Tall Tales From A Short Canadian

Howdy y’all,

I try to be as culturally sensitive as I can be on this site, and in general, but I must confess that I censor myself and resist criticizing my current hosts when, in many cases, they probably really deserve it. I understand that all things are culturally relative. I understand that this nation has been through wars and has been conquered and taken over by the Japanese. I understand that their values are based on totally different foundations than my own. But now that they have entered the global community, now that they consider themselves international players, it’s due time that they get some criticism. Well, how about if I just jot a few things down here for you, for trivial entertainment value.

My first qualm with Koreans is this: PARENTING (or lack thereof). One thing Korean parents have working for them is their children’s safety, overall. In North America, parents have to vigilantly keep one eye on their kids at all times, out of fear of kidnappers, terrorists (ha!), and paedophiles. Here in Korea, children are pretty safe. It’s not that uncommon to see them running around at night outside of bars. Nobody worries about it, and I think this is great. Unfortunately, this freedom afforded to Korean children probably contributes to the way they act. Nicole and I were talking about it the other day. We agreed that Korea was being overrun by children. Children run the show here! Confucianism is dead in Korea! The only time I see it really being exercised is when a few old business chaps saunter up to the taxi lines and butt their way to the front. Elders seldomly receive respect from the young here, at least not to my eyes.

For example, on the subway, the only time I have seen a younger person give up a seat for an older person was in the case of a foreigner giving up his seat. No, on the subway, the kids yell and laugh and talk boisterously and play on their mini playstations with a general disgregard for anyone, really. I’m telling you, they are among the worst behaved people in the world, are these Korean children. Perhaps every other day, at least one child at my school will behave in a way that would have him suspended or expelled in Canada. Here are a few examples that are close at hand in my memory banks:

Last week, a kid (my very favorite student… favorite to kick out of class, that is!) brought his B.B. gun to school, shot two of my other students, threw an eraser at me when I took his gun away, and when I sent him outside, he told the Korean school director to fuck off. I had another B.B. gun pulled on me yesterday, and this was by one of my favorite students who I assume thought I’d respond playfully. I took the gun (which was rattling full o’ B.B’s) away, told everyone in the class that if I saw another gun, I would keep it, and that in Canada, kids would get suspended for bringing loaded firearms to school. They just don’t get it. Why? Korean parenting (or lack thereof). recently, I’ve been hearing that most male elementary students are now packing pistols to school…

Hypothetical morning at fictional Yoon’s household, Monday morning at 7:45 AM: Korean mom: “Yoon, do you have your rice and kimchee?” Yoon: “Yes, old lady. Now gimme some money.” Korean mom: “Yes, dear. Did you pack enough B.B’s for the day, son?” Yoon: “Sure did. I even have an extra one here for you, old lady!” Pkoooo!!!

Now, Nicole works at my school, which is in the most affluent part of Busan, but she does a few shifts a week in the core at a much more ghetto hagwon. Some of the kids there sounds absolutely awful, and I have thought about going there myself to take a stick to them. I know it sounds harsh, but Nicole has had to do just that. Imagine smiley, usually complacent Nicole Baarbe, walking around a classroom waving a stick around, smacking desks and occasionally jabbing kids in the ribs… it happens! Every week. Being in a classroom full of Korean kids is sometimes like being in a cage full of hyenas, all high on sugar. An older student in class told her the other day, out of the blue, the she was fat, and that she needed to diet. I get this occasionally, too, but only jokingly from my most beloved prize-pupils. Well, in this case it was said out of malice. We both feel that many Korean boys, led by the examples of their fathers, are consiously and deliberately rude to foreigners, especially women, because to bow down to a female alien would be far too much for their national and masculine prides!

Daily, I am called bukbuggy (baldy), monkey teacher, hallibudgy (grandfather), crazy teacher (a title I back-up), and things of that sort. I have had my students for seven months now, so I can usually detect when these things are being said playfully, and when they are said spitefully. Most of the time, the little punks are just kidding around. When Nicole’s student called her fat, he was not being playful. To the best of my admittedly hazy recollections of my own elemantary school years, I do not recall this kind of abuse being flung at my teachers this regularly! How many examples do we have now, two? Onward, then! Here’s a good one:

Last weekend, Nic and I were enjoying one of the last real hot beach days of the year, just laying on our mat reading and taking in the ultraviolets, when a rowdy gang of undisciplined kids came running up beside us, throwing sand at eachother and just being loud. Their moms and aunts were all watching, screaming at them to stay clean. A few of the kids got a bit dirty, running through the skim and then picking up wet sand on their pant legs. So this mom comes down and gives them a box of kleenex and demands that they clean up, or they won’t be allowed in the car. God forbid that they should bring sand, dirt, or even undenatured air into the car. They must keep the natural world OUT! So with the mom intermittently watching and doing her lipstick a safe distance from the wild and unpredictible ocean, the kids wiped all of the icky sand off of their legs and shoes, and started running back to the adults, leaving behind a sizable pile of discarded tissue inches from the tide line. We yelled at them, but they kept running. With pride, I watched Nicole run up, gather the tissue up, and chase the little pricks down, stuffing the rubbish into one kid’s hands and pointing to the nearby trash can angrily. The mother just stood there, looking stupified. “Put our own garbage in the suraeggi (trash bin)? Oh, you zany waygoogins!”, her look suggested. Actually, she looked a little embarrassed. As she should have! I’d have gotten a glimpse of Delbert’s belt had I done that!

Occasionally at school, to break up the monotonous routine of “How’s the weather today?”…”It’s velee velee sunny!”, we have book parties upon the completion of a text book. This gives the kids the chance to consume even more crap than they ordinarily do on a school day. Normally, when a book party is planned, they come to class with snacks, and then we, the teachers, bring a big bag of chips or something, and maybe some pop, into class. Well, I had this one class (probably my worst one), and one day, feeling jovial and getting extremely bored of the book we were studying, I told them to work very hard for the next month and I’d buy them chicken or something for the book party. They were so excited that they actually did work hard for a day or two, but when class morale began to slip, the mention of chicken would improve things nearly instantly. SO when the day came, I was kind of obligated to get some chicken, which I did for about five dollars. Well, I ran around like a waiter and handed out chicken to the little spoiled brats, and the entire time they whined because they didn’t get any sauce, or they did and they didn’t want it, or Andy got a bigger piece, or I didn’t hand them out fast enough. I told them they were spoiled brats and that they were essentially evil. Not until I became visibly pissed, did one girl finally say “thank you, teacher” near the end of class, and most of them followed suit. Anyway, that’s the last time I do that! I am trying my best to teach them manners here, but I’m working against old, familial conditioning. Few of my students knew when to say “thank you” when I first got them. They’re learning, slowly.

I do realize that I am contributing to the problem through some of my reward systems, but I am trying to change that. Unfortunately, these kids are already dialed into a system based on rewards, praise, and most poisonous of all, bribery.

Hypothetical Saturday at fictional Yoon’s household, 12:30 PM: Korean mom: “You shot a student in the eye! His parents are very angry!” Yoon: “Sorry, mom, but he tried to steal my chocolate bar.” Korean mom: “Really?! Well, in that case…” Yoon: “Well, he looked at it.” Korean mom: “If this happens again, I’ll… I’ll… take away your playstation games!” Yoon: “Ha ha ha! No you won’t!” Korean mom, stammering: “Well, then I just won’t buy you one this week.” Yoon, putting on the infamous Korean pout: “Oma! Come on. You don’t love me! No wonder I’m so bad. You’ve never loved me!” Korean mom: “Oh, yes I do, Yoonie! I love you! Here: go get two games, and some kimbap while you’re at it! Promise me you’ll be good!” Yoon, eyes fixed on the won in his mom’s hand: “Yeah, ok. Whatever.”

I know I’m being a bit harsh, but from what I see, Korean parenting is that bad in many cases. I do have the odd student who shows me the kind of respect a teacher could expect in North America. You can really tell the students who do receive proper discipline, who are taught respect and manners. But I tell you, from my experience, they are very few and far between. Do I sound racist? A korean teacher at my school spent a few years in America, and she told me that Korean kids are terrible. They’ll tell their teachers they don’t like them, or that they’re ugly, or that they want to go to a different class. I’ve had it, too. I just laugh and make them do extra lines, now! But really, in all fairness, it comes down to a rapid change in lifestyle in Korea, I think. After all, Koreans went from eating on dirt floors to living in high-rise apartments and having a big rep in global economics nearly overnight. The fathers are essentially money-providers, working insane hours and then going to <ahem> company meetings (aka bbq soju piss-ups) after work. And did you know that kids in Korea study from about nine in the morning until (in some cases) twelve at night? I shit you not. And this doesn’t even include studying done at home.

Well, there’s my rant. Something needs to change, I feel, because these kids are not going to grow up to be very globally minded, conscientous people if the adults don’t start to give them some sound behavioural guidelines. On that note, perhaps all hope lies with the younger generations.

over and out,

suteebun