, as a matter of fact, he wanted to go to China, but he didn’t get accepted so it was suggested to him that he go to Korea instead. So he did. And he loved it. The story he told me was a story filled with love and passion. I thought to myself, maybe I can love Korea, too.

When the time came for me to actually study abroad, Korea was on my list, but it was not my first choice. Rather, I wanted to go to Japan.  However, in a twist of fate, I couldn’t go to Japan and had to “settle” for Korea. I’m not going to lie; I wasn’t excited about this at first. I really, truly wanted to go to Japan. I had been fascinated with Japan ever since I was a little kid, from the history to the culture to the fashion. I wanted to experience Japanese culture, not Korean.

Something my mother taught me was to always look on the bright side. Even if a situation is grim, there is one shimmer of light. So I went to Korea, knowing nothing about the language and culture, I made the decision that I must look on the bright side, and since I loved Japanese history and culture so much, why not give that same chance to Korea?

I have never regretted giving Korea that chance.

I didn’t come here for family or K-pop, I came here for the same reasons so many students study abroad every year—I want to experience and learn a different culture, and I have loved every minute of doing so. 

Jeju Island: Part 1

Jeju Island (제주도’Jeju-do’) is considered one of the 7 natural wonders of the world, and it is indeed a beautiful island.  I recently visited and was able to spend 4 days and 3 nights on this island. I’ll be dividing this trip into 5 different posts

To get to Jeju Island, you have two options:

1)      Take a plane. Many planes for Jeju depart from Seoul and Busan. From Busan, it is about an hour-2 hour flight. From Seoul, it’s about a 2 hour flight. Ticket prices, if booked early, cost about 70,000 won or roughly $70. If booked later, it will cost about 150,000 won or more of you depart from Busan.

2)      Take a ferry. There are four main ferries: the the popular ones departs from Busan and takes about 12 hours overnight to reach Jeju whereas the other departs from Incheon and about 13-14 hours to arrive. Other ferries depart from Mokpo, taking around 3-4 hours, and from Wando, taking about 3 hours. From Busan, the ticket price is about 48,000 won or roughly $48. If you're bringing a car, that's ok. Most ferries take cars (though there is obviously a fee for that), except for ferry from Wando. Make sure to call the ferry provider before you bring your car.

• The website for the ferry from Busan to Jeju is: http://skferry.co.kr/. Their phone number is 1688-7577. The website is not in English. If you do not speak Korean, have a Korean friend help you make your reservation. 
• More details on the port that the Seokyeong Ferry '서경 카훼리' (Jeju ferry) departs from can be found here: http://www.busanpa.com/Service.do?id=engbpa_pc_ps_02_10.
•  Other ferry information can be found here: http://www.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/TR/TR_EN_5_1_5_1.jsp. 

To get around Jeju, you have three options:

1)      Take a bus.  This can be difficult. You have transfer buses and it can make getting to certain parts of the island difficult.  Fare is 1,100 won. Have a T-money card or Cash Bee card so that you don’t have to pay extra when you transfer to another bus. On the other hand, many consider this the cheaper option of getting around Jeju. However, you will be sacrificing convenience for cost. 

2)      Take a taxi. This is an expensive option, but it helps you get to parts of the island that buses don’t go. Starting fare is 2,200 won.

3)      Rent a car. This is what my friend and I did, and I feel it is the best option. You can get around the island with ease and don’t have to worry about things such as last bus. It also makes it easy to see the entire island. Since my friend is Korean, all he needed was his Korean driver’s license. Foreigners can rent cars, but they have to have their international/Korean driver’s license. For the entire four days, renting the car was 60,000 won , plus gas (which was about 50,000 won per fill-up).

My friend and I decided to take the ferry from Busan, because 1) we’re cheap and 2) we had never experienced it before. The ferry departed on Saturday at 7 PM. The ferry can be accessed by the Busan subway line; it’s at Jungang Station.

The ferry itself is similar to a jjimjilbang in that you sleep on the floor in a communal room. However, you can upgrade your room to a private for the extra cost of about 20,000 won. In the communal rooms, you are given a blanket and a black rectangle to use as a pillow. These blankets are not washed regularly so they feel kind of icky, but, the ferry is pretty hot so my friend and I actually just used them as padding rather than as an actual blanket.

The biggest drawback to the ferry was that on the day we departed to Jeju, it rained, so the ocean was super rough. The rain made the night very uncomfortable, despite having an almost empty communal room. Because of the discomfort, on the ferry back to Busan, my friend and I made the decision to get drunk so that we could sleep easier. The sea wasn't that rough on the way back, but the room was over capacity on the way back, so the alcohol did help us, giving us a very comfortable night of sleep.

**It’s important to note that the ferry does not have a shower (at least in the communal rooms), so I HIGHLY recommend that you bring wet/baby wipes so that you can feel slightly clean. My friend and I didn’t do this and felt absolutely disgusting on the first day of our trip.**

Learning How to Swim

My first two times I came to Korea, I lived in Seoul, but now, for my third time in here, I am in Ulsan. The difference between these two cities is startling.

I knew that Ulsan would be different. With Seoul, it is a 24 hour city, something to do every hour of the day. In Seoul, it is easy to get around without knowing Korean. Almost every young resident speaks at least a little of it. Every older residents of Seoul have some knowledge of English. Ulsan is not the sprawling metropolis that Seoul is.

Here in Ulsan, there is no English. Thankfully, while not fluent in Korean, I am competent in it. Yet even this competency did not quite prepare me for Ulsan. I forgot how much I relied on English in Seoul; if I was uncomfortable speaking Korea, I could just speak English, and I would be mostly understood. Now, all of a sudden, I lack the crutch that I had in Seoul.

I find myself now thrown in to the deep end of a pool with no idea how to swim. I try to learn things about the University of Ulsan, but the staff is far from cooperative, something that I am not used to when it comes to Korean culture. Even when asking in Korean, staff members who are to help the foreign students brush me off. There is a complete lack of communication at the university. While I am used to a relative lack of communication in Korean culture, I am not used to it to this degree.

So now comes my true challenge—being by myself, in a foreign land, learning how to swim. Let’s hope that I learn how to stroke through the water quickly.

Itaewon Freedom

I will start off this post by stating my utter disdain for 이태원 (Itaewon), or the foreigner’s district. Known as “Itaewon Freedom,” Itaewon is the old red light district (and still unoffically operates as one) of Seoul, and is a haven for foreigners.
 

 Itaewon Entrance

Many come to Itaewon for the eclectic food, which ranges from American to Australian to Thai, or for clothes since many foreigners cannot fit into small Korean sizes. Many others come for the nightlife at the clubs and the many foreign bars. Others though, come for the gay nightlife in Itaewon, one of the few havens for gays, lesbians, and transgender in Korea.

Itaewon though, can be a dangerous place. As mentioned earlier, it is a red light district (many natives try to claim that it is the former red light district, but no one can deny the throngs of prostitutes that come into the bars at night looking for their next customer). It is one of the few places in Korea where it is not safe for a woman to walk alone at night. Often times, there are people passed out on the streets, aggressive thugs harassing people, as well as an army of drunken foreigners who are not as good at controlling their tempers when inebriated as Koreans are.

A very common sight

While those are the negatives, Itaewon does offer positives. It was the one place in Korea that I could find a hair salon that didn’t butcher my hair (Green Turtle Salon: **EDIT** Green Turtle Hair salon has moved, as well as their amazing hair stylist. His new salon is Salon de Michel, and his salon is located near the main entrance of Itaewon. Please support this awesome hair stylist!), and it offers a little slice of home for many with its collection of foreign food restaurants. It is also one of the few places in Korea where almost everyone speaks English. When you become deprived of your native tongue for a long period of time, you have no idea how refreshing this can be. Itaewon also offers clothes for foreigners, albeit extremely overpriced and with shopkeepers who are not willing to haggle.

Food is the one great positive about Itaewon. The restaurant alley is filled with restaurants that have food from all over the world. From Mexican, to Brazilian, to French, and Japanese, you can find just about any country's food in Itaewon. Be warned though, the food,while mostly very tasty, on average costs a lot more. Expect to pay 15,000-20,000 won per meal on average. 

 

For those who belong to the LGBT community though, it can be the one place where they can feel truly welcome in Korea, which is notoriously homophobic. The so-called “Homo Hill” offers a string of bars and nightclubs for the gay and transgender community (most lesbian bars however are located in Hongdae). It is also the location of Seoul's Gay Pride Parade.

Homo Hill

While many hate Itaewon, myself included, many have an equal amount love it. For foreigners, it should be a place that should be checked out at least once. For some, it will leave a bad taste in their mouth, for others, it will become a second home. 

School: What to Expect

The general assumption of an American student when they go abroad is that their college classes will be easy. These students will be in for a rude awakening when it comes to classes in Korea.

For Koreans, studying is a way of life, because for them, taking tests is how one advances in society and determines their future success. Because of this test-taking society, classes are far more difficult than the average American is used to.

Most Korean universities base their class grades off of two tests—the mid-term and the final—, a class project, and attendance. These four things are what your entire semester is based on.

Tests will be difficult and require more intensive study than Americans are used to. As a studious student before I came to Korea, I was shocked by the amount of studying I was expected to put in to succeed in my classes. For mid-term and finals, don’t expect much, if any, sleep. Those precious hours need to be spent studying, memorizing every nook ad cranny of the notes and book.

Korean universities, or at least Korea University the university I attended, were very strict when it came to attendance. A student was allowed 5 absences before they were kicked out of class. Some teachers are even stricter. One of my teachers only allowed his students 2 absences. I was absent from his class one time because I was too sick to come to school. After this absence, he warned me that I only hada one absence left. My second absence was when I broke my foot and was literally unable to walk to class. He gave me a second warning never to miss his class again or I would fail. Both of these incidences, I told my professor that I would be unable to come to class, but as one can see, he was very strict.

But it’s not as bad as it seems.

Group projects are something that most Americans loathe as most of the time only one student does the work for the entire group. Americans will be happily surprised to learn that Koreans work well in groups and no one is left with all of the work.

Most grades are relative. This means, even if you make a 65 on a test, if the highest grade in the classes was, say, 67, congratulations, you just made an A.

The most important thing to do in order to succeed in Korean classes though is to become friends with your professors. Not only is a great contact to have a professor’s favor of you, but also, this liking leads to a better grade. Remember when I said the grades are relative. If your relationship with your professor is a good one, expect an A.

To form a relationship with your professor, visit with after class, go to their office and talk with them during office, buy them little treats, like snack from the bakery a small thing of tea or coffee. If a professor offers you side work, take it, it will work in your favor.

While classes might at first seem intimidating in Korea, in the end, they are great fun and a wonderful learning experience. Education standards are higher in Korea than they are in America; so expect to come back to America being bored in your classes. You might miss the thrill and valuable life experience of being challenged.

 

Hongdae

서울 (Seoul) is a vibrant city with something to do every hour of the day. One of the most unique places in Seoul, is the area of 홍대 (Hongdae). Hongdae is the arts district and is home to the top art university, 홍긱 대하교( Honggik University), in Korea. These students have carved out an area of Korea, making it like nothing else in the entire country.

Hongdae is home to a place where graffiti is encouraged, daily free live music shows plays, artists sell their own homemade crafts, yummy foods, unique cafes, and vibrant night culture.

Hongdae is perhaps best visually known for its stunning street art. Some of the most famous pieces of street include the Tiger Rabbit (which is now sadly gone), a playground covered in graffiti, and the month of October. The month of October is a special time in Hongdae. This is when Converse comes and holds a contest; encouraging students to paint the most unique Converse shoes are the Hongdae area. October also marks the month where the street artists display and sell their best work. It is an event not to be missed!

Saturday is a big day in Hongdae. This is the day where the Saturday market is open. The streets are flush with artists selling their crafts, from paintings, to watches, to earrings; the street market has it all. 

Food in Hongdae, like all of Korea, is everywhere. But in Hongdae, competition is stiff, so unique places pop up. One of the most famous restaurants is not actually a restaurant; it is a food stand called Bob’s Barby. For Australians, it’s a little piece of home offering Mutton Pies, but it is also famous for having the best hot dogs in Hongdae. For me as Texan, Mexican food is an integral part of my diet. Thankfully Hongdae has me covered with some very tasty Mexican food at the restaurant, Dos Tacos. And for those that really want a piece of home, there is also a Taco Bell. 

 One should know how important cafes are to Koreans. This being said, Hongdae, like everything else, has made cafes in its own ways. Hongdae offers a huge variety of cafes from the cutesy Hello Kitty Café, cat cafes (where you can play with cats while you enjoy your coffee), to a butler café.

Hongdae though is perhaps best known for its pulsating night scene. The streets of Hongdae are littered with bars, Hofs (a place to drink beer and soju), as well as small and large clubs. On Friday and Saturday nights, the streets are packed with the young people of Seoul out to take a break from the strains of university classes and have a great time.

The best night for going to the clubs in Hongdae is the last Friday of the month. This is Club Day. Club Day is where you pay 15,000 원 (won), or roughly $15, and you get into a select list of 15 or so of the best clubs in Hongdae. Be warned though, because while fun, the clubs immensely crowded on this night, and some of the patrons can be a little rowdy. 

Korean BBQ

There’s truly nothing like Korean BBQ. When my Korean friends and I muse about what we miss most about Korea, BBQ tops the list for most (소주 (soju) also tops the list, but we’ll get into that later.

So what is Korean BBQ? Well, it encompasses a whole range of meats that you grill yourself. Vegetarians beware. Dishes range from pork belly (삼겹살 (samgyeopsal)), to tender slices of beef (샤부샤부 (shabu shabu)).

샤부샤부 (shabu shabu)

There are so many choices when it comes to BBQ, and usually restaurants will have a particular specialty when it comes to it. So one restaurant will focus on 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal), and another one would focus 샤부샤부 (shabu shabu).

A 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal) resturant

The most popular Korean BBQ dish is 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal) or pork belly. Imagine bacon, but thicker, fattier, and 100x more delicious.

삼겹살 (samgyeopsal)

Now, 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal) is generally drunk with Korea’s seemingly favorite alcoholic beverage, 소수주 (soju).

수주 (soju) has a similar taste to Nyquil

As mentioned in previous posts. 소주 (soju), is the equivelent of Korean vodka, but a lot less tasty than actually vodka. Somehow though, with 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal), 소주 (soju) turns from the shot usually dreaded, to a drink that pairs quite well with the meal.

삼겹살 (samgyeopsal) is also traditional drunk with beer. Now, most westerners are a not a fan of Korean beer, and all things considered, they are right in their taste. Korean beer tends to be water and favorless, but it works magic on 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal).

The wide selection of Korean beers

Korean BBQ is best enjoyed with a group. It’s a great way to cut loose at the end of a stressful school and laugh over crappy beer and eat delicious food. Don’t miss out on this delicious culinary experience.

Yummy. 

Drinking Customs

In connection with my last post, drinking in Korea is an integral part of its culture. Drinking though, comes with its own set of customs, and knowing these customs is crucial.

           

First comes accepting a drink. You NEVER pour your own drink. It’s rude and it comes with the saying, “If you pour your own drink, you will be alone for 20 years.” Your senior will generally pour your drink if you are drinking with work colleagues, or by your business partner in a business meeting. When accepting the drink, you want to hold your glass with your right hand, and then, you put your left hand under the glass, put your left hand under your elbow, or accept with both hands. You put your left hand under the glass if the person is very important, i.e. your boss, and you put it under your elbow if it is someone closer, i.e. a friend, and with both hands for accepting a shot of soju. NEVER ACCEPT A DRINK WITH ONE HAND, even when you are with friends.

Accepting a shot of soju with both hands

This goes the same for pouring the drink. Once your drink has been poured, you are expected to the pour a drink for the person who poured yours. Always do this with both hands with the right hand pouring and the left hand under the bottle.

Notice how both of his hands are on the bottle. 

When it comes to actual drinking, there are even more rules, but these rules usually apply to when it is a more formal setting of drinking such as drinking with colleagues or business partners. When drinking from your glass, turn your head to the side, facing away from the senior member of the group (this person is usually your boss, a senior member who is hard to approach, or someone who is older than you by ten years, not a friend or close colleague), cover the drink with your hand, and then drink. This is because it is rude for the senior of the group seeing you drink alcohol.

Now these rules seem so strict, but try to follow them. If you don’t get it precisely, do not worry. Koreans will be delighted with the fact that you are trying and forgive the mistakes.

The Importance of Drinking

Drinking is to Korea as Texas is to steak. It is so essential in fact, that knowing how to hold one’s liquor is essential in advancing in the business world. For someone like me, who never drank before coming to Korea, it was a bit of a challenge to go out every weekend and be expected to get drunker than an alcoholic at a music festival. But I soon came to realize the importance of drinking in Korea and the incredibly important customs that come along with it.

Drinking, in Korean culture, is a way to form friendships and business alliances. Korea is a Confucian society, and this leads to it having a very rigid social structure as well as customs. This leads to a high level of conformity and almost complete lack of individuality. Drinking, for Koreans, became a way to escape the social norms. In Korea, when you drink, you are becoming yourself. In the West, there is forgiveness for things said while drunk, because we believe that you are a different person while drunk. This just the opposite in Korea. There, you are held highly accountable for your drinking actions, as those are the actions of your true self.

If you’re someone who does not drink, I have bad news for you, you’re going to have to learn. You’ll soon find though, that drinking with Koreans is an experience in and of itself. Quite honestly, it’s a blast. As I mentioned earlier, I never drank before coming to Korea, and since coming back, I no longer drink in America—in most part because drinking in America is no fun compared to Korea. If you’re still uncomfortable with drinking, then here’s a trick of the trade: if you’re drinking 소주 (soju, or Korean vodka), then simply and DISCREETLY poor your soju into a glass of water (or throw it behind you if there's no water). Just don’t get caught or you will insult everyone, especially the one who is pouring your drinks and paying the bill.

In my next post, I will go more into the customs of drinking. Until then 원쎳 (one shot)!

Dealing with the Reverse

Reverse culture shock doesn’t just hit you when it comes to classes, with how you dress, or how you eat. It hits all aspects of your life, from how you interact with others to simply missing the culture that became your life for an extended period of time.

I lived in Korea for a year and half. It was simply an amazing, fantastic, describable yet indescribable experience. Korea became my life. It became how I talked, how I walked, ate, slept, studied, and interacted. It dominated my way of thinking. It became my second set of lungs, bringing me vital oxygen to sustain my life.

Now, displaced, my second set of lungs is now shrinking. I am suffocating.

I go to bed early, no reason to stay up. I wake up early, there is studying to do. I eat small meals, all low in fat. Why mess up the balance in my body with something fried? Every facet of my life, I find I am comparing it with Korea. It is whirling me into a deep depression that I am struggling to swim my way out of.

On Sunday, I turned 21. Even though my mom had traveled 6 and a half hours to see me, even though my old friends slapped together a party for me, I still cried. I cried as I read messages from Korea. I cried as my Korean and International friends wished me a happy birthday. I heaved as my body ached to be back home in Seoul, surrounded by familiar sights, sounds, tastes, and talks.

I angered myself as I cried. There was no reason. I am home. I need to get used to it. But that is like telling broken toe to stop hurting.

My anger with myself fueled me to change. I cannot live in a rut. The only one who can improve the situation is me. So, I have begun to take steps to help me tackle this mountain of reverse culture shock.

Firstly, one of the things I am suffering from the most is the lack of international exposure. For a year and a half, I was rarely around Americans, and though on one hand it is great to be amongst my people again, it is a struggle because I now cannot interact with the many cultures that I once did. To tackle this hill, I have joined two clubs. The first club is the Conversation Partner Program where I help international exchange students improve their English. The second club is the Foreign Diplomats where I will assist students who are about to go abroad.

After this, finding a job to fill any free time will be of utmost importance. I’m used to being busy every second of the day. Lag time frustrates and depresses me. I will try to find a job that will expose me to international students or at the very least, some other part of Texas other than Lubbock.

I never thought I would have to deal with reverse culture shock, or at least deal with it in the way that I am. So I must take steps to rid myself of it. Small steps, yes, but steps nonetheless. 

Readjustment

When you start calling a place home, it is difficult to forget what it taught you. After living in Korea for a year and a half, Korea became a place that left a deep impression on me and gave me habits that will never leave me. I never thought readjusting to American society would be so difficult.

Crowds I am used to, so trips to the mall or grocery store to pick up small things came with ease. It is things like driving and dressing that cause me the greatest trouble.

Crossing a street still takes 5 seconds of hesitation, making sure no one will run the red light and hit me. Traffic is now doable. I’m no longer constantly on edge for people looking for 5 feet to cut me off. But with every car’s swerve, I hold my breath, waiting for them to rush into my lane. I feel danger.

Dressing, I am finding, has become the hardest to get used to. There was not a day in Korea where I went without make-up. There was not a day where I did not dress my best to attend class or merely walk on the streets. But, amongst this sea of American students, I now stand out. My hair is neatly kept, a fresh layer of make-up is applied to my face, and of course, I am wearing fine clothes. I sit wearing these things amongst ranks of sweatshirt and pajama clad students. I am alone.

I walk through campus, amazed by the amount of space it takes up. Why does it need this much space? Why is it organized like this? Nothing flows. The buildings are harsh and obtuse, haphazardly placed throughout dusty ground with no consideration of how it fits in its surroundings. I cringe.

As I walk past campus food courts, I shudder, nearly pinching my nose shut. I am amazed at how fatty and fried the foods are. There is no consideration for health. The price shocks me even more. I can get a single sandwich for $5 whereas I used to be able to a get a full me with side dishes for $3. My wallet aches.

When classes begin, I find myself sighing with relief; there are quizzes AND homework assignments, not just 2 exams. I look at the students around me who groan about the course load, but I smile. I am a better student?

Korea is still in me. A month should have been enough time to adjust myself back into Western society, yet here I am, still stuck in the East. I am alone. I am singled out. I am special. I know the world. 

The Final Adventure

They that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. For me, this didn’t happen—I just began to say my goodbyes.

Two weeks before my flight home, I began having very vivid dreams of a plane crash. Not one to be paranoid, I chalked the dreams up to stress and didn’t think anything more of them. Nonetheless, while my plane was still at the gate, I said a little prayer to God asking for a safe flight home.

Having been a frequent flyer my entire life, flying is not something scares me. So when the plane experiences turbulence, I merely shake it off, and think nothing of it, often times laughing a little at those who fear a little bump. So, when I become terrified of turbulence, it’s not a little thing.

When my flight reached the halfway point, we began to experience turbulence. I noticed that the turbulence was more severe than normal, and became a little worried, simply because of my haunting nightmares, but I told myself, “Cowboy up,” and continued watching the in-flight entertainment. The turbulence got more severe though, to the point where I was concerned. This concern was heightened when I saw flight attendants not walking, but running to their seats. I can tell you as a frequent flyer that this is not a settling sight.

The turbulence continued to get more severe, and I began to clutch my armrests for dear life. It was then I realized how severe the situation was—a flight attendant took a spot by the emergency exit. I looked to my right, to the Korean pastor sitting by my side. I found comfort in that there was a man of God sitting next to me in what might be my final moments.

As the turbulence continued, I began to pray again, telling God that I was not ready to die; I just wanted to see my family on Christmas. And then—freefall. What felt like 7 seconds was probably in reality only 1 or 2, but it was enough time for me to stop thinking about not wanting to die, and I began saying good-bye.

Yes, there were screams. I’m sure I was screaming, too. When the freefall stopped, I felt that my face was wet with tears. I wasn’t sure when I began to cry. The turbulence continued, and I prayed that we would not have another freefall. Today was Christmas and I just wanted to see my family.

After another 20 or so minutes of turbulence, the plane finally evened out after rerouting itself. I unclamped my hands from the armrest, fingers now cramped, hands now white. Around me, several people got up to use the restroom for they had soiled their pants. I was surprised I hadn’t.

I looked at the people around me, all of us still breathing heavy and wincing at every bump. It was then I noticed that my pinky was throbbing, and I took a look at it. It was now swollen and blue, and I realized that in my fear, I had broken my pinky by clamping down so hard on my armrests.

For the remainder of the flight, I instinctively grabbed my armrest at any bump. I noticed people wincing with every wrong movement of the plane. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that when we landed, I almost kissed the ground.

Now I sit in the San Francisco airport, waiting for my next flight. I’ve never been one who is afraid of flying, but now, I don’t know if I can bring myself to board. 

Packing for Home

They say that packing to go to your destination is the hardest part, but in reality, it’s packing to go home.

Coming to, you only have to worry about what to bring, and what ever is missing can be purchased upon arrival. But, packing to go home, whatever you leave stays behind. Whether that be a sock, a friend, a favorite coffee shop, or boyfriend. If these are not packed, they stay behind forever.

These things last as memories. They last a receipts kept in you wallet, ticket stubs tossed in your purse, pictures on your camera that you never got around to uploading. The strongest thing you have to keep is a memory of brilliant smile.

What I remember here? Who will I remember? Will I remember the feeling of 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal, pork belly) as it burns my tongue, the bitter taste of 소주 (soju, Korean vodka) as I do it in “원셧!” (One shot!), the sight of street vendors selling every knick-knack that you can think of?

As I pack things into my suitcase, I trace my hand across my Korea University shirts. At Texas Tech, I only own one shirt that I bought quickly before a football game, but here, I have over 6 shirts with Korea University proudly displayed on the front along with several sweaters of the same variety. Why have I collected these? Will these things be my memory of students who have given me my most cherished memories?

I can only hope as I pack my remaining souvenirs into my bag, that I will return to Korea one day. I have lived here for so long and have become so comfortable calling it my home. How can I not come back when this place has become all that I love and know?

The Last Day

I didn’t really think about. With projects and finals crushing down on me, I didn’t even have time to think about. Sleepless nights, caffeine overload, a burst eye vessel from too much studying—so many things to make you go numb to what you’re supposed to be feeling.

I raised my head from my desk as my 5 a.m. alarm went off, warning me that I was stupid and fell asleep while studying. Groggily, I rubbed my eyes, and stretched, cramming for the last few precious hours I had before my last final. As I slipped on fresh clothes and packed up my bag, I looked at my table and saw my camera. In an instant, emotion ran to the back of my throat—today was my last day at Korea University.

I began cursing myself, angry that I let myself get so overwhelmed with school that I didn’t let myself enjoy the last few precious moments that I had at this wonderful place. Before running out the door, I quickly snatched my camera; I don’t know why, the day was grey and I would be meeting no one since they were just like me, too absorbed in their books.

Rushing to the bus, I ran through cold air, trying not to think about my final, and least of all, my time coming to a close. When I arrived at the school, I sat in the business lounge, like I had so many times before. Seated in a plush red chair, I looked around at the astounding room. Glass reaching the ceiling three stories high, couches and tables neatly aligned for comfort and efficiency, students leaning over papers, desperately cramming in the final minutes before their test. I breathed deeply. Would this be my last breath here?

When the final ended, I walked out of class, thinking of going straight to my bus stop so that I could go home and get some much needed sleep, but I paused as I took out my gloves. I wanted to stay here, just for a little bit longer. So I shoved my gloves back into my bag and began to walk down Korea University’s famous underground passage. With each step I took, I inhaled deeply and memorized every detail that I could.

Will I remember how my shoes clack on marble floors? Will I remember the smell of books from the libraries that line the hall? Will I remember the intricate patterns on the floor that I have ignored so many times before? Will I forget the frustration every time someone suddenly stops in front of me? As I reached the end of the hall, I looked back at the crowd of students behind me, desperately trying to get into a study lounge. Will this be the last time I see it?

I left the warmth of the underground to the harsh cold outside, but suddenly, it didn’t feel cold. I felt so warm. I looked around me as I watched students run to their final and couples meander down the street. I thought of the times when these people who I barely knew helped me in my times of need, people who barely knew me who would smile and talk to me when they saw I was alone, people who filled the university with the love and warmth that Korea is famous for.

As I walked around every last inch of campus, I remembered all the friends who I had met over the last year and a half. Who would I remember them 10 years from now? Who would remember me? Will I ever forget this place that I have called my home for so long?

I sat down at the bench near the main gate, looking at the gorgeous architecture that Korea University possessed, and began to be filled with bittersweet thoughts. My time here was been a blessing. The people I have met, the places I have been, I do not have the words to describe how wonderful they are. My life here has been nothing short of amazing, and I find myself shocked with how comfortable I am calling this place home. But…

Will I ever come back?

Rain Farewell Concert

I’ll say this right off the bat, I’m not a huge K-pop fan. Actually, I really don’t like it all. But, I have been living in Korea for such a long period of time that I figured I should eventually go to one. The problem was, I didn’t like any K-pop band enough to actually pay for a ticket to go and see them (with the exception of TVXQ, because they defy amazing).

One day, a friend of mine posted on Facebook about a free K-pop concert, and being college student, the word “free” instantly caught my eye. One of Korea’s biggest stars (if not the biggest), Rain (or Bi), was giving one farewell concert before his mandatory military enlistment, where he would be spending the next two years.

It was the perfect opportunity. One, it was free, and two, it was in Seoul, which meant that I didn’t have to pay for an expensive train ticket to get there (remember the whole not wanting to pay thing; that included transportation). So, I grabbed my roommate and we headed down to the concert.

Our first thought upon arrival was dear lord, we forgot how popular this man is. Though we arrived 3 hours early, there was still almost nowhere to stand and see the stage.

We eventually managed to find a spot, though we had a nice crane and tree blocking the middle of the stage. After standing for 3 hours, the concert finally started and the 10,000+ member audience roared with applause.

Rain sang with great passion (though he was having microphone troubles, which made his singing quite hard to hear at times, and displayed his signature (and amazing dance moves.

As the concert came to a close, we noticed that Rain had not done one thing—display his signature abs. He did not disappoint.

After drying off from dancing in the rain, Rain returned to the stage to say his farewell to the audience. He thanked us for our support for the last 10 years, and how wonderful it is that we turned out to say farewell to him. He talked about joining the air force, and that he hoped, when he returns in 2 years, that we will love him just the say as we loved him that night. There was not a dry eye in the audience.

But ending on a sad note has never been Rain’s style, so he left us with one final anthem, the Party Rock Anthem.

(They danced to this for about 10 minutes)

In the end, I was glad that I went. Rain proved to be entertaining and I could finally say that yes, I have been to a K-pop concert.

On an end note, RAAAAAIIIIIIIN!!!!!!!

Stephen Colbert vs Rain - Dance Off by stephencolbert