Soul can be so geometric! A glass tsunami....a kinky building or ten.
“And
the people bowed and prayed...to the Neon God they made.” ~ Simon &
Garfunkel
That is
what Korea feels like to me. Sometimes I think, a writer's body is
like that of a woman – if the old blood doesn't come out, she feels
crummy. There's something in a writer's system that makes it
mandatory to distill that dry residue of one's experience
periodically and let it out into the world.
Being a
neophyte waygook, I've been observing the ways of Korea with the eyes
of a curious, somewhat impartial outsider. And, I must say, I've
NEVER been to a country with which I feel less resonance. Not ever.
I now realize poignantly my naivete thinking that just because I've
spent over a year trotting around many parts of Asia, Korea would be
anything like them. Even remotely relatable. It is not. So much so
that it might as well be Mars.
Some amazing futuristic geometry in Seoul's architecture.
Disclosure:
so as not to hedge at every word, I will use “they” or “Koreans”
to pertain to “most of Koreans” - naturally, there are exceptions
anywhere. I am merely reflecting on the trends I observe.
Korea
has once been known to the world as “The Hermit Kindgdom.” In
many ways, it is still that. People are so deeply entrenched in their
Korean “reality bubble,” that it's a fortune to meet a person
having even a vague reference to the “outside world.” Their life
rotates with a certain disheartening inevitability around the
Confucian circle of their extended families, school and work. Koreans
value predictability. They seek out routine.
The
epitome of this routine are the schedules of Korean children. For the
first couple months, I asked my kids curiously about what they did
the day before or on the weekend. However, I quickly got disheartened
by a robot-like recital of “I went to school, then my piano
academy, then my math academy, then my chess academy, then my
taekwondo academy – then I was too tired to have dinner and went
straight to bed at 9:30.” All that at 8 years old. As the director
of the school explained to me, once I inquired about this phenomenon:
“Korean moms don't like to see kids have fun – they want them
busy all the time.” Indeed!
Korea
is a land of extremes. If one works – it is 13 hours a day and with
a 5 day a year vacation [that the whole country takes on the SAME
five days!]. If one hikes – one better have all the latest
fashionable gear [outrageously expensive here] and sport it proudly,
stopping every 100 metres for a barbecue. Yes, they take the grills
for the purpose, complete with a few pounds of meat. And that's for a
few hours' worth of hike.
There
is a paradigm that is almost tangible here - “one must ALWAYS be
busy. Even when one is resting.” There is an underlying sense of
perpetual rush. Rush without a good reason. Rush for the sake of
being busy. Work-life balance is a non-existent concept here.
People are infinitely "plugged in." Free WI-FI is ubiquitous. Several friends will be seating at the same table and all of them will be fully absorbed in their smart-phones paying no attention to each other...
I have
never seen businesses come and go at the speed they do here. "Business at the speed of thought" indeed! Like
mushrooms after the rain! On the two blocks between my home and work,
at least 8 businesses have closed and about as many new ones have
opened. In three months. There is a general sense of flux, of
impermanence, of the Darwinian undercurrent. Survival of the
fittest. The scent of fear is in the air.
Life is
lived for the future – the future of winning a decent spot under
the sun – first at a good elementary school, than middle, than
high, than the University, than a glorious 13 hour a day job in some
office as a “salaryman.” The rat race that puts most Western
ideas of one to shame.
When I
asked some Koreans about this observation – they agreed and simply
said “it's because of the competition. There are so many of us
here!” And it's true – there are 50 million people here on the
little “thimble” of Korea. 1/3 of the population of Russia! “Why
don't you consider going some place with a smaller population
density?” - I asked some. “Koreans don't want to go outside of
Korea to live, generally. That requires knowing English well and
leaving family behind – most would rather deal with competition.”
Seoul's smart-phoning metro
If
India is Yin, the gentle, the Feminine, than Korea is definitely the
Yang. The harsh, cold, masculine. The knowledge here is taken in the
way that business is conducted – by sheer force. The students learn
by rogue memorization and soul-less repetition. Independent and
creative thought is not welcome.
“Though
shalt not question thine elders” - is the unspoken prime Confucian
tenet underlying the very fabric of Korean life. It used to surprise
me to no end when I would ask the students to back up their opinions
by asking “why?” There is simply no better way to get a
glassy-eyed look from a Korean student. Just ask “why?” According
to an ancient local proverb, “the tallest blade of grass gets cut
first.”
Koreans
treat each other as family, generally. They commonly address each
other as “brother/sister” or “big brother/big sister”
regardless of the blood relation. Though, an occasional “old
woman/old man” is also heard. Sometimes, that can become a source
of much hilarity. One British expat shared that his students would
call him “furry, bearded old man” [thanks to the heavy
testosterone-induced vegetation on his arms] – at the ripe old age
of 30.
Perchance,
due to the long-term hermit status, the society here is surreally
xenophobic. In a somewhat favourable way if you are a pale-faced
waygook. Not so favourable, alas, if your skin is darker than that of
an average Korean. Skin fairness is one of the most prized attributes
in this acutely beauty-conscious society. And I don't mean natural,
human beauty. I mean a very narrow ideal of beauty – one even more
strict than the emaciated, airbrushed image plastered all over
Cosmopolitans and Vogues of the world.
Both
men and women will pay dearly to resemble this artificial beauty
ideal. Tall. White. Skinny. With a square jaw for men and an pointed
chin for women. With big eyes and bigger chest. Slender shins. It is
not uncommon for several 6 year old kids in a class to have already
had a double eye-lid surgery [for those Anime eyes – the better to
see you, my dear!]. It is just as common for parents to give their
daughter a rhinoplasty for her 16th birthday or a chin-job
for a son. Because that chin can give him a better shot at a job
placement. Photos are explicitly requested here along with the
resume. No joke.
And, as
if that is not enough, many women will undergo extensive shin surgery
to shave off enough soleus/gastrochnemius muscles that many will
actually fall forward when they get up on those exotic-dancer-worthy
high heels that many pair with their mini-skirts here, as they won't
have enough muscle to hold themselves up! The plastic surgery
industry is cherry-blossoming here, naturally. The Farsi proverb
comes to mind: “kill me but make me beautiful!”
Being a
litigation-happy Nor Cal gal, I simply observe this extreme non-PC
world in wonder. Political correctness is simply not a part of the
Korean vocabulary. Portly people are discriminated against without a
blink, along with all the other “non-Korean” traits. Consequences
of a tight bubble, I suppose. And it's very clear that this is not
done out of any malice, but simply from ignorance and different value
set. People will smile widely as they ask: “which one do you mean
– the big/fat Shannon or the normal Shannon?”
To this
moment, Korea is the most materialistic country I have ever
experienced. Even more so than Russia and Vietnam. I remember once
seeing a little dog that would literally turn upside down and mark
trees in that inverse configuration, presumably in order to appear as a much
larger dog to the potential territorial invaders. Well, when I see
the crowds of posturing people dressed in brands they cannot afford
and teenagers toting 1000+$ purses, the image of that upside-down dog
comes to mind. One of my friend's Korean high-school students has
written an essay pontificating on the materialism of the modern
Korean culture. His girlfriend refused to use a purse worth less than
800 USD.
Status
and hierarchy are everything in this society.
As an
outsider, I feel acute awareness of this posturing. It is something I
have seen in Russia 20 years ago – at the dawn of the Russian-style
fierce capitalism, where the people broke lose from the socialist
ways and began flaunting their new-found wealth like a child with a
new and rare toy.
Kinky Seoul - Gangnam. Yes - THAT Gangnam that Psy made fun of.
It made
me reflect on the few rapidly developing societies I've experienced.
I have seen something similar in Malaysia as well. Though, the fierce
drive seemed somewhat tempered somewhat with the warmer climate and
gentle Buddhist influences, perchance. And, perchance, in Vietnam. A
rapid, unconscious, fierce expansion over the course of 20 years.
From 0 to the bullet-train speed. “Hungry” is the vibe that
permeates the modern culture here. And I feel dissonance with that.
It's a rushed, adrenaline-based way of life coming from a place of
scarcity and fear, it seems. Perchance, the pendulum has to swing all
the way to the other extreme after the time of extreme poverty and
oppression before coming to a more tempered, more humane range...
At the
same time,there are moments of unexpected kindness from folks young
and old. Like when you get into a taxi freezing and an old woman on a
front seat turns and takes your hands to warm them. A stranger
showing another human being love. Or a young woman you just met
helping you look up which bus you must take with her smart phone and
then offering to give you a ride to a faraway beach. It's one of
those strange dichotomies – a Korean Konundrum, of sorts! The
society and country as a whole does not feel welcoming, yet some
individuals are very much so.
