People Are Strange When You’re a Stranger
Anyoung,
My demon of a flu-bug is almost gone, with just a little residual cough left, although my stomach is having a very difficult time adjusting to all the rice and spice here. I’ve only settled for McDonald’s once since getting here, but I am considering it tonight. I’m all over the raw fish, but can’t really afford to eat like that all of the time… at least not yet. Just no more rice, please.
Koreans can be the biggest, rudest bastards, but they can also be incredibly helpful and friendly. Two days ago, I was walking past a bunch of Korean men sitting in a parking lot around a BBQ, getting drunk on soju and playing with a stray dog. One of them pulled out what looked like a real pistol, cocked it, and took aim at me. I started laughing at him, thinking it normal Korean humour, and half-expected a laugh from the gun-toter. Instead, his eyes bulging red, he muttered in Korean and kept the gun aimed at me until one of his friends finally scolded him to put it away. The guy with the gun looked wasted, and not very pleased at my alien presence. Who knows? Maybe I almost took one in the chest.
The overworked Koreans vent at PC bangs, such as the one I am in at present. All of them are giggling maniacally and blowing holes in digital enemies on their computers… and we’re talking twenty and thirty year olds. If I lived the life of a Korean male, with their stupidly intense schooling and mandatory two year army service, I’d smoke, drink, and cyber-fight heavily, too…. maybe. One of my kids told me to fuck off in Korean yesterday, and another called me a dog-baby (equal to son of a bitch in English). I learned these expresions my last time here. I schooled ‘em the best I could, becoming as fearsome as possible (for such a chill and personable guy). So far, all of my classes are very good, as I’ve set the standard of behaviour early. These two classes are a little tougher, though, and a couple of students seem immune to my military-style punishment. I finally had to cry for help from a Korean teacher once yesterday. Amazing. The little shits respond immediately to a Korean face, male or female. Oh well… Like I said, most of my classes are good. It’s the bad ones I get paid the Big Won for, I suppose.
Koreans can be so helpful, too. Over-the-top helpful. Today, I put some change into the ticket machine at the Subway. It ate my change, and I was about to spaz because I didn’t have any more change. A guy came over, pulling someone official along with him, and told the man my problem on my behalf. They both helped me get my ticket. Shortly after that, while waiting for my train, some Korean dude tried kicking off a conversation with me. I told him, in Korean, that I didn’t really understand Korean, and added, in Korean, that I was from Canada. My Korean must be getting better, because when I say these things to them, they babble on in Korean thinking I understand more than I do. Any way, I asked him if the train that was arriving went to Haeundae (my stop–my BEACH), and he went way out of his way to walk me to the correct exit and make sure I was pointed in the right direction before heading back down to proceed to his own home. In Seoul once, I had a drunk business man try to hold my hand all the way home (literally, kind of… male’s are pretty touchy here), even running a long distance back to tell me that the subway was closing, and to help me hail a cab. So yeah, these Koreans can be pretty damned helpful, which is a nice change from the usual cold dislike or disinterest you generally get from them.
So for now, my Pity Party is over, and I’m starting to get into the rhythm again. Pics coming very soon!
Tee Cha Su Tee Bun
