"But Darling!..."

One of my nicest students gave me some Korean movies to watch over the holidays, including "One Fine Spring Day" a movie that was filmed in my town Samcheok, Gangwon province. It's not a great movie, but I enjoyed watching it since it's full of familiar sights and daily only-in-Korea-isms that have become part of my own daily life (drinking Hite outside Buy the Way, sitting in dirty bus depots, waiting for ramyeon to boil, eating barbecued pork from the hands of persistent, drunk elderly woman..).

It's about a doomed 30 something couple-- A loose, two-faced divorcee and a sheepish, wincing grandma's boy who lives at home-- whose spring romance centers a lot around um, eating ramyeon, and whose turn it is to make it (which I was eating as I watched it).

This early, idyllic eating ramyeon scene, foreshadows how untrustworthy and unfit for marriage the girlfriend character is:

Oh, Snap!

Next: "April Snow" , the most famous thing ever to happen to my town (bus loads of sexually charged Japanese women make a pilgrimage to Samcheok every spring because of it). Every single building it was filmed in bears a commemorative "April Snow" plaque and film poster. At the local hospital, the first thing you see in the funeral wing is a floor to ceiling banner bearing the male lead's coy mug. I've seen Bae Yong Joon's oversized bespectacled face more this year than my own mother's, so I might as well watch this movie once.

Stay tuned.

“Where Are You From?” “어디서 오셨어요?”

One of the biggest adjustments for many “foreigners” (or, Waygookans) in Korea is becoming a visible minority and having everyone around you react to your difference. I live in a smaller rural city, so foreigners are more noticeable than say, a place like Seoul, or even Gangneun. Now when I go to larger cities, it’s so weird to see non-Korean people walking around, and it's weird to be ignored by Koreans.

There are more of us now, but before I knew every foreigner in town, all 8 of them. Here, little kids stop in their tracks, drop their jaw, and sometimes point while yelling “Waygookin!” to alert the other munchkins, like they’ve spotted the mythical Yeti. Older people stare and discuss you unabashedly, especially in restaurants. “What will the Wagook order? Does the Waygook know Kimchi? Can the Waygook use chopsticks? Why is she eating alone?” (an anomaly in this group-centric culture). Sometimes I feel self conscious about having spinach in my teeth or red sauce on my face, because everyone is looking at me. Then I remember, Oh yeah, I’m an outsider. Because sometimes, lost in the business of work, my dull daily routine, the book I am reading or the song on my headphones, I kind of forget I am in Korea and stick out amongst those around me.

Spot the waygookin!

For those of non-Caucasian ethnicities, with darker skin, it is of course even more frequent. But for most Caucasians, it is the first time they have been treated like an outsider. And many of them don't deal with it well. In fact I think the overabundance of curious "Hello, Where are you froms?" is one of the first annoyances that eventually transforms the naive, friendly, fresh-off the-plane newbie-- who at first eagerly responds with a butchered Korean phrase from the back of their Lonely Lonely Planet guidebook (저는 “Canada” 에서 왔어요!) -- to the hostile, embittered, disenchanted semi-racist teacher nearing the end of their contract, who is more likely to respond with a "Fuck off, I'm walking here!" Or, "Where are YOU from, douche bag?", if they even stop to acknowledge the remark at all.

Once the novelty of your celebrity status wears off, yeah, it is irritating to encounter the same wonderment at your origin, from cashiers, passerbyers, waiters, people in the elevator and taxi drivers (who always coyly ask if I'm Russian due to the large amount of Russian Prostitutes in the neighbouring port city), especially after work when you're tired and don't feel like talking, since making conversation is your job. I’ve definitely felt this annoyance, and anger at being picked out from the crowd and pressed to put a label on my otherness for some nosy stranger. But, it's unfair to single Koreans out on this one. Because I've felt this annoyance everywhere I've ever been, my entire life. The thing is, I probably get asked “Where are you from?” MORE in my own country, Canada.

Me and my older bro, Lee

Explanation: I am 100% Canadian. I was born in Edmonton. The least exotic place on Earth. If one is to accept the Canadian stereotype of cold, snow, beer, hockey, pickups and plaid flannel, then there would be no more typically Canadian place than Alberta. But I also consider myself quintessentially Canadian because of how multicultural my family is. On my mother's side, it's possible my Grandfather has Métis ancestry, but he was adopted so it’s unclear. Her mother's parents came to Canada from Sweden. My father grow up in Canada, but my Grandma lived in China until after the Second world war. And my step-dad and his family come from Yugoslavia. So, for lack of a better definition, my older brother and I are half Chinese with some European and maybe Native mixed in there. This 'mix' results in ethnic ambiguity. When I worked in the service industry back home, I literally faced the 'whereareyoufrom' question on a daily basis (which i dodged in a variety of ways, for the sake of my job struggling to be polite, despite a boiling urge to kick in teeth)

At home, there is no language barrier between people's naked curiosity and the facts behind why I look different from them, why my skin, eyes and hair are darker, why I have a funny last name. At home, strangers in all kinds of situations approach me, wanting to know my origins. The "Where are you from" question became a personal dread right in my first days of Kindergarten. With maturity, I care less about it; but up until after my teens, I was extremely shy and just wanted to be invisible. But in my small town, where half my elementary school was related, I stuck out from my fair skinned peers.
"Where are you from?" the other kids would ask. "Edmonton, Alberta" I would respond, looking at the ground. "Um... so why is your skin brown?" they would ask, puzzled. This continued into adulthood, except adults use phrases like "What's your nationality?" (Canadian, asshole) "What's your background?" (Post-Colonial Literature) "Are you Spanish?" (I really want a shirt that says "Not All Brown People are Spanish") and the less tactless yet ever popular, "What are you?" (human? Pisces? hungry?). Same curiosity, different wording. Then there are the creepy guys with a fetish for "exotic" women who sidle up to you; these sick fucks are the reason why pornography is divided into ethnic categories. I'm not sure why they think my friends and I will be flattered by the label "exotic"; It makes me think of a Pygmie creature on display at the zoo. An ethnic restaurant one occasionally visits for touch of adventure. A week long trip to a Mexican resort. Something that doesn't belong. Admired, perhaps, but separate, an artifact under glass.

Grandma, me and cousin, out for dim sum (Grandma is scared of the flash, haha)

My younger brother's father is from Yugoslavia. A place as foreign and distant as China, where my biological father is from. But because he appears white, no one questions where he came from. Once in college, I went out with a group of friends including a young girl on exchange from Germany. But no one asked where the blond haired blue eyed girl was from... it was my "nationality" people we met asked about; it was me they assumed was the visitor from another country.

So, while I totally get the irritation and offense foreign teachers in Korea, I don't think it is entirely fair to translate these frustrations into hostility, or judgments upon Koreans as a cultural group, because in North America, visible minorities encounter the very same thing. Just think back to High school. At least in my small town, those who exhibited visible difference always faced comments, far less benign than where are you from. People who go overseas to teach ESL are generally an open minded, liberal group with more cultural knowledge and interest than people who never leave home. Yet, even the most fair minded educated individuals seem to crack under the constant looks and questioning.

Now at home, I don't have kids crowding around me asking me questions, and yes it's annoying. But these are kids we're dealing with. And if your reaction to this situation is to blow up and shout at them, you probably shouldn't be in the teaching business. "But Kids at home are taught better, taught to be polite." Maybe, but that doesn't mean it's true. If anything, kids at home are ruder. Put a group of young white kids in a room of an Asian kid and listen to their private conversations, the things they ask the kid who is different. What they might not say around mom still gets said. Curiosity with no regard for decorum is not isolated to Korean kids. This is all kids. I’ve been around enough little kids at home who say in a loud voice to their mom. “That man only has one leg!” “Or, why is that man a different color?” and other embarrassing things. Later, most of us learn this is rude, but the fact that it starts infant hood should remind us that noticing difference and being curious about it is very normal, in all species and cultures. And it isn’t limited to Koreans.

I guess, in a mischievous way, it's an interesting experiment for me to witness the reactions of other "foreigners" to the question. I am fascinated by the reaction of Korean people to me, and of other Foreigners to Koreans, and how they are treated by them. It's quite interesting for me to be asked this question on the other side of the world, in Asia, in response to the other side of me, my English speaking, Caucasian, non asian side of me. Whereas at home, the difference they notice is my asianess. Afterall, most of us aren't from Korea. Unlike when I'm asked this question at home, in Korea, I am from another place. It's a valid question. Most foreigners Koreans meet are sojourners, here for just a year. Many foreigners do settle here permanently, but they still do come from another country.

I definitely understand my fellow teachers when they rant about how annoying it is. But I hope, instead of returning home with prejudices about Korean people, the majority of teachers will use their experience as a "waygookin" to empathize with and better understand those who are treated as outsiders in the nations they were born in and call home.