The One With Aldacron

One of the things I can say with certainty about the past 15 years living in Korea is that I have learned something of human nature I might not have otherwise. Korea is not plagued with racism as most Western countries are. Very few foreigners actually immigrate. Most of the foreigners that do live here are temporary residents. Over the past few years, though, there has been an explosion of marriages between Koreans and foreigners. This is largely attributable to the growth of wedding services used by Korean men. There is (supposedly) an imbalance in the male:female ratio (I’ve heard varying statistics, but Korean males outnumber Korean females by a large margin), so some men are looking for brides from southeast Asia (the Phillipines and Malaysia particularly) or the Baltic states. Still, Korea is mostly indigenous.

Being a white American male, my experience is vastly different from that of some other foreigners here. For one thing, southeast Asian and Baltic (Russian, Ukrainian usually) females are often assumed to either be prostitutes working in a special sort of bar (a Room Salon or ‘hostess bar’ depending on the layout), a mail order bride, or, in the case of Phillipinos, maybe a singer in a hotel lounge band. Southeast Asian males are assumed to be factory workers. I have no idea what they think Baltic males are (though I do hear the Korean word for ‘gangster’ tossed around alot in that context). White males don’t get branded with any of that, though. I can’t know exactly what people think of me when I pass them on the street or when they stare at me on the subway, but based on my experiences meeting people in different circumstances (taxi drivers, students in my classes, people looking to practice their English while waiting for a bus, and so on) I can pretty much guess.

First, just the fact that I’m white means most people assume that I’m American. In my case that happens to be true, but whites from other countries get tired of hearing it. An Australian friend of mine told me once that he had gotten so sick of correcting people that he had given up and was starting to believe he really was American. During the early days of the Iraq War a Canadian friend went to a baseball game with a Korean date and found himself the target of a group of anti-American college students who threw popcorn and ice at him, yelled obscenities (a favorite of Korean college students is “Puck You”) and called his date a whore.

Once a new acquaintance has verified that I am, indeed, an American, they next speculate on my job. Koreans won’t ask you, “what’s your job?”. They will instead ask you, “are you a/n soldier/english teacher”. Most of the time, people will assume I am either a tourist or an English teacher. When I cut my hair short, they might assume I’m a soldier (though I have noticed that happening much less frequently as I get older). Were I to wear a suit, they would be more inclined to think me a businessman. As it stands, I usually get the English teacher bit. Whatever they think my purpose in Korea, nearly everyone will assume that I have just stepped off of the plane. They are eager to ask if I have tried this or that Korean dish, or been to this or that tourist location. At any rate, the thought that I may have been here for a while never enters their heads - they never ask, “How long have you been here,”, but rather jump immediately to the touristy stuff.

Another assumption people make, which follows from the just-off-the-boat philosophy, is that I can’t speak any Korean. Teenage girls in fast food restaurants stare in wide-eyed horror as I approach the counter, quickly calling for a superviser or anyone else nearby so that they don’t have to speak English. Sales clerks make derisive comments to their coworkers behind my back, thinking I have no idea what they are saying (this has become more common over the past couple of years since I have gained some weight and my gut is showing - the “Fat American” jokes get old).

The most bizarre assumption people make is that I always want to eat hamburgers. I understand that burgers are quite popular in America and that some people go overboard, but Koreans seem to think all Americans eat them two or three times a day and that when there are no hamburgers to be had we settle for steak. I suppose that opinion is easily reinforced by the number of foreigners that can be seen at any given McDonald’s or Burger King here. I think for most foreigners in Korea it’s a matter of conveniece - cheap, fast, and safe. Perhaps some are uncomfortable ordering on their own at a Korean restaurant, as I used to be in my early years here. These days I have no problems ordering Korean food, but when I’m in a hurry I’ll drop by McDonald’s because it’s faster than any Korean restaurant. If a group of businessmen invite me to dinner, unless they know me well they always take me to a place to eat “korean barbecue” (which isn’t barbecue at all - just grilled beef or pork) of one kind or another. They never bother to ask if I’d like something else. I’m American, therefore I must eat red meat and nothing else.

Most of these are harmless assumptions that make for casual, if tiring and redundant, conversation. If I take three taxis in a day I will be forced to sit through the same questions three times. It’s like all of the taxi drivers follow a script, all of it based in large part on the assumptions I laid out above. Unfortunately, there are some people who make negative assumptions before they even talk to me.

Just the other day I handed a $100 cashier’s check (for lack of a better term - 100,000 won is roughly $100 and there is no 100,000 won denomination in bills - they use a sort of printed check issued by the bank) to a new clerk at a DVD shop I have frequented for over a year. He immediately asked his supervisor if it was okay to take those checks from a foreigner. I knew immediately what he meant. When paying with such a check, the customer is required to write name and phone number on the back. He was afraid I might be passing off a counterfeit check with a fake name and number. The problem is that this sort of crime has been in the news from time to time, when commited by a foreigner. You never hear about Koreans doing it, but it doesn’t mean they don’t. Besides, I have never seen a sales clerk ask anyone, foreigner or Korean, for an ID card to verify the name.

Once in a while, when confronted with such blind ignorance, I snap. Little incidents like that build up over time, when I don’t say anything, until it all just explodes. That happened in this particular case. My wife saw that my face had clouded over and asked what was wrong. I told her, in Korean, that I was pissed about what the guy had said. Once the clerk got over the initial shock that I could understand Korean (not because of what he had said, just genuine surprise that I understand the language), he asked what I was angry about. I told him. He said, assuringly, that it’s nothing against me. It’s just that foreigners sometimes use counterfeit bank checks. I replied, “Koreans never do?”. He answered that, of course they do. “Then how am I different”, I demanded, “Because I’m not Korean I’m more likely to hand you a fake check?” I had been growing angrier by the minute. While he fumbled for an answer to my question, and while his supervisor tried unsuccessfuly to apologize, I tossed my membership card at them and stormed out, declaring that I would never shop there again.

All of the assumptions Koreans make about me, the good, the bad, even the really frustrating, have helped shape me into a better person. While I have learned to be tolerant of most others, I have zero tolerance for racism or negaitve assumptions based on race (as my outburst at the DVD shop proves). Back before I set out to see the world, still confined to my little patch of it outside of Atlanta, Georgia, my mind was nearly as closed as most of the people around me. I’ve never been a racist, but back then I wasn’t appreciative of the fact that racism isn’t just about calling people names and passing them over for promotion because of the color of their skin. It’s more than that. When was the last time you looked at someone from the Middle East without the word “terrorist” entering your head? How many times have you walked by a big black man late at night and hoped that he didn’t mug you as he passed? Before coming to Korea, in the Job Corps, I had what I thought had been an eye opening experience.

Being an 18 year-old white guy on a 2,000+ member, majority black, Job Corps campus, which we were forbidden to leave without permission, is something I will never forget. I made a lot of great friends there and most of them, unlike me, came from the street. It was an entirely different world for me. Unfortunately, many of the black majority saw it as a turning of the tables. One Friday night every few weeks was White Night - that’s when we ‘crackers’ stayed in our dormitories if we were smart. The one White Night that I was caught outside I found myself surrounded by a group of guys (they actually called them ‘posses’ back then). One of them stepped up to my face and asked where I was from. When I squeaked out that I was from Georgia, he turned back to his friends and said that they can’t mess with a homeboy, shook my hand, and walked away. I ran back to my dorm, counting my lucky stars that it was the Georgia posse that found me and not another. One of my dorm mates, nicknamed ‘Cowboy’ because of his bowed legs, turned on me one night. I had thought him a friend, but he told me in no uncertain terms that he wanted to do to me what my father did to his father (figuratively, not literally) and had no desire to be my friend. I had never been exposed to the effects of racism at this level, nor to the other side of it.

While the Job Corps did open my eyes a great deal, my experience overseas has been life-altering. On a trip to Manilla, the Phillipines, I was shown around town and lectured on the culture by a French man who had lived there for 25 years. In Fukuoka, Japan I met a New Zealander who, in addition to becoming an invaluable contact for a couple of deals I got involved with, familiarized me with Japanese culture and introduced me to some Japanese I still have contact with several years later. Here in Seoul I have met and learned from Australians, Malaysians, Iranians, Israelis, Ukrainians, Russians, Norwegians, Brazilians, and many more. All races, colors, religions, and lifestyles. Best of all, I met my lovely wife.

Through all of this I have learned that the world is much bigger than you will ever know if you stay in one place all of your life. People who take a vacation to Thailand once every couple of years aren’t getting the big picture. You have to get out there and experience the world. You will quickly learn that the preconceived notions you have about other people are usually wrong. You will learn to be more tolerant and understanding. If everyone in the world could do that, I assure you it would be a better place.

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