A Minor Triumph

Mrs. Young Gyu Kim (Science Teacher | Wearing Green), Mrs. Geum Duk Oh (Home Economics | Wearing Light Blue), and Me.

It has been awhile since I wrote here but it was not due to any shortage of eventful things occurring on a daily basis here in Hwawon, South Korea. Everything from buying something at a store, expressing an emotion, or conveying the meaning of a joke is enormously rewarding when you have a limited command of the language.

As I said there are eventful things happening, some perhaps not as eventful to me as they are to others. I see it in the smile on a child's face attending Elementary school who finally uses a phrase he spent months practicing to introduce himself to a new teacher. I hear it in the story of an elder Middle School teacher who in his 30+ years of English education has not spoken to many foreigners or visited a Western country but who looks forward to traveling in the West when he finally retires. Again, I do not mean to diminish the significance of all these and similar events by leaving them out. I cannot help but leave them out.

May 15th was officially “teacher’s day” in South Korea. The only teacher’s day I've ever known in Canada was a back to school discount sale at Staples in early September. There were no public parades, rousing speeches from public officials, or store closings. Just some rice cake, flowers, and a few hand written letters shared with the faculty in the office. Although I haven't taught many classes yet I am beginning to feel the responsibility that my position holds.

It is sometimes hard to gage what things are important to note when preparing a lesson on a language you have spoken your whole life. English has never been strange to me though I admit I have struggled to learn the nuances of the grammatical laws that I blindly followed. I spoke it without question and it accompanied me unassumingly like a shadow. I never had reason to question my use of English and would not be the same person I am today without it. But it is fascinating just how unfamiliar I’ve become to myself here in Korea and how little language one needs to communicate. Here in Korea I cannot rely on any pre-established meaning nor can I convey meaning through my ostentatious word choices. Everything communicated must be as simple and honest as possible, there is simply no time for any of the usual semantics. No matter how successful I am communicating to others I cannot take credit for these small everyday triumphs rather I owe a debt to those around me who have accommodated and chosen to speak my language.

In particular, the kindness of several individuals in my office, Mrs. Kim, Mr. Lee, Mrs. Lee, Mrs. Oh and Mrs. Jung, have been nothing short of extraordinary. Even now in looking at my list I feel a sense of loss in having grouped them together, as if I could capture fully every significant thing that they or others have done. I digress. Perhaps I can shed light on these individuals and bring a greater sense of what impression they have left on me.

The first person to reach out to me was Mrs. Kim. I would be at a loss without this woman who has been critical to my transition into life in South Korea. Mrs. Kim has done everything for me from help me setup a bank account, cell phone, and even taught me about the bus schedule in Hwawon. While all of those are examples of the type of assistance I received from her, Mrs. Kim does it all with enthusiasm and sense of humour that shine through whether she is speaking English or Hanguel. When other co-teachers turn away if I voice a concern, Mrs. Kim is the only one who is willing to listen. I can tell by her hesitation that she has a lot of anxiety about her ability to speak English but that is why I value her willingness to communicate so much. And I want to stress that Mrs. Kim has offered her assistance without any official obligation or compensation from the school board. She has also tried to get to know me on a personal level by introducing me to her family in Mokpo, and taking me to a Temple service in Hwawon. I can’t possibly ask for more or thank her enough.



Along with Mrs. Kim there is Mrs. Lee, Mrs. Oh, and Mrs. Jung who have collectively designated themselves as my “new moms.” This is a title that I certainly cannot deny them. As a foreigner the state of your dependency on those closest to you is similar to needs of a child. It is others who interpret your meaning through gestures, tone of voice, and other means of non-verbal communication. Mr. Lee and my “new Moms” have been keeping me involved with what is going on in the office. When everyone is sitting down eating watermelon or rice cake in the staff room they will call me over to join in. Or when we are in the lunchroom they always and help me name the food items with correct pronunciation. After I made a comment about how difficult it was to find cheese in Korea, both Mr. Lee and Mrs. Lee went out of there way and brought me a package of processed cheese from the supermarket. While most of my co-workers try to avoid speaking to me, Mr. Lee and my "new Moms" make the effort to say more than just a simple “hello” on a daily basis and are constantly introducing me to new Korean terms while correcting my pronunciation errors. Without their support I would surely have limited engagement with the rest of the teachers in the school and would not have a comfortable environment to learn basic Hanguel.

I stress again that these are a limited number of examples drawn from my personal experiences. Fortunately there are so many examples to note from the range of relationships I have with students, store clerks, and neighbors. As an outside you are always reminded that you are stepping into a pre-established community. The challenge is not to overcome but to become apart of it. As I strolled down the only commercial road of Hwawon, I recognized by my failed attempts to read a store front sign that I was illiterate. It was a humbling moment where all my learned “knowledge” could not save me from the judgment of the things that I didn't know or neglected to learn. My ignorance stared me in the face. It persecuted me. However, despite how incapable I am of reading a bus schedule or understanding the price of an item at a store, I can never forget the debt I owe to all the Others who have made these small things possible. The Others are there before I call upon them. Their being-there present in the world forms the very condition in which any transcendence takes place. While some might hold fast to the absoluteness of self-autonomy, the similarity between all types of communication (whether verbal or body language) is that they are for and directed towards an Other. Without this fundamental relation to Others who are our only audience, language would be nothing but hot air.

At a Staff Party!



Sunny (Main Office Secretary) and Me - Whenever Sunny sees me walking to school she will stop and give me a ride up the hill.



Mr. Jung-Nam Lee (Vice Principle), Mrs. Geum Duk Oh (Home Economics Teacher), and Mrs. Young Gyu Kim (Science Teacher)



Sunny again being playful with the camera.



Mr. Kim (Office Manager), Mrs. Jin Sung Bae (Music Teacher), and Mrs. Kyung Hee Jung (Math Teacher)



A Birthday Party organized by my co-workers.


From Left to Right: Mrs. Kyung Suk Lee (Teacher Assistant) , Mrs.Jin Sung Bae (Music Teacher), Mrs. Young Gyu Kim (Science teacher), Mrs. Geum Duk Oh (Home Economics Teacher), Mrs. Kyung Hee Jung (Math teacher), and Mrs. Myeong Ja Lee (Korean Language Teacher)

Take a Bow

You begin to recognize you are a foreigner at moments when you seem completely out of tune with what is happening around you. When the most common everyday activities become remarkably novel experiences.

Take for example the practice of bowing in South Korea which is used as a sign of courtesy toward another. This week I found that I could not overlook my fascination with bowing as it is the most predominantly used gesture. Koreans will bow when they enter or leave a room (provided people are in it or a statue of Buddha), when they introduce themselves, when they say hello in the street, or even when they want to sell you something. There are two varieties that I've observed: the full torso bow and the less formal head bow.

Moreover, there is, like everything else in Korea, a hierarchal structure to the bowing ritual. Apparently the lower you bow to another person the more respect you are showing. This causes tensions for some Koreans in a way that you would not expect. Contrary to North American hierarchal structure where receiving respect is the sought after ideal, in Korea those who bow the lowest are viewed as the most virtuous so many Koreans will try to out-bow the other.

It would be wrong of me to say that everyone is as enthusiastic about bowing as I am. Just like any tradition there is a range in the level of participation. I can personally note a number of times where I bowed to a stranger only to receive a penetrating stare. As a foreigner you never know for sure if you are being stared at because the other person is just curious about you or if you are doing something that insults them. Rather than having these incidence reflect poorly on my bowing technique, I excuse an unresponsive local as having anti-social tendencies.

Despite a few minor setbacks, I still hold the opinion that bowing is an intriguing phenomenon - specifically what it says about the role of ethics in a Collectivist culture. The Western assumption is that lowering oneself for an Other is to diminished the self as individual. From this perspective ethics is reduced to a choice that begins and ends with the individual rather than the condition of our relationship to the Other. When one bows (i.e. putting the Other above the self) there is both a giving and receiving. It is an exchange that can only happen between two. One bows with the Other.

(This post is enormously indebted to the work of Emmanuel Levinas. If you would like to read more of my writing on him check out my other blog posts here)

Arrival in Hwawon: The Many Faces of Korea

I arrived today at the city and school I will be teaching for the next year Hwawon Middle/High School. The city of Hwawon is in the county of Haenam and is a 30 minutes drive from the major port city Mokpo. The city is fairly small with a modest variety of shops and restaurants. Nearly all the families here farm for their income and transport their produce to feed the hungry neighbouring markets. The houses here are small bungles with either a garden or cages for live stock such as pig, goat, and deer. To my knowledge I am the only native English speaker in the town of Hwawon although there is apparently many in Mokpo and Haenam city.

Before arriving here I attended the closing ceremony of my one week training session in Gwangju city where our regional director once again made a startling admission to the audience. He said that Koreans are guilty of expecting foreigners to be "Caucasian” and urged the school principles and teaching assistants in attendance to be open and avoid prejudicial views. Following this speech the English teachers were paired with the representatives of their new school. Unfortunately due to some miscommunication my teaching assistant and principle did not attend the closing ceremony so I accompanied the Haenam regional director to Haenam city where I was introduced to Mr. Cho who is one of the many teachers I will be working with.

Mr. Cho is a substitute teacher from Mokpo city who teaches Middle School English in Hwawon and like many of the teachers he commutes daily to the small rural community to work. Mr. Cho's comprehension of Enlgish is pretty impressive when spoken to at a comfortable pace but when he speaks his sentences are sometimes fragmented or lack the correct suffix. Overall there were barriers hindering our communication. When I asked Mr. Cho in the car what there was to do in Hwanam, he simply smiled and said with a quick staccato “sight see”.

Our first day was spent in the city of Mokpo where I received a comprehensive medical exam at the city hospital which is needed for my alien registration card (ARC) that will substitute my passport for identification. Afterwards we went shopping in Mokpo where I bought groceries and household items for my apartment at a three story department store called Lotte Mart, which is the equivalent of Wal-mart in South Korea. The ales of the store were often lined with more sales attendants than customers and each politely bowed as you walked by saying “Ka-sa-ham-nee-da” or in English “thank you”. Playing over the intercom system were hot and sexy American pop tunes from the likes of Ciara and Britany Spears. The in-store advertisements featured skinny Korean models with thin faces, wide eyes, and pale skin. If I didn't know better I could have sworn that I was still in North America.

When you turn on a T.V or pass a trendy clothing store, it is unmistakably obvious that American culture is a prominent feature of modern South Korea. It is so common place that almost all electronic devices, street signs, and vehicle have English labels in place of or next to Korean Hangeul despite only a small minority of the population speak the language. But while this cultural curiosity might be viewed as an innocent indulgence or a compromise to accommodate foreigners, it does have its uglier side. Western homogenization in Korea has not simply been the adoption of language but also its aesthetics.

In cosmetic print ad, T.V show, or department store check out counter, the Western practice of extending white privilege maintains its hierarchal status. Not only are there Caucasian whites featured prominently but there is the widespread use of light skinned Koreans to mimic the Western aesthetic. What is startling is that as a foreigner one gets exposure to the range of Korean skin tones like the “sandy” and “bronze” shades that are underrepresented in the media and tourist publications. It is this same “idealized” white man and woman that has been reproduced, distributed, and sold to Koreans and Americans alike. White is apparently the image of consumerism everywhere.

When I asked one of my co-teacher, Mr. Cho, whether light skinned Koreans received better treatment than those of dark skin, he simply repeated my question and said nothing in response. I chose not to push the matter further as it may have been a sensitive issue for him as a dark skin Korean male. Maybe he is not the only one to remain silent about the matter? Here in lies the danger and denial of the diversity that persist within the walls of Korea. As American culture continues to permeating everywhere, so too will the spread of its race dynamics even with a culture that is largely of the same ethnicity. According to survey conducted by Synovate "in Hong Kong, Malaysia, the Philippines, South Korea and Taiwan, 4 of every 10 women use a whitening cream." With Asian countries all adopting this aesthetic perhaps it is not so much of a secrete anymore? Does the absence of people of color in Korea media attests to how successful Western culture has been maintaining social inequality? Or is this something indiginous to Korean culture?