Wednesday, May 21, 2008

The Magic Wand: Five Things I'd Change about Korea

In case you don't think an expat should write an essay like "Five Things I'd Change About Korea". . . read the last half of this comment.

Soundtrack: hit play and start reading. Edwyn Collins

Never Met A Girl Like You Before

So. . . topic #1 on the sidebar poll: "The Top Five Things I Would Change About Korea [if I had a magic wand that works]"

Now, to be fair, because I get really tired of the droning whiners who forget to shine a flashlight on the good stuff, I'm gonna start this post off with a qualifier and a counterbalance.

Picture: me in my "I Love Korea" t-shirt.
Qualifier: I'm painting with a broad brush here (duh). What I say here doesn't apply completely to all Koreans, or all aspects of Korea; this is just what I've seen, and I'm just a dude, with no real qualifications except that you're reading this, and this is the kind of stuff I think about. Also, a lot of the things I highlight here ARE improving, have been for a while, and most are miles better now than they were ten years ago, or even since I first came here in 2003, but change always happens too quickly for the power center, and too slowly for the margins. Before you fill my box up with angry comments, please carefully note that I use words like "sometimes, may, might, often, too often, can be, some, many, almost" not words like "always, are, all, never, can't, won't."

Counterbalance: so I'm not all negative, here are five things I would NEVER change about Korean culture, magic wand or none.

1. When Korea gets behind a cause, the energy and passion Koreans apply to it is phenomenal and pretty inspiring. The way the country banded together during the '60s 70s and 1980s, and said, "we gotta muckle in and build this country," pretty much from scratch, is nothing short of miraculous. You can see that same passion and "all-on-board" unity in the 2002 World cup. True, some people have used this same unity of purpose for less-than-wonderful purposes (demagoguery and the 2002 anti-American riots, or the anti-US Beef scaremongering going on right now, for example), and as Korea's fractious, polarized political scene and protest culture shows, it can be pretty hard to get everyone on the bandwagon... BUT, that kind of "band together and get shit done" energy and enthusiasm gives the Korean people a mind-boggling potential for accomplishment, if they can get themselves all pointed in the same direction. . . and puts a really heavy burden of responsibility on the leaders and influence-brokers of this country, to use that passion and potential for good and not for evil. (And I'm dead serious about that.)

(from World Cup 2002 - and these are mostly just the fans in Vancouver, according to the clip info)


2. Koreans, almost to a person, put forth a great deal of effort and energy to maintain old connections and friendships. Sure, this is easier in a country as geographically small and centralized as Korea -- most people and their elementary school classmates either: 1. still either live in their hometown, or 2. have all migrated to the nearest urban center, or Seoul. While many Canadians might want to have a beer with their old classmates, flying from Vancouver to Montreal for a night of drinking is a bigger endeavour than taking a train from Seoul to Ulsan once a year. Be that as it may, it's pretty darn cool, that Koreans ARE very intentional about staying in touch with high school, elementary school, university, grad school, first job, second job, guitar lessons, etc., friends, in a deeper way than having a long facebook friends list and sending out Christmas cards once a year.

Interestingly, this reunion imperative is almost always group-oriented -- as a Canadian, I'd invite my friend from my first job, my university friend, my high school friend, and my "Shanghai Winter Vacation 2005 Trip" friend all to the same birthday party, introduce them, and hope they get along, while most Koreans generally keep those separate groups, well, separate, but the fact remains: that kind of intentionality, that wish to keep old ties alive, is admirable.

3. Along that same vein, Korean eating culture is wonderfully communal. In a Western restaurant (right), we each order our food, and it comes out on separate dishes, and this is MY food and that is YOUR food and don't you touch MY food unless I offer it to you.


In a Korean restaurant, they throw a big pot, or a grill, in the middle of the table, and everybody digs into the same dishes. This really increases the communal experience of eating. It's also pretty rare to see someone eat lunch at his desk here, or to eat a muffin while walking down the street: eating is a time to sit down (preferably with someone) and enjoy the food. (By the way: chopsticks are great -- way better than forks for most foods, and especially salad.)

(Picture: traditional Korean funeral -- most don't follow that pattern anymore. From the USC archives.)

4. It's taken as an absolute given that you'll get the day off work to go to your grandmother's funeral. Some of your coworkers might even go along with you. When my grandmother died a little while ago, a lot of my Korean students were even a little taken aback that I DIDN'T go to Canada to attend her funeral: when I explained the time and cost it would involve to do so, they decided Canadians weren't simply cold-hearted and callous, but it took some talking for a few of them. Weddings, births, and "baby's first 100 days" are other family events Koreans make it a [much] high[er] priority [than most N. Americans] to attend.

5. More Korean old people get out of the house and have fun;
they don't just linger around the house, or gate themselves away in little retirement communities, as if being old were some kind of shame; there are parks and areas that have basically been taken over by the fogeys (I live near one), and say what you want about the way they behave, it's nice that they're putting themselves out there, meeting people, and enjoying their lives. I certainly hope that when I'm old, I still dance, sing, join bus tours to the countryside, and drink (or at least hang out a lot and gab) with friends, the way Korean old people do. (Pictures from Jongmyo Park: worth a visit on a Saturday afternoon sometime.)

There you go, bud. Don't lump me in with the haters, thanks.

Soundtrack part two: just hit play. "The Times, They Are A'Changing"

Bob Dylan

The five changes, then, in no particular order.
If I had a magic wand, I would:

1. Internalize a deep understanding of the law of diminishing returns.

The law of diminishing returns (originally from economics) states that as one increases effort, eventually results from that increased effort levels off, and then starts to decline. (more explanation here) For example, a handful of seeds tossed on a square meter of tilled earth creates a certain number of plants. A second handful in the same space, might create double the number of plants, but there comes a point where throwing more seeds on the plot won't produce more plants, because the soil's fertility is maxed out. The improvement in results from increased input follows a curve like this:It works with people, too: the longer I do one thing continuously, without breaks, the less it benefits me to continue doing so, in an arc similar to the one on this chart.

For example, studying Korean for one hour on Monday, one on Wednesday, and one on Friday, (three hours total) will benefit me more than studying for five hours continuously on Saturday. It's the same for exercise, for sleep, for writing, for reading, and pretty much everything humans do. We need breaks, we need balance; it's how we're wired. Here in Korea, many people take pride in how long they can study without a break, despite the fact that, after about two hours of studying, unless you have a genius study strategy, each new piece of information you acquire crowds out something else. It's same with work: Koreans work one of the longest work-weeks in the world, but if you divide Korea's impressive GNP by the number of person-hours worked, you discover that productivity-per-person-hour is very low (while France, with their 35 hour work week, is a world leader in worker productivity per person-hour).

Articles and statistics on this topic here, here, here, and here. Photo of exhausted students from the metropolitician, who wrote a good essay about overworked students in Korea.

Koreans often focus on quantity over quality, missing the point that by the time they show up for work on Thursday morning, Minho, who goes home at 6pm, plays with his kids, works out, has a hobby, chats with his wife, and goes to bed on time, will be more mentally refreshed, ready to work, and ultimately more productive, than Chulsoo, who works until 10:30, commutes home, falls into bed, and arrives at work the next day still exhausted from yesterday's exertion, and hating his boss, looking forward to the two hour nap he's going to take after lunch: not ready to put in another full, productive day, and heading for an early grave.

Not a lot is actually accomplished during the ten extra working hours that make the difference between working 50 hours a week and 60 hours, because after fifty hours of work in a week, most people are too exhausted to do much more than play solitaire at the office desk and take long smoke breaks. Despite this, many Koreans seem to show their "I stayed until XX" finishing times around like masochistic badges of honour.

Meanwhile, in (un?)related news, Korea has one of the highest suicide rates in the world.

Understanding the law of diminishing returns would revolutionize work and study efficiency, and create a culture of people who knew when to draw the line, do something else, and enjoy their lives more. (Along with the longest workweek, Koreans spend more on private education academies and less on leisure activities per capita than most other OECD countries.)

The extra six hours of study time that gets your kid's test score from 93% to 95%, also causes him to hate school and studying: he/she loses in the end. All the mentally exhausted workers, too, end up spending their time at work trying to appear busy, while being too mentally exhausted to actually focus on their tasks (which then requires them to stay late and finish their assignments, prolonging the cycle) -- it's kinda self-defeating.

More is not the same as better.

2. Create a status-neutral verb ending, and a status-neutral system of titles and modes for addressing others, to replace, or at least reduce the influence of Korean's over-developed honorific system.

Girlfriendoseyo had some difficulty with this one when I talked to her about it, so I have to choose my words carefully here.

See, the Korean language has a highly developed grammar of honorifics -- one of the world's most confusing/complex. Words and verb conjugations establish a hierarchy of relationships. If I'm older than you, you address me by a different title than if I'm younger than you; you conjugate your verb differently, etc.. If my uncle is my father's older brother, I call him a different title than if he's my father's YOUNGER brother, and even if he's older than me, I hold hierarchical sway over the husband of my younger sister, simply because SHE's the younger one, and he has to address me in more respectful terms than I must for him. It blew one class' mind that there's just one word for "Uncle" in English, and one word for "Aunt," and then we use first names (SO informal!) to tell one uncle from the other, and who's older than whom doesn't matter a single whit to we Anglos. I often use the example that, if I'm talking to a six-year-old, I say "sit, please," and if I'm talking to the Queen of England, I also say, "sit, please."

The honorific system deeply engrains a pattern of measuring each person Koreans meet against themselves, to establish who is higher and who is lower on the pecking order. This in turn leads to a culture of constant vying for status, of endless competition that popped up even in my six-year-old kindergarten classes (moms phoning in, "So, is Ella at the top of the class, or nearer to the bottom?")

Now don't get me wrong here: there's nothing wrong with respecting your elders, yah? And Korean culture has that respect for elders deeply enough programmed that changing some linguistic forms wouldn't erase all respectful relationships; however, this hierarchical system is often abused, particularly by the elders, or the more educated, who take their special status as license to treat those younger or otherwise lower than them like lapdogs (and the younger side is not allowed to complain about it, because s/he's older).

You can regularly see drunken old men disrespecting police officers in ways that would probably have them tasered in Canada, and certainly holed away in the drunk tank for the night, because "He's old. He's drunk. He probably lived a hard life," which was even used to plead for leniency for the arsonist who burned down Korea's national treasure #1. Again, the Metropolitician, on older male entitlement in Korea. (Older males are the ones who benefit the most from Confucian hierarchies.)

Malaysian is another language with a complex honorific system, but (according to the Lonely Planet Malay Phrasebook), they have imported the English pronouns "I" and "You" into conversational usage, because "I" and "you" are status neutral, which means that you can use them, and carry a conversation on an equal footing, rather than being required to get out the rulers and measure who's higher on the totem pole. Creating a single, status-neutral-but-still-respectful verb ending that can be universally used, a status-neutral-but-still-respectful pronoun/title system for addressing family members, in-laws, and colleagues, superiors and juniors, would do a lot to make sure respect goes both up AND down the status ladder, that respect for others is internalized instead of only formalized!

3. Reduce the need to defend and promote, and instead ingrain the ability to laugh at oneself, one's culture, and one's country.

The ability to take things in stride, or blow them off, instead of making them into pride issues and fighting Pyrrhic battles over unimportant crap, would help a lot of things. The ability to laugh at situations, to look below the surface rather than getting defensive with knee-jerk, unthinking nationalism, would help a lot of stuff. That is, to shift pride (personal and national) into positive instead of negative directions.

This is one of the things I like best about Canada. Canadians are deeply proud of being Canadian, and yeah, if you make some sort of ignint fifty-first state/funny money crack, we'll get annoyed, but along with that, we laughed harder than anyone else at South Park's anthem, "Blame Canada," we didn't threaten to burn down Trey Parker and Matt Stone's house for writing it. Here in Korea, too many nationalists can't take a joke and too many are ready to stir things up anytime, for example, during medal ceremonies. Too many Korean tourists have been bringing up politics, even on vacation, or making political/policy issues personal (I can't remember whether I read online, or heard from a friend, of a Korean who wanted to marry his Japanese girlfriend, and his parents wouldn't approve the marriage until her parents had personally apologized to them for Japan's wartime/colonial atrocities to Korea, as if they were the ones responsible for it -- any reader got a reference for this?)

Another thing most educated Canadians can do is listen reasonably to a criticism of Canada, and take it seriously, even when the critic is not Canadian, if said critic is well-informed, and presents issues reasonably, rather than emotionally. Here in Korea, if I bring a subject into my conversation classes that seems too critical of Korea, students from every end of the ideological spectrum may basically lock elbows and defend Korea to the hilt, and might even take it personally: "Why do you hate Korea?" "Why are you so critical" "It bothers me when you're so critical" "If you don't like it, you can go home" -- to the extent that I once had one of my feminist students defending the patriarchal business culture in Korea, simply because she felt like I was being too critical. All this came from students who know I've been here a long time (getting close to five years now), made a careful and extensive study of the country and culture, and that I love Korea, probably as much as they do! If you don't believe me about the hypersensitivity, check out this essay, and then read the comment board to see how visceral and unthinking some Koreans' reaction to criticism can be. Issues that should be political become emotional quickly here. Koreans themselves describe their national character as a thin, tin pot: quick to heat up, quick to cool down.

Yeah. I'd change that. Add a little more self-reflection and rationality and emotional temperance into the nationalism (at least enough to recognize that getting upset over Dokdo at the drop of a hat plays RIGHT into the hands of the nationalist Japanese politicians who provoke them). I'd give Koreans the ability to laugh at their country when it's being silly (for example, their National Assembly, which often resembles a rugby scrum more than a convention of lawmakers). In the same vein, I'd also give Koreans the ability to laugh at themselves personally, (without the help of alcohol). Girlfriendoseyo tells me that after childhood, so many of the Koreans she knows seem to forget how to smile, to laugh, to take things lightly (until they drink) -- the aforementioned workaholic/studyholic tendency might be a factor in this kind of joylessness, but the fact remains (especially with men) that many of the adult men I know laugh rarely, if at all, unless they've been drinking. Levity, dear readers. Levity is good.

Soundtrack part III: Sam Cooke

A Change is Gonna Come

4. Eliminate the anxiety over strangers' and near-strangers' opinions that leads to such a focus on cosmetic and outward benchmarks and measurements (looks, possessions, credentials), and the fear of going against the grain.

Sometimes it seems like parents here would rather have their kid be a miserable banker than a happy plumber, for the sake of bragging rights, (I suggested that to a group of students, and rather than answer, "That's not true," they answered, "Well, the kid's job reflects on the parents, you know.") Many Korean schools, given two applications for an English teaching position, would give a Harvard Chemistry B.Sc. graduate and a Masters in TEFL from Whatever University of Southern Wheresthat approximately equal consideration, because of the Harvard brand. It goes the same with the obssession over brand name possessions -- Lexus, Mercedes, BMW, Louis Vuitton handbags, and even physical appearance (Korea has one of the highest rates of plastic surgery in the world) -- all these benchmarks are SO external, they create an outward show that's impressive, but only go skin deep -- REACHING the benchmark is so important in Korea, but after busting a nut to achieve the Civil Servant position (one of the higher ranking status-jobs in Korea, because of unheard of job security and a glamorously difficult entrance exam), or University Professorship, or just getting entrance to a top university, many civil servants, university professors and students end up getting complacent -- exhausted from working so hard to ATTAIN that status, they decide to coast on credentials once IN those positions, so that there are many delinquent civil workers, deadbeat university professors, and sloppy students in the top schools, who expect a free pass now that they made it into the elite club. If I were the King of Korea, I'd make a law that five years after graduating university, you're no longer allowed to mention the name of your school, and instead of giving your university's name, you have to supply contact numbers for your former employers. That'd shake things up a bit.

James Turnbull, who researches his points about Korean culture better than I do, has more readers, and posts pictures of hotter female popstars, (basically, he owns me in every way), wrote two excellent essays on form over substance in Korea.

Test scores is another benchmark on which Koreans rely too much: if something can't be converted to a number which can then be measured against other people's numbers and ranked, it just holds less water here (please remember, I'm painting with a very broad brush here) -- I saw this picture (right) for TOEIC -Test Of English for International Communication (one of the more popular, and possibly the most useless, evaluation of one's English ability); the slogan is "Only What's On The Test" -- we don't care about your actual communicative ability; we'll teach you how to ace the test. None of that time-wasting functionality junk! And what happens when an international client calls the office, and they hand the phone to me, because I got hired for my high English score, but I only studied what's on the test, and never developed the actual ability to use English? Who cares? I already got the job, didn't I?

When Ex-girlfriendoseyo wanted to come to Canada (an English speaking country, don't you know) and visit my dying mother, her parents said, "You can't go to Canada. You need to use that time to study for your English test!" It sounds pretty ass-backwards, right, that traveling to an English speaking country and speaking English all day, every day, for half a month would be BAD for her, right? But, because of the way Korea depends on test scores, they were right to keep her from coming (as far as the test score was concerned). If Bob Doede, one of the coolest profs I had during university, told a Korean what he once said in class: "I was so busy learning that I almost failed out of grad school" -- for most Koreans, that phrase would simply not compute.

Another area where the deeply internalized anxiety over other people's opinions comes into play is in public behaviour. Even though the chances are basically nil that the people who <--glower at me as I walk down the street singing songs from "West Side Story" with Matt will ever see me again, I have to behave around Girlfriendoseyo. Acting goofy in pubic sometimes is really liberating, but total strangers' big, hairy eyeballs --> are a very strong deterrent here. If that dude on the bus is going to judge me for laughing out loud at the book I'm reading, that should be HIS problem, not MINE. Me, I find my validation in the fact my friends, who know me well, respect the hell out of me, so I really don't give a flying rat's furblinker if geezer Creak on the bus gives me a dirty look because my jeans are torn, or because I didn't shave this morning, or because I don't fit the Greek Ideal for physical beauty.Take that, James Turnbull! That's as beautiful as your Lee Hyori pictures!

To sum up: too many Koreans feel too strongly as if they're doing something wrong by doing what makes them happy, because there's this perception that they must fall in line and obtain the correct signifiers: "everybody else" would rather young Jin-hee were a miserable stay-at-home mom in a joyless marriage with a workaholic high-level civil servant or Samsung office drone (who went to Seoul National University and drives a Lexus), living in a brand name apartment complex in a brand-name neighbourhood, because that fills out the checklist of familiar reference points, of outward signifiers of success, than have her be an insanely happy private art tutor living in a funky apartment in a quirky old neighbourhood with winding streets, married to an insanely happy, tender and gentle massage therapist (working with his hands? Gasp!) who loves his job, cooks for her regularly, comes home from work at a reasonable time each day, plays with the kids, and fills the house with laughter from the moment the kids come home from school to bedtime. Where are the boxes to check for that? Where are the signifiers of success in wearing cool, comfy second-hand clothes with funky patches? That's unacceptable! How can Jin-hee's mom brag about her to the rest of the sewing circle when she has to explain and justify each one of Jin-hee's choices?

Yeah. I'd change that.
Korea's not the only place one finds this phenomenon, not by a long shot - but I'd change all those other places, too, if I could.


5. Replace the Y chromosome's of 50% of Korea's elites and power-brokers with X chromosomes (including/especially the president), and let everything sort itself out from there (it IS a MAGIC wand, after all).

Reducing the number of (non-magic) wands in elite positions would help a lot of other changes along -- if 50% of the power and influence in Korea were suddenly in the hands of women, all the OTHER gender issues would sort themselves out within a (tumultuous) generation or two. I've discussed sexism enough on the blog in other places that I don't really feel like going into it here, but the fact is, despite having the 13th largest GNP, and ranking in the mid-twenties on the Human Development Index, Korea's Gender Empowerment Measure has been embarrassingly low, and that kind of a disparity between economic and social development should be cause for some serious cultural self-reflection.

5. Separate drinking culture from business culture.

All-too-common situation (much more common 20 or 25 years ago: some of this stuff is getting cleaned up, especially since the Asian Financial Crisis in 1997, but still too common):

1. Chul-soo is tired from working a ten hour day.

2. On the way out the door, Chul-soo's boss says, "Chul-soo! Come join us for an office dinner."

3. Chul-soo cannot say no to his boss without losing face (hierarchical Confucian culture and all), so he comes along. The women in the office are not invited, or leave early: drinking together is often/usually a men-only activity.

4. Boss says, "Chul-soo! Join us for some soju shots!"

5. Again, Chul-soo can't say no to his boss: that would make him the stick in the mud, and bending one's own individual wishes to suit the group atmosphere is very important to Koreans. Chul-soo complies.

6. Chul-soo gets drunk, gets home late, along with everyone in his office (except the women, who left early, or respectfully declined, and Ho-Jun - more about him later). His wife is pissed off.

6.5 (25 years ago, definitely; not as much now, but still too often) Boss leads them to the singing room, switches from soju to whiskey, and then says, "Hey guys! Let's go to a hostess bar/room salon on the company expense account, and ogle girls/have our drinks poured by girls in bikinis/buy some whores. Chul-soo is married, but he still can't say no to his boss (20 years ago, definitely not; now, probably not), so he goes along.

7. Next morning, Chul-soo arrives at the office hung-over and sleepy, along with all the men in the office. They punch each other's arms and make references to last nights adventures, sharing a feeling of camaraderie from which the women are excluded. They ask the women (and Ho-Jun, the office loner, who doesn't come drinking because he says it's important to him to spend time with his wife and small children) to pick up the slack while they take it easy and nurse their hangovers all morning, which entails a two-hour lunch break, a nap at the desk from 10-11:30 am, and maybe a little "hair of the dog" at lunch. Nobody gets much work done except the women, who would grind their teeth about it, but damaging their smiles might injure their job prospects. Ho-jun is criticized for not trying to fit in and be a "team player" because he doesn't come out drinking with the rest of the boys, rather than praised for doing what's necessary to be fresh and ready to work each morning.

8. When it comes time for promotions, the boss promotes his most stalwart drinking buddies, because he feels most comfortable around them, rather than the most efficient or diligent workers. The women are passed over, because women aren't really welcome at the drinking nights, so boss never feels as familiar with them as with the men who stay out late with him. The ones who go home early so that they'll be ready to work the next day are not rewarded, while the ones who drink with the boss and spend entire work-days hung over ARE rewarded with promotions. Thus, office alcoholism is not just forgiven, but it's institutionalized.

Now granted, the above is a caricature that may or may not be comically exaggarated, but I know for a fact that when my male students come into my morning classes hung over, it's never with even the tiniest hint of shame, more often with a bit of a sheepish but self-satisfied, "Look what I did!" grin that a kid might have when he throws a stone at a duck out in the pond, and actually hits it.

Situation 2:
Ahmed, a high-roller from Jordan, and a devout Muslim, wants to do business in East Asia. "Let's have dinner together" sales manager Min-ho says, and offers Ahmed barbeque pork (not Hallal) soju (alcohol: off limits for a good Muslim) and a woman (uhh. . . yeah). Ahmed decides to take his business to Hong Kong, Singapore, or Taiwan, instead.

The way drinking culture and business culture mix together in Korea generates sexism, leads to inefficiency (office-sanctioned next-day hangovers, which are grinned and shrugged off, rather than reprimanded), and promotion of the wrong workers. I'd separate drinking and work culture.

Nothing against Korea's drinking culture when separate from work culture, mind you. If you like drinking culture, Korea's is great -- it's fun, gregarious, Korean men are never friendlier than when you're trading shots of soju -- but you know, in Canada, you drink with your friends, not your coworkers, and when you come to work, you're expected to be ready to work. (See again the statistic on productivity per person-hour of work in Korea.)

Other contenders for the list:
--make it so that you're ALWAYS responsible for what you do, even/especially when you're drunk.)
72% of Korean men drink every day
.

--explain to Protestants and Catholics that they are two branches of a single religion, not separate religions entirely (So tired of hearing people say, "I'm not a Christian. I'm Catholic", so so tired of the mutual us-vs.-them animousity that comes of that misconception.)

--Engrain on the minds of all Korean media members that, with the foreigners living in Korea now, who can speak Korean, and their connections with international communication and press outlets, there are no more in-house issues for Korea: the world is watching. Factory owner mistreats Indonesian workers? People in Indonesia get mad. There is no such thing as a dirty secret any more. Only dirty laundry, all out for display.

--Create watchdog organizations with wide press coverage and legal clout, but without connections to Korea's left-wing political party (which is one of the most unappealing groups of disingenuous demagogues and xenophobes I've ever seen) to keep an eye on 1. corporate corruption, 2. agenda-driven and other kinds of unethical journalism, 3. political indoctrination in elementary and high-school classes (especially as taught in lieu of critical thinking skills). Have one such organization award yearly prizes for integrity in journalism, a Korean version of the Pulitzer Prize.

--erase the culture of conspicuous consumption and waste, especially in Seoul, and reintroduce actual material modesty.


So there you go. I'll put my broad brush away now, and remind you all that yes, I'm well aware that most of these situations are much better than they were a decade or two ago. Both internationally and locally owned companies are beginning to enforce "go home and see your family" quit times: some of my students' employers keep "family night" policies, where workers are not allowed to stay late on Wednesday night. A single-mother office worker won a lawsuit against her boss recently, because he ostracized her for refusing to come drinking "with the team". Koreans recognize that the test-based, studyholic, brand-name school system is flawed (it's dragged Korean universities down to 53rd of 55 countries, "in the extent to which university education meets social and economic needs"), and have seen the social decay caused by these entitled bums who coast on their credentials rather than trying to improve their performance, and bars are being raised even in places that used to be rife with complacency, like academia ([can't find a link, but] KAIST is axing some of its deadbeat professors, which will spur other universities to trim their dead weight, too) and government administration (Seoul city hall is also going after corrupt and/or lazy officials). Women ARE entering the workforce in record numbers, and passing the bar exam, and the civil service exams at a higher clip than ever before, which will inevitably, by sheer force of numbers, rearrange the antiquated dynamics, so things are getting better!

My magic wand would just be speeding things along in the direction they're already going, in a lot of cases, but there you go, dear readers. My personal opinions, after nearly five years of watching. Hope you enjoyed my thoughts.

That's it. I'm spent.

Thanks, Daily Transit, Joanie, Chiamatt, Popular Gusts and Zenkimchi, for the link love.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Warning to Adult English Teachers in Korea: Do Not Talk About Dokdo in Class

Unless your views are exactly in line with Koreans. If you don't agree, and decide to argue about it, well, even if you win, you lose, because your students will hate you. A guy named Gerry Bevers even lost his job for saying the wrong thing about Dokdo. (Also known as Takashima, or the Liancourt Rocks.)

Yeah. It's in the news again.
Seoul Slams Tokyo over Dokdo

A story:

During the World Cup, 2006, I was talking about the Korea/Japan rivalry with a mixed crowd of Korean and Western friends. I jokingly said, "Korea and Japan should play a soccer game, and the winner gets Dokdo!" My Western friends all laughed.

My Korean coworker looked at me with a sour, hairy eyeball, and emphatically answered: "But Dokdo is ours." Wasn't a single bit funny to her. In fact, it pissed her right off.

Koreans take this pretty seriously: if you're new in Korea, you will underestimate how seriously. Be warned. Eggshells, my Korean-adult-teaching friends. Eggshells.

From the Korea Herald's March 20th editorial:
"Recognition of the status quo of Dokdo should be the starting point of any new "partnership" between Korea and Japan."
Translation: "We're willing to let Dokdo become the pyre on which we immolate diplomatic relations with Japan. It's that important to us." (To English teachers: that means they're also willing to let it be the sticking point on which they decide to hate you. It's that incendiary an issue. Korea needs Japan more than they need you, dear conversation teacher friend, and they're ready to make a fuss there, too.)

Personally, I have only two things to say about Dokdo:

1. As with the recent American Beef fiasco, the question to ask is, "Who benefits if people behave as predicted?" -- with American beef, it was pretty easy to spot the Korean beef lobby and the left-wing anti-FTA hand in the media glove, and they aren't even hiding that any more. Roh Moo-hyun's old buddies are having a field day taking shots at Lee Myung-bak.

So. . .

When Korea gets upset about Dokdo, who benefits?

Nationalist Japanese politicians, who use video footage and reports of anti-Japanese demonstrations in Korea as evidence that "The whole world hates us. . . you need strong, nationalist leaders, like me, to protect Japan's interests!" That's who benefits. Nobody else wins.

That Korea responds so predictably, and emphatically, to the slightest provocation on this topic, means that Dokdo is now their go-to issue when they need to scare up some support. Think about it.

The fact Koreans look foolish internationally (and they do) when reports like this get on the news is just a bonus for them. This image was published on BBC's webpage in 2005, with the caption, "Protesters burn posters of Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi during a rally against Japan's sovereignty claims over South Korea's Dokdo isles, in Seoul": the world is watching.Koreans are being manipulated, and the tin pot is so hot they don't notice that they're being played for fools by some cagey Japanese politicians.


2. I don't know enough about this situation to make any stance (and fear to do so, given Gary Bevers' experience), so instead, I'll say this:

Given Comfort Women (here and here), Goguryeo (here, here and here) and Dokdo/Takashima/Liancourt Rocks (here and here), the Nanjing Massacre (here and here), among other less-publicized things, it has become clear to me that China, Korea, and Japan all have startlingly different versions of the history of East-Asia. These conflicting histories are leading to controversies, and becoming politicized, rallying-points for unhealthy, ugly nationalism in each country (more pictures of protests). In the interest of finding a common ground and moving into the future, and to avoid further politically motivated distortions of history; in the hope of healthier intra-Asian relations, that are unhampered by historical grievances and disagreements, it is obvious that . . .

East Asia needs to form an international team of historians and scholars (no politicians), and write an apolitical history of East Asia. That's right. Get together a mixed group of Asia historians from China, Japan, Korea, as well as other countries, let each filter out the others' agendas, go back to the primary sources, and write an objective, non-politicized, (as) undistorted (as possible, given that historians are humans too) history of East Asia, and then agree together that all countries in question will hold to, and teach this propaganda-free history, and approach historical disagreements a little more rationally than has been happening so far.

That's my piece. I'm done on the topic, and frankly, tired of talking about it.

P.S.: Territorial disputes can be resolved peacefully. This territorial dispute between Ecuador and Peru was the cause of several wars, and still got resolved by diplomacy, in the end.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Bloggy bits and bites.

One of my students is excited that "the handsome one" endorsed Obama.

He sure waited until late in the game (shades of USA in World War One? Methinks he's hoping to get a VP undercard for tipping the balance.)

Ever notice how the music running through the heads of every aspiring composer who appears in a movie sounds like a movie score? Why don't they make movies about musicians who want to be avant-garde junkyard/power-tool percussionists, or experimental industrial electronica found-sound mixers? It's so totally unfair to all the great musicians who don't like "Oooh" choir synthesizer effects and soaring violins and low-voiced women "aaah"-ing over low, echoing digeridoos and double-bass reverb.

Point in case: the music doesn't start until the 2:00 point, but . . . An American Symphony

by Glenn Holland/Michael Kamen

Mr. Holland should definitely have gotten into movie scores.

I like the way the music playing in someone's mp3 player changes the way they walk down the street: instead of a normal gait, it's just so much more fun to walk behind an elbow-flapping, wrist-flopping, neck-craning disco-strutter. . . until the next song comes on (which is also entertaining, if they go, say, from Miles Davis to Metallica)

Next: It's funny how the tiniest thing -- getting just the right amount of sugar in your starbucks coffee -- can be all it takes to turn the corner and make a good day into a very good day.


Met a German dude on Friday night named Rainer who gave me this view on American football.

"It's not a ball. It's shaped like an egg. And you don't control it with your feet, you control it with your hands. It should be called Hand-egg, not Foot-ball."

I want to write a story about a guy who names his car "the Bull" just so that he can say, "Mess with the Bull, you get the horn." Har har har.

Quote from a twelve-year-old I know: "I'm the only kid in my group of classmates who's never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. Even Jeremy had a girlfriend back when he was in First Grade, but he says he didn't really know what love was back then."

Girlfriendoseyo took me down with a zinger a little while ago, while we were hanging out with her best friend. (Guess she was fronting or something.) On the odd fact that every old lady in Korea adores me (or at least my curly hair -- the young ones are hit and miss, but every old lady wants to know if it's a pama [perm]): "Roboseyo, the old Korean ladies like you because you have the same hairstyle as they do."

--which is true. One of the most shocking "Didn't expect Korea to be the same as North America THIS way" realizations I had was in my first year, when I realized Korean old ladies do exactly the same thing with their hair as western old ladies: cut it short, perm it, and dye it blue (optional). For comparison:


some Western old lady hairdos:



Some Korean old lady hairdos:


And me.



I've been busy as anything with certain important but boring, unbloggable tasks that aren't fun to write about, but cause computer-screen overkill and freon wave headaches or whatever it is that you get when you spend too much time in front of a computer (self-generated mad cow disease, perhaps? Fear the spontaneous spongiform!) so I haven't yet had a chance to flesh out the essay, "Five Things I'd Change About Korea," with links and funny pictures and soundtrack buttons, though I might do that this weekend: the text is complete, it's just a matter of getting it blog-friendly, link-rich, and fun.

Meanwhile, had a funny student day last Thursday, one in my public speaking class who refused to follow instructions and just tell the darn story, and instead made Aesop's fable, "The Ant And The Grasshopper" into a weird gay fetish fantasy, and then another student came into my next class half-cut, about two beers into his night of drinking, answering questions this way:

(it was a business English class)

Me: "How much money does the CEO of IKEA have?"
HDS (half-drunk student) "True wealth is not money. For example, I have God, and because of that, I am truly wealthy."
Me: "Next question."
HDS (to another student): "Celia, you are beautiful and charming."
Celia: Uh. . . thank you?
Me: So, uh, page ninety-eight, everyone?

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Ol' George Dubya has really earned this dressing down:

hat tip to Gord Sellar.


wow!

Read the transcript here.

Righteous outrage is fun to watch, and share.

Another interesting site my friend got me onto: Project Censored, a site devoted to publicizing, or at least noting, all the stories that governments and big businesses use their influence to bury. Yaaaay fifth column!

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Message to Coreana: how to make Hitler References (funny)

Brian from Jeollanamdo earned April's Blogger of the Month award from Blogoseyo, for breaking the story about Coreana, a Korean cosmetics company, using a woman dressed like a sexy femme-nazi to sell face cream, which eventually attracted the attention of the Simon Weisenthal center and CNN, but for which Coreana, to my knowledge, has never apologized, another bit of extreme dis ingenuousness, given the way Korea has vociferously demanded apologies for references to their own wartime humiliations.

(Update: On the comment board, LiveWithPassion tells me that Coreana apologized, but does not feel sorry enough to actually pull the ads and stop glamourizing Nazis and pissing on the graves of all the Jews, Gypsies, Gays, and others killed in concentration camps and otherwise, during World War II. Thanks for the info, Livewithpassion, but sorry to say, this remains indefensible. I'm sticking to my guns, apology or none.)

Metropolitician also writes about the startlingly blase manner of hitler and nazi references here in Korea (and it's a bit of a puzzle, given the war atrocities Japan committed over here in East Asia, that Korea would be so insensitive about using Nazi imagery in Bars, and TV ads.)

Here's my own message to Coreana:

there are only three ways it is appropriate to refer to Nazis in the world today:
1. As a documentarian (see: Disovery Channel)

2. If they're the bad guys in a movie, and you get to kill lots of them. (see also Hellboy, and many, many more) (or if they're portrayed as tragic, inhuman monsters - see Schindler's List.)


3. If you make fun of them, and DON'T GLAMOURIZE THEM OR TRY TO MAKE MONEY OFF OF REFERRING TO THEM.

(from Youtube, via collegehumor)
(oops: posted Indy twice at first. Here's the right clip.)

That's my piece. Thanks for listening.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Mike White: everybody warm up your prayer engines.

First heard of this from Brian, and then over at Marmot:

A fourteen-year-old named Mike White died in a Korean sauna in Daegu last Saturday; he coughed and retched in the sauna, and then passed out; the sauna owners neglected to call his mother (who was highly trained in first aid), phoned the ambulance and reported him as already dead (so they came slowly instead of quickly, and ill-equipped to resuscitate him), and basically bungled the situation so badly that a fourteen-year-old kid died needlessly.

It's a tragedy, and maybe also a travesty, that staff at a sauna -- where pools of water, powerful water-pumps, running kids, slippery surfaces, hard edges, old men, high temperatures, and sometimes alcohol, mix, were so ill prepared for such a scenario, and responded so half-heartedly, and I hope there is a thorough investigation into this poor kid's death, and that those to blame are held responsible. His mother, Stephannie, is devastated (of course).

Police in Korea are getting a reputation for needing their arms twisted before they try to get to the bottom of things, as evidenced here, and it seems, for trying to wiggle out of doing their due diligence on the "sounds too much like work" defense when they can: when Bill Kapoun died in a suspicious fire not long ago, according to the Save Bill Kapoun facebook page,"[Bill's family] had to sign papers terminating the investigation in order to have Billy’s body released,” so it remains unknown whether Bill's death was caused by accident or arson. Easier to close the file than to ensure justice is served if was arson.

You can read more about Michael and the White family's situation here, here , here (on facebook), and here.

There are compassion vigils planned in Seoul, and by the sauna where he died. If you live nearby, think about going. Let's not have this one buried and forgotten, too.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

for all the alienated weiguks living in Korea: Hail Nathan, defender of English Teachers!

I found this on Foreign/er, a random find from the Korean blog list, and found it very interesting to watch.



them cultural lines just keep blurring everywhere.

I really liked the part where, even though you can still hear the hurt in her voice when she talks about the discrimination she experienced when she came to America, she still explains how she doesn't see a racist in the old man shouting at immigrants in his neighbourhood; she sees a man having an identity crisis as the America he knew for sixty years suddenly changes completely. What an amazingly compassionate way to think of these people, kicking powerlessly against a changing world that just won't stop rolling, no matter what they do, and all that remains for them is to slowly watch themselves become irrelevant in the new society that sprouts up around them.

They must feel kind of like this guy:


Also: (cackle of glee) JoongAng Daily gets theirs:
Hail to Nathan Van, who stuck it to them for their sloppy write-up of the American pedophiles, which I mentioned in my rant here.

[LETTERS to the editor]Wrong example
May 12, 2008
Ser Myo-ja's May 9 front page article, "American pedophiles banned by authorities," should raise concerns among Americans, fact-checkers, and anyone else at all concerned with the truth. Ser Myo-ja reports on the Ministry of Justice's ban on convicted American pedophiles from entering Korea.
Ser Myo-ja goes on to mention Christopher Paul Neil [who was arrested in Thailand as a suspected pedophile who preyed on young Asian victims] as if he were American. He's not. He's Canadian. Why wouldn't the article mention that?
The Ministry's ban doesn't affect Canadians.
You should get your facts straight lest you add to the miseducation of Korean citizens, poisoning the minds of a society already tainted by isolationist ignorance and prejudgment.
Your misleading article poorly informs Koreans.

Nathan Van, Seoul


Once again, I raise my glass to Nathan Van from Seoul.

We'll see if my letter to the Korea Herald gets printed. . . it was a little longer than his, and used words like "shame" "racist" "irresponsible" and "duty to the truth". . . even if it doesn't get in the paper, they read it, and it'll go up on this blog, regardless.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Belated Happy Mother's Day

It's been on the blog before, but it still makes me miss my mom, and my brother, every time.


From online comedians Barats and Bareta.

Four of my favourite pictures of my mom:
Jane Oprivacyhand (1952-2005)