First, I point out that this post is not meant to harshly critique Korean (or any other) culture; it is rather intended to crystallize my observations on a number of topics down into a concise, digestible format. Second, I am not touting United States/western values over Korean ones; in fact, you will find that I actually prefer the Korean style of operation in several different areas. Finally, take this all with a grain of salt. As I learned upon arrival in Seoul, you can read every blog in the world in preparation for moving abroad and then when you get here, your experience may differ dramatically from those of everyone about whom you've read. Feel free to mentally preface most of what follows with "In my experience." This is just the WTRJ perspective.
On Confucianism and Collectivism
I knew before coming here that Korean culture was based heavily upon traditional Confucian values. However, I never could have divined the extent to which these principles would take hold in daily life. While the host of Confucian places of ancestral worship and similar cultural locations seem largely to have been relegated from practically useful to a position of solely historical and cultural significance, the values underlying this system are omnipresent and inescapable in Korean society. Confucianism dictates nearly everything, from relationships between young and old people to the way that you eat in a restaurant. One thing I have found surprising is the tendency of most Korean people to know a good deal about the country's history. On several occasions, I have found myself in discussions with my co-teachers about some cultural point, and without fail, they point to the significance of traditional values and refer to either the Joseon or Silla dynasty. In fact, they seem to have a startlingly solid grasp on their country's history, and I continue to be amazed at the way that the educational system has taught about the nation's past.
One dramatic difference between Korea and the west (in general) is the importance of status here, and I'm not talking about money, cars, or clothes. Well, those are part of it, but your status is first dictated by your age, and other factors only play a smaller role. In the Confucian system, there are five types of relationships: parents to children, husband to wife, ruler to subject, older brother to younger brother, and friend to friend. Obviously, all of these entail some sort of hierarchy; even in friend to friend bonds, there are rules that determine whom you should call a "friend." Confucianism only works if people know "their place" in society and more or less stick with it.
That's sort of a problem for me.
I admit that I am thoroughly steeped in western conceptions of human rights, the topic around which I designed my undergraduate course of study. That methodology doesn't function in Korea, as everything is built on the needs of the whole. A few examples:
- Pizza is usually only sold by the pie and never in slices. What a stupid observation, you might say. But think about it -- most people aren't going to eat an entire pizza by themselves, and many people aren't bringing a whole pie home to their families. I deduce that the Korean pizza business is this way because eaing is an inherently communal activity...restaurant owners just assume that you will be eating with a group of people that will share the entire pizza. But can a man get a single slice (with REAL cheese, that's another story) around here?
- People rarely use personal pronouns. I should point out that the Korean language uses subject-marking particles that are often dropped in conversation. It's sort of the same way that you don't normally say "yo" before a verb in Spanish unless you're trying to put emphasis on the fact that you did something. What I'm saying is much broader than that, though. "We" and "us" are concepts that you just hear more in Korean because people are usually talking about themselves based on their relationships with other people. "Our food is very healthy--you should eat a lot of Korean food while you are here," is something I've heard numerous times. "We do this, we do that." I occasionally walk around Rodeo Street (the center of Daegu's downtown shopping district) and find it strange to see a Korean person walking alone. Typically, they are in groups with friends or their significant other (a topic also to be covered later). In fact, I actually notice if someone is doing anything alone because it's strange here.
- Collectiveness breed exclusivity. My contention with the focus on collectivism is that this communal mindset encourages people -- more like indoctrinates people -- to think that everyone unlike themselves is somehow fundamentally different. I personally find it amusing that Korean people group ALL non-Koreans into this big melting pot of homogeneous "waygookin."
People often say, "You won't like that food because you're a foreigner, so it'll be too spicy for you."To the above, I'm generally thinking "Cómo se whaaaat?" To group the remaining 99.9% of the world into a category of being averse to spicy foods is quite absurd. I actually gain great pleasure from eating "really spicy" food right alongside Korean people without flinching. I think they find it intimidating or a little weird, but from my perspective, it's great! As an aside, Korean food isn't nearly as spicy as Korean people give it credit for being.
- Sticking a pin here, it's definitely not bad that people do things together--it is that sense of unity and oneness that led Korea from its past terribly repressive government to a much more liberal one today. I do acknowledge that Korea's history is ridden with invasions from foreign countries, etc. One totally has to acknowledge the historical and social past that has helped form the country's present. However, the whole "Korean v. the rest of the world" thing still proves irksome for me on a semi-regular basis.
On "Oneness" and Individuality
I differentiate Korean oneness from collectiveness in that oneness is, to me, more internal while collectivity is imposed from the outside. One of my co-teachers has remarked on numerous occasions about how something is "the Korean way." I've realized how important it is to understand what this "way" is in its myriad forms. However, sometimes things just don't make sense.
I regularly revise papers for my students and for Korean teachers. Sometimes the teachers will come to me with a grammar question, which I explain, and they say they understand the answer. But then they add that their (incorrect) grammatical interpretation is "the Korean way of thinking," which leaves me in this very uncomfortable position of wondering why they even asked me in the first place and how I can continue the conversation without being insensitive. It's really strange when people seem to want your opinion, but then subtly dismiss it by explicitly implying (sound like an oxymoron? It's not. Come live in Korea) that my perspective is invalid because it's somehow unKorean.
Despite the negative overtone of the last paragraph, I actually really enjoy talking to the Korean teachers about their lives. We had a great conversation class a while back where we talked about happiness -- what it means, if it's different for everyone, etc. It was fun pushing them past their typical limits of conversation by forcing them into unfamiliar territory. They'd give answers like, "Happiness means having a good work-life balance," so I'd retort with, "And how do you do that? What is balance for you? What really matters?" At first, they put on these angsty faces but then, they lightened up and we had an enriching discussion. I love that I'm able to learn so much by having a class where I structure conversation but mainly just give them room to express their opinions.
Moving to individuality...well, there just isn't much of that here. Not to say that no one in Korea is unique, but it's generally rather difficult to stand out in any noticeable way. Korean people more or less eat the same food, dress the same way, and in many (but certainly not all cases) think the same way. The society here isn't very accepting of people that depart from cultural norms, which I find so interesting because my life has been one long story of being "different." I wrote previously about how my eating something other than the school-provided lunch among the other teachers elicited long, uncomfortable stares and long, awkward conversations. Living here quickly gives you the feeling that the nail that sticks up gets hammered. Actually, I'd say "The nail that sticks up gets pounded down until it once again agrees with everyone else."
The education craze and English fever that have characterized the country over the past decade have contributed to a new type of oneness: everyone learning English. If you run into a young-looking Korean on the street...perhaps university aged...you can assume with a reasonable degree of confidence that they will have at least a roughly conversational knowledge of English because they would have been taught it in school. That would not be safe to assume with older populations unless you are somewhere like Suseong-gu, my neighborhood, where virtually everyone speaks a little English. The English language now has somewhat of a vice grip on Korean society, and this trend is not going to change. One week, my Korean teachers' class discussed the use of English instead of Hangeul (Korean language writing system) on signs. It was something that I hadn't noticed, simply because I read both English and Hangeul. But for people who don't know English, patronizing a coffee shop whose sign is written in English can be intimidating, if not downright scary. But English mania is a topic for another time :-)
On Eating in Korean Restaurants
This is the last, and most lighthearted, topic in this post. But it's one that merits consideration because eating in restaurants with Korean people is COMPLICATED! Here are some of the rules that one should keep in mind:
- Everyone's age. This will determine who may eat first, who should finish first, and at what rate you eat. It's rude if you finish your food before the eldest person, but you also shouldn't finish long after them because then you are keeping them waiting. This is why I absolutely scarf down my food at lunch -- my co-teacher hates talking at the table and absorbs his food, and will stare intensely and awkwardly at me if I finish after him.
- Support your hand when handing people things or pouring drinks. This one is nearly instinctive for me now. Since I'm right handed, I place my left hand under my right elbow. This is just a general respectful thing and it's so normal now that I don't pay attention. But when pouring drinks, you especially should either do this or hold the pouring instrument with both hands.
- Turn away from elders when drinking alcohol. The Korean drinking culture is...well, really strong. Nonetheless, if you're at the table with someone older than you, you are supposed to turn your head away when consuming alcohol in front of them (even if they gave it to you...well, they wouldn't have because younger people serve elders...anyway...). I'm still trying to fully understand this custom but it is obviously linked to respect.
- Eating with the correct utensils. There is a 300-page guidebook somewhere on how to eat in Korea, and all Koreans are born with the information in their blood. The rest of us, though, are left out in the cold and will look silly at restaurants. Some things are to be eaten with spoons and others with chopsticks and others with both. But there are also all these rules about how food is normally combined. When I first started teaching, I would have rice and whatever other non-seafood item was available that day. And soup, if I knew it wouldn't kill me. I soon learned that the rice was to be thrown into the soup bowl with miscellaneous vegetables, and also found that I would get strange looks if I ate the rice by itself. Again, this is one of those things that you would never know until someone points it out. And a Korean will point it out, which is nice, because at least that way you're learning.
That's enough restaurant rules for now! I could write tomes on this, but I won't. Now for Lost in Translation: Part II!
