North Koreans weeping over the death of the "Dear Leader"

Aegyo: Korea's Cute Coquette

In Korea there is something called "aegyo". They translate it as charming, which is definitely not the best translation. Aegyo is basically when an adult acts childlike in order to come over as cute. It is usually done by women, but men sometimes do aeqyo too, particularly in the early stages of a romantic relationship. Aegyo is basically acting cute coquettishly. This is probably a good translation for aegyo: "cute coquette." Korean women usually do aegyo to break her male target's resistance as she manipulates him to do her will.



I get that aegyo is cute. I also like cute things -- a cute kitten can melt me in a second. What I don't get is why aegyo is sexy. Korean men actually thinks it is sexy when their girlfriends act like little girls. Personally I'm completely put off by it. I find the nagging-manipulation of aegyo, like any type of emotional manipulation, distasteful. Also, that men should find such childlike behaviour sexually exciting borders on paedophilia, I think. (I cannot help but wonder if there is a correlation between child sexual abuse and a culture that views childlikeness sexually attractive. I couldn't find much information on the topic; this post by The Grand Narrative may be a start.)

As I mentioned earlier, aegyo is not exclusively used by Korean women. Korean men also do aegyo, as the videos below demonstrate.





However, male aegyo sometimes works the other way. Instead of an adult trying to act cute, a young man could act more mature, self-confident or tough towards a female that is his senior. The following video illustrates this:



I've often been asked about my interest in Korean women and why I don't yet have a Korean girlfriend. There are different reasons, but one is that I really do not find aegyo sexually attractive. On some isolated occasions I thought it cute, and can appreciated it as an interesting cultural phenomenon. However, sexually it is a turn off for me. I definitely find mature women attractive, not little girls.

A bad aegyo moment. Sorry.

But, let me not be too hypocritical. I've done aegyo myself on occasion, because I know the results it gets in this culture. Also, apparently I speak Korean very cute. The reason is two fold. First, my Korean ability is quite elementary so I end up sounding a little like a toddler clumsily putting together sentences and we all know how cute that can be. Second, I used to learn much of my Korean from women, so I ended up speaking like the girls whose intonation I copied. Therefore, I'm often doing aegyo without it being my intention. I've started watching how Korean men act tough in Korean films and have tried that instead, but from the reactions of some of my students I think it came across as the reverse aegyo that men sometimes used, which I spoke about earlier. While I'm not a fan of aegyo, I catch myself sometimes being an aegyo culprit.

Ho-ddeok

A short video I took of ajumeoni (Korean aunties) making ho-ddeok, a sweet pancake filled with brown sugar, cinnamon and crushed nuts and other secret ingredients.



The music is by Kang San Ae.

Wangdda -- Korean Outcasts

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I have two wangdda in some of my classes this semester. A wangdda 왕따 is a type of social outcast in Korea. (The Japanese equivalent is lijime.) In a group orientated society, being a wangdda is unimaginably hard. To become wangdda could be quite arbitrary like being bullied at school usually is. In general, however, any sign of being a little different, could have you ostracised. What bothers me though is that I always thought wangdda to be children's phenomenon. Korean school children would pick out a student and bully and ostracise the child.

I never expected it to continue into adulthood. The two wangdda are not bullied, but they are completely ignored. While this ought not generally be a problem, it is whenever I require students to do group work. I would assign these students into groups, but find that the other students completely ignore them. Once the groups had to do presentations and I think I heard this one group actually telling the one student not to come to class during the next class. I might be mistaken because my Korean is not that great and I wasn't standing close to the group when they spoke, but that is what I thought I heard. It is a big challenge to teach a class where such covert ostracising is occurring, especially a skills oriented class like Conversational English that constantly require pair work and group work.

In an individual society it is difficult to be ostracised, but individuality is often celebrated so that once you are an adult, it becomes okay. I remember that in school I was sometimes ostracised for being the weird, sensitive, artistic boy. As I got older it became easier, and by the time I went to university I found out that there were many other freaks just as weird as me and I made a great group of odd and creative friends. In Korea it is different. There are not that many subcultures and students that stand out as individuals are actually quite few. In fact, I often encourage and compliment any students that show originality and uniqueness, since these are values that I treasure and are probably undervalued in Korea. There's a famous idiom in Korea: The nail that stands up gets hammered down. I try to build up those lonesome nails; hopefully they'll survive the hammering if someone valued them enough.

Read more about wangdda here,

What's in a Name?

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One of the first Korean friends I made was a student of mine that I taught English at a language institute in 2006. His name, Jun Hyun-Jin. Recently Jun Hyun-Jin suddenly became Jun I-Sum. Why? Well apparently the Korean Sound Wave Name Institute convinced him that his name Jun Hyun-Jin is full of bad luck. If he kept his name, they told him something to the effect that he will suffer from serious ill health later in life, he'll get a terrible wife, have weakly children, and never advance his career. They suggested he change his name to avert these travesties and proposed the name Jun I-Sum, which he did. I don't know how much he paid for their services, but he paid over $1000 to have his name officially changed.

Personally I think it is all hogwash and suspect that it is not much different from numerology or other such superstitions.

Then again, there is much to be said for a name. Would Oprah have been the success she is today were her name Mary-Sue? Would Madonna have been equally iconic if she was known by her middle Louise instead? Or if she hused her family name and was known as Madonna Ciccone?

In the Bible, names often carry meaning, usually describing the character of the person. Bible characters would sometimes undergo a name change. Abram became Abraham. Jacob became Isaac. Simon became Peter. Saul became Paul. The name change often signalled a character change.

I once had a friend who were verbally and physically abused by her father. As an adult she decided that the negative associations with her name--her father always shouting her name--disturbed her, so she took up another name. She wanted a unisex name so we decided on Toni. With her new name, signifying a new start and a strong character, Toni was able to commence her journey of recovery after years of abuse.

Similarly, my younger brother who has a four syllable first name that people always mispronounce decided to shorten his name to a two syllable name. Later still, his friends adopted a one syllable nickname, Nate, which most people now use. While I liked the two syllable name, Nethan, I also like the name Nate. These days I see that he use different versions of his name, the original four syllable one, the two syllable one, and the one syllable one, in different situations, to good effect.

I'm sure that my own name also had an influence on who I am today. My real names are proper English names. However, our nanny gave me a Sesotho / Tswana name, which ended up becoming the name my family used. I grew up with an African name, which always made me stand out within white contexts. I'm sure this must have had an influence on how people treated me, and how I interacted with people. (If you want to know my name, you can see it on my poetry blog: Ingelegde Lywe.) In Korea my name is very similar to a common Korean name 상국, so that Koreans always ask me after I introduced myself to them if it is my Korean name, then I always have to explain to them, no, it is an African name, I am from South Africa. It has become such a trite routine, that I am shocked when it doesn't happen. Since my name sounds Korean I have opted to use 이상구 Lee Sang-Goo as my Korean name.

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While I still think that the Korean Sound Name Wave Institute is a sham, I agree, that there is much to be said for a name.

Korea's Drinking Culture and Why I'm a Teetotaller

Saturday night and Sunday I spent with a group of mostly Koreans and some foreigners at a martial art excursion. This had not been my first such an outing with Koreans, so I expected there to be a lot of drinking and therefore prepared myself psychologically for it. As I am a teetotaller, I need such preparation. In general, teetotallers are a minority, but here in Korea with its extreme drinking culture teetotallers are almost non-existent.

Sometimes they start 'em young.
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If you do not drink in Korea, you are practically ostracised, for almost all social outings include alcohol. Somebody that doesn't drink with the group is considered unsociable and rude. I remember one occasion where I joined a group of Koreans and when I refused to drink I was basically told to leave by one person. Another senior Korean with whom I have close ties came to my rescue and persuaded them that I should stay since I am his “chinggu” (friend) and explained that it is part of my “religion,” which is a half-truth. However, I'm sure that had it not been for me being a foreigner I would either have needed to leave in shame because of my insult for not drinking with them, or I would have had to conform and drink with the group. I have met some “teetotaller” Koreans in Korea who would accept one drink and drink a little of it, just so that they do not come across as insulting. Some Koreans that do not wish to drink come up with stories like being sick or that they are taking medicine with which they are not allowed to use alcohol. However, even with some people showing the medicine as proof, I've witnessed the extreme pressure they receive to drink at least half a glass of soju. While foreigners can get away with not drinking, they will often experience severe pressure and may find themselves indirectly ostracised for being unsociable.

A drunk Korean passing out in public.
Not that uncommon a sight, actually.
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There are some Korean subcultures that do not drink, whom are part of so-called sectarian faiths such as Seventh Day Adventists, Jehovah's Witnesses, and Mormons. Because these Koreans are part of their own communities they at least have a social life. Koreans who do not belong to such religious persuasions are, as I mentioned already, ostracised and struggle to make friends. Even Koreans from these religious groups have a hard time, particularly in their work place. It is customary for colleagues to go drinking together after work, and refusing to do so, particularly if one's senior or boss suggested the drinking, is considered terribly rude, and even disrespectful. In that sense, not drinking could sometimes cost you your job.

Bottles of soju -- Korea's most famous
alcohol comparable to vodka.
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Had drinking in Korea merely been one or two beers, it would not have been that bad. Unfortunately Koreans take social drinking to the extreme. Drinking often involves drinking games and other group-pressure drinking. Hearing Koreans shout “one-shot”, i.e. gulping down your glass in one go, accompanied with the encouraging cheers, is not unusual. One's ability to “take a drink” is equated with being “strong”. I guess this is not a uniquely Korean thing, but in Korea it really seems to be a continued test and senior citizens going out with their friends do not seem to take it any lighter than when they were youngsters drinking themselves into a stupor. Seeing old Korean men ridiculously drunk is as common as seeing dead-drunk college boys.

Two older Korean friends passed out on the street
together after a night of heavy drinking. Or, at least,
that's my assumption of this picture.
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There is a small movement amongst upper class Koreans to drink wine. Since whine is so expensive, and since it is enjoyed slowly, wine drinkers tend to drink far less. Wine drinking in Korea is in many cases just for pompous show, like wearing a very expensive name brand suit, and going to art exhibits just for the pretence of appreciating art, but at least wine drinking is giving a way out to some Koreans who would like to socialise without getting completely knackered.

Soju advertisements usually involve a
sexy Korean woman, showing lots of skin
and curves, that enjoys to drink and party.
There is undeniably a sexual connection
made with drinking soju.

The thing that disturbs me the most about Korea's terrible drinking culture are the associated ethics that go with it. When Koreans misbehave while drunk, they are often excused. This is often true even when laws are broken. Here's another example of the shady morality of a drunken culture. So I once went out with a mixed group of foreigners and Koreans. One foreign girl got terribly drunk and started to behave awfully bad. She also became a danger to herself; constantly falling about and hitting her head. She refused to lie down and rest. Two Korean guys told me—and I think they are from different parts of Korea so this must be a common sentiment—that if she was a Korean girl they would just knock her out. They actually showed me the points where they would hit her. Being a martial artist I recognised the pressure points (temple; side of the neck; and somewhere else I'd rather not mention) and realised that these are indeed points to knock someone out with, so they are actually talking from experience. Did you get this? In Korea, it is common and acceptable to hit a rowdy drunk Korean woman unconscious. Eventually the foreign girl in our group did go to sleep without being knocked unconscious. The next morning she had no recollection at all of the previous night. Of course, nobody was angry with her for her misbehaviour—she was drunk after all. But the thing that disturbs me is that she could have been taken advantage of, i.e. raped, were she amongst a different group of people, and she would not have been any the wiser the next day. I'm wondering how often this sort of thing actually happens in Korea. In a culture where ridiculous amounts of alcohol consumption is socially acceptable and even socially encouraged, where drunken misbehaviour is excused, and where knocking out difficult drunk women is common (something I reconfirmed with some of my male students), taken advantage of an unconscious woman while you are drunk yourself, doesn't seem far fetched to me at all.

Luckily for this girl, Korea
is relatively safe.
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So why don't I drink alcahol? There are a couple of reasons really. The first reason I do not drink is as a statement. It is for the same reason I do not smoke. My father did. He smoked and it made him stink and I swore that I would not be like him. There was also a patch during which he drank and became aggressive. I remember clearly how my brother and I would hide (and sometimes throw away) his whiskey because of how we hated the way it changed his personality. It took him a while, but he eventually realised the negative impact his drinking had on us, so he stopped excessive drinking. I respect him for caring enough for us to choose us over the bottle. Nonetheless, the negative associations with alcohol was set, so I also swore not to be like my father, who continued to drink socially. Second, many people on my maternal side of the family are alcoholics. In particular my uncles, one of them my godfather whom I always looked up to. I saw how the drink had destroyed both their lives and their families and it disgusted me. It also came as a revelation to me that since I take after my mother's side of the family, I probably have a predisposition towards becoming an alcoholic myself. I know I have an addictive personality, so I'm not taking any chances. Later, when I became a Christian and accepted the scripture that says our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit and that therefore healthy living is part of our act of worship, I decided to live a healthy life style. This is in part the reason why I'm a (flexible) vegetarian, why I avoid frequent consumption of caffeine, why I exercise even though I often do not feel like it. Finally, I honestly do not like the taste of alcohol. I once tried to drink Amarula Cream, thinking that I'd at least enjoy the taste since a like fruity, creamy stuff. I do like cherry liqueur dark chocolates after all. Regardless, I had to boil the Amarula Cream for quite some time to get rid of the alcohol taste. Last year I was in a hotel by myself and there was beer in the bar fridge. Being alone I thought I'd just try it a bit--I'm far from anybody who knows me, nobody would know. I took maybe two sips and can still honestly say that I really dislike the taste. If it is indeed an acquired taste, it is a taste I'd rather not acquire.

I'm not against people temperately consuming alcohol. There are many people who seem able to enjoy it in moderation only. Although I do not, many of my friends enjoy a drink on occasion. I am, however, against drunkenness and am definitely against Korea's excessive drinking culture. I strongly believe that Korea would be much better off without this element in its society. It is complete nonsense that a person cannot have fun without alcohol, that one cannot be sociable without drinking. And if it is the case for some timid people who needs the bravado of the bottle, the severe price Korea and its families are paying because of alcohol is not worth it.

In this post I focussed on a very negative aspect of Korea, sure. There are, however, many other positive things about Korea otherwise I would not have lived here for nearly five years now. Korea is cool.

11.11.11

November 11 (11.11) is Pepero Day in South Korea. A Pepero 빼빼로 is a "cookie [stick] dipped in chocolate", a favourite snack in South Korea and Japan, where it is known as Pocky. Pepero Day is somewhat similar to Valentine's Day, but instead of chocolates, roses or other typical Valentine's Day gifts, the gift of choice is Peperos.

This year, however, November 11th is extra special in Korea as children born will have identity numbers that start with "111111". To ensure that their children have a sestet of ones in their identity numbers many pregnant mothers have gone out of their way to get c-section surgeries scheduled for today. According to Reuters, c-sections scheduled for 11 November 2011 is up by 20% from usual. (I'm obliged to a South African friend for sending me the link to the news article.)

Speaking of South Africa, annually on the weekend closest to 11 November, South Africa celebrates Poppy Day. It is in remembrance of those that died and fought in battle during World War I, World War II and other wars. World War I ended at the eleventh hour on 11 November 1918 when Germany signed the armistice. In South Africa it is known as Poppy Day because poppy flowers are traditionally sold as part of fundraising initiatives by the South African Legion to help veterans of war. The poppy was chosen because it grew on the battlefields of Flanders (Western Front), where many soldiers died. A poem written by Colonel John McCrae (a Canadian medic) brought wider attention to the poppie connection.

In Flanders Fields -- John McCrae

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place;wait and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead, short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields!

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands, we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields!

The red poppie became the symbolic flower of remembrance.

In South Africa Poppy Day remembrance ceremonies are held on the Saturday nearest 11 November and some services are also held on the adjacent Sunday. It is not a national holiday, so I'm not sure how many people actually observe it, but it's function is similar to Remembrance Day or Armistice Day celebrated by countries of the Common Wealth and Veterans Day in the United States which is also celebrated on November 11th. South African's typically use Poppy Day to remember South African soldiers who died in WWI, WWII, the Korean War and Border War, as well as surviving veterans of war. Ceremonies are typically held in Cape Town and Pretoria.

November 11 is also Nigel Tufnel Day kept by the cult following of the 1984 mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap. This day was chosen because of the recurrence of the number 11, which became a significant number in the movie, based on one particularly scene in which the character Nigel Tufnel explains how they can turn the volume of their amplifiers "up to eleven", making them "one louder" that other bands that can only go up to ten. The quote "up to eleven" has become pop-culture idiom, suggesting that something is done better, beyond it's expected limitations. I'm not sure exactly how one celebrates Nigel Tufnel Day; I guess you make sure to do something "up to eleven."

Also from popular culture and linked with 11 November 2011 is the movie that is supposed to have been released today, 11-11-11. While it may have gone on circuit in other parts of the world, I didn't see it showing in Korea (I went to the movies today). Then again, I'm not particularly interested as I avoid horror movies; this film was directed by Darren Lynn Bousman, the director of SAW II, III and IV, none of which I've seen. On the other hand, I do like science-fiction films and this is a sci-fi horror. I'll wait a bit and first see how it rates on RottenTomatoes before I make my decision.

On a more philosophical note, 11 November is the anniversary of the death of the Christian philosopher Søren Aabye Kierkegaard, the father of Existentialism. Existentialist thought was most notably expounded upon by later philosophers like Friedrich Nietzche, Martin Heidegger, and Jean-Paul Sartre, but it was Kierkegaard that first focussed on the human dilemma of freedom of choice and the existential angst this causes. He wrote about it in his book The Concept of Anxiety. One example in which he explains this angst requires us to imagine a man standing on the edge of a very tall building and looking down. The man experience two kinds of fear: "the fear of falling, and fear brought on by the impulse to throw himself off the edge. This second type of fear, or anxiety, arises from the realization that he has absolute freedom to choose whether to jump or not, and this fear is as dizzying as his vertigo" (The Philosophy Book, p. 195). In short, Kierkegaard argued that apart from the freedom to be born, God endowed us with free choice. Because making life-altering decisions always cause much angst in me, I'm quite attracted to the Existentialists. Kierkegaard died at the young age of 42 on 11 November 1855.

11 November 2011 is also a day on which New Agers celebrate "Interconnectedness Day", with heavy focus on the Green Agenda. Previous such Interconnectedness Days were celebrated on 10 October 2010 and 9 September 2009. I guess next year on 12 December 2012 will be the last year Interconnectedness Day will be celebrated in a very very long time.

On a personal note, my first best friend, Matthys du Preez, and I used to celebrate 11 November as our friendship day. I can't remember exactly what the reason was that we chose this day as our friendship day, but we celebrated it as a birthday. Matthys was literally my first friend. I cannot recall any friend before him. Our parents were friends and because we were of the same age we naturally became friends. We also went to the same elementary school (a "plaasskool") together. We grew up on farms in the same farming community and there was only one elementary school where all the children in the community went -- a little school with hardly 300 pupils. We were so close in personality that many people mistook us as twins, to our delight -- I guess the fact that we often dressed alike contributed to it. We often finished each other's sentences and my mother told me that we seemed to communicate telepathically as we would sometimes just look at each other and seem to know what the other was thinking. Unfortunately my first best friend moved away when we were about 11 years old and due to the distance our friendship waned until we completely lost contact. In recent years I've started to increasingly think about my old friend. I was able to look him up and sent him an email with the hopes of meeting with him at the beginning of this year while I was in South Africa, but he didn't respond to my email. I guess he's not as sentimental as I am about those early years. In our late teens, early twenties, we both lost our mothers to illness. I think we could have been a great comfort to each other had we stayed in contact. I sometimes wish I could have been there for him during that time of loss and during other trials he may have experienced as a child. I have fond memories of our friendship and I remember quite distinctly the good and caring friend he was. I am very blessed with some great friends in my life. I have, in part, Matthys to thank for that. Because my first friendship had been such a very close one, that has become my expectation of a real friendship. Matthys' care and loyalty as a young boyhood friend inspired me to become the same type of friend later in my life.

Happy 11 November, for whatever reason you decide to celebrate it.

Lost & Found

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Last night coming back from hanging out with my writing crit-group (we watched Zombieland since it's Halloween), I had to transfer from one subway train to another. Half way to my destination on the second train I realised that I had left my backpack on the previous train. A sense of dread got hold of me. In my backpack I had my (expensive) camera, a credit card, my ID-card that is linked with my Korean visa, nearly $300 in cash, and exam papers of my students.

I began to pray fervently. Utmost in my thoughts were the two cards and the student exam papers. The camera can be replaced, but the credit card can easily be exploited long before I can cancel it and I need my ID-card to cancel it. Also, the exam papers are irreplaceable and a dreadful mistake like losing my student's exam papers could seriously affect my job.

It was already very late so I wasn't sure what to do, but I eventually decided to just turn around and go back to the station where the previous train would finally stop. I got there just before midnight, likely close to closing time. After some searching I found the Lost & Found Office. My backpack was there with nothing missing.

While sending up prayers of praise I thought about how different Korea is from South Africa. There are many bad things I can say about Korea, but Koreans are far less likely to steal than the average South African. I've lost a number or things before, and got them back four out of five times, because of the honesty of the average Korean.

My negligence didn't come cheap, however. Because it was so late I missed the last train home so I had to find a motel to sleep over at. It cost me nearly $50. Had I known the area I probably could have found a jjimjilbang (sauna) to sleep at for far cheaper, but unfortunately it was way after midnight and I had to get to bed.

Ancient Korean Colours and Patterns

Holding a woman . . . uhm . . . I mean a bottle

"Black Bean Tera Tea"
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So yesterday I went to the movies to see this movie (오직그대만), and bought myself the tea advertised above. In Korea such cold unsweetened tea-drinks are readily available. In any case, while sitting in the cinema with my tea bottle in hand I suddenly became aware of the feeling of holding a shapely slim woman. That the tactile-sensory message of the bottle could communicate this with such force took me somewhat by surprise as I usually think of marketing in visual rather than kinetic terms. The tea is marketed for (Korean) women wanting to loose weight (it is high in fibre and low in kilojoules). In Korea it seems that there is a whole range of beverages marketed for women, using not only visual cues of shapely ladies, but also tactile cues in the form of shapely bottles. This particular bottle literally feels like a slim shapely woman. Now I don't know if a heterosexual woman holding this bottle in hand will get the same "feeling" as I did. In any case, for more on the topic of bottle shapes in Korean marketing you can read more at  The Grand Narrative.

Modern Hanboks @ 2011 Gangnam Fashion Festival

I saw this beautiful collection of modern female hanboks (traditional Korean dress) at the 2011 Gangnam Fashion Festival on Monday.

Shaking Hands

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I don't like shaking hands. Hands are tools and tools get dirty and exchanging tools is the same as exchanging germs. I am all too aware of where I put my tools, the places I scratch, the things I touch. For this reason I spare you the exchange of microbial spores and other germs -- please spare me from your filth too.

I really don't know why the ritual of shaking hands is still such a common practise. Personally, I'd rather hug somebody than shake hands with them. During a hug, there are layers of cloth separating actual skin-to-skin contact. Truthfully, it is not really the contact with another person's body that bothers me. It is touching someone else's hands. As I said, hands are dirty. It is our major manipulative tool. Even a cheek to cheek hug or a kiss on the cheek is more hygienic than a hand shake.

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Sometimes I clench my teeth and just shake hands. Overly eager and super friendly people thrust out their hands at you for a good ol' shake, so in order not to offend, I oblige. Not accepting the offered hand could signal an insult. But I cringe all the way to the washing room and cannot wash my hands soon enough.

In Korea there are many an opportunity to share hand germs. In subway stations, escalators, buses and the like, are hand-bars to hold on to. I refrain from touching these at all cost. (My balance has improved tremendously!) Elevator buttons I often press with my wrist or the back of my knuckles. Doorhandles I open from behind my jacket, or with my knees. I push the handle to flush public toilets with my feet or with toilet paper wrapped around my hand.

Whenever I enter my home, practically the first thing I do is wash my hands.

A few months ago I gave a public speech on "Two 'Profitable' Things for a Christian from Romantic Poetry." For most the public speaking would be their worst fear. For me it was the idea of shaking hands with all the people afterwards. Even now I cringe at the thought.

One thing I appreciate about Korea is the bow. Bowing is not always a substitute for handshaking, but one can often get away with a bow instead of shaking hands. When I was in China recently, I was distraught that they don't bow.

To my friends, rather give me a personal hug, than shaking my hand. Or if the hug is too intimate for you, how about the fist-bump. With the fist-bump there is little exchange of germs and it looks cool to boot. Or let's bow. A friendly broad smile would equally suffice.

Aliens

If you could send a message to aliens (of the extra-terrestrial kind), what would you say to them? I like the letter by Hank of the Vlogbrothers to aliens. He does a really good summary of the human species.

 

If you are living in a foreign country, like myself, then the term "alien" is applied to you. My identification card in Korea states "Alien Registration Card".

So recently a fellow alien was videotaped while he was shouting in a bus and beating up an old Korean man. The video has gone viral in Korean online video sites like Daum TV-pot and has also made its way onto YouTube. The man apparently misunderstood the Korean guy who was saying something along the lines of 내가 여기 앉아, meaning "you can sit here." 내가, which means "you" is pronounced "nega" which sounds a little like "nigga", i.e. "nigger." So the African-American guy apparently thought the old Korean man was calling him a nigger and went bonkers. This is an apparent case of cultural miscommunication.

But not so fast. The African-American dude shouts back at the old man in Korean 개새끼야, which is the equivalent to "fuck you!" So this guy took the time to learn very offensive Korean swear words, doing it with perfect pronunciation, but he cannot understand something simple like 내가 여기 앉아?! Let's assume that this is true, that he doesn't know what 내가 means, but knows what 개새끼야 means, what does that tell us about his character? For him it was more of a priority to learn to cuss in Korean that to learn the simple pronoun "you"?

Don't tell me its because black people experience racial discrimination in Korea and so that excuses his behaviour. Just two days ago I again experienced racial discrimination myself on the subway. I went to take a seat next to someone in the train and immediately this Korean person got up and went to sit in another seat. I've experienced this enough times to see it for what it is -- racism. Yes, some Koreans are racist and not only towards black people. Still, even though I felt offended by the woman's behaviour I didn't shout 개새끼야 at her. Why? Not because I didn't feel offended -- I do -- but because that is not the kind of person I am. Let's, for the sake of the argument, assume that the Korean old man did call this African-American guy nigger. Does that really warrant that kind of rage and violence? Seriously, this guy needs some Jesus-Love to heal his heart, for he must have experienced the worst kind of racism, oppression, hatred and torture for that word to trigger such a reaction.

 

In one easy swoop this "tough guy" has reinforced the stereotypes of foreigners in Korea being unmannered, disrespectful and uncivilised. His actions has strengthened the stereotype against black people as violent and barbaric, and he has made my life and the lives of all other foreigner teachers in Korea much more difficult. I'm ashamed on behalf of all foreign residence in Korea. I feel serious pity towards all black foreigners that this guy is representing in the eyes of Koreans. Not to mention another stereotype, that of Americans as arrogant and bombastic also strengthened by this loud and dirty-mouthed individual.

Onto another alien: Lady Gaga. She came out with a rather nice country music-influenced song, "Yoü And I". Did you see the music video? Disturbing and sexy in a mermaid-fetish / Frankenstein-fetish / necrophilia kind of way. Apart from a secret mermaid fantasy, not really my kind of thing. I like, however, the cover by Korean-American David Choi and Lisa Lavie. Not two voices that I would have imagined to go well together, but they pull it off pretty well.

 

The most beautiful part of the song is that line: "muscle cars drove a truck through my heart."

An all time favourite "alien song" is Sting's "Englishman in New York". "I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien, I'm an Englishman in New York." I sometimes choose this song when I'm singing in a noraebang (karaoke).

 

A random post on random thoughts about random aliens would probably be incomplete without a list of some of the aliens I find most attractive: Leeloo from Fifth Element; Neytiri from Avatar; Sil from Species; Seven-of-Nine / Borg from Star Trek; T-X from Terminator 3; Leela from Futurama; Alien from Alien; and Captain Jack Harkness from Doctor Who / Torchwood.