On Feeling Foreign
I was able to talk with a close friend not too long ago about my time here thus far. Despite what you read in these posts, I have a pretty good time in Daegu. I've met people from all over the world, joined a sports team, settled into my apartment, adapted to the workload, come to understand my students; In some ways, I feel like I've established a sense of belonging. I tell something of this affect to my friend. He asks me what's the biggest difference, and I have a hard time answering that question. It took me the duration of the conversation to really sift out what it was. Perhaps because it had felt so long since I first came into the country, the feeling had waned when he asked me what was different. But even now, I know it as an immutable truth. There won't be a time in this country where I won't feel foreign.
There are the obvious indicators that express feeling foreign, among them being physically different and isolated by the language. The physicality of it doesn't bother me. Some Koreans do stare, but I know it's not out of malice or disrespect. They are genuinely curious about Westerners because learning English is held at such a premium here. However, the language barrier can be unsettling. Although I quite enjoy silence as a time to reflect, I yearn for ambient conversation. You might call this "eavesdropping," I call it entertainment. Either way, the lack of hearing spoken English really makes me miss my native tongue.
Then there are the cultural differences. Although eating presents a new standard of etiquette (and thus another difference), I'm usually left alone due to the amount of food that I eat. On more than one occasion the female servers at restaurants have told me that I'm a good eater (of course in Korean, albeit with a gracious grin), even if I ate what they served wrong. Some dishes require a certain method of preparation once they get to the table. Which is all fine, if you liked being told in what order you should eat your food. Age is also another thing I haven't quite figured out as well. Koreans largely abide by a moderate age- (and gender) based hierarchy. Essentially younger people are expected to do things for their elder peers. Trying to negotiate this social position has been sketchy with my Korean coworkers and bosses.
However, the epitome of this foreign feeling came this last Friday. Two of my classes put on a performance for "Sleeping Beauty," and their parents were going to come watch. On the morning of said performance, I was asked to change from my button down shirt and khakis into a suit. The sole reason for this change in attire was to impress the parents. In Korean culture, beauty is revered so much to the point that whatever a ""beautiful" person says is valued much more highly than someone who is thought not beautiful. This was one of maybe a handful of instances in my waking life where I have been made to feel objectified. First-world problem? Inherently, no. In this instance, probably. Either way, it was uncomfortable and awkward. Essentially, I was dressed up to give a more positive impression than what my teaching may or may not impart. Idealist or not, I definitely felt like a foreigner on display.
I imagine it will be nigh impossible not to feel a least a little foreign during my time here. I don't know the language. I have but a tenuous proficiency in Korean social etiquette. Aside from these reasons, I am treated differently (not better or worse) because of my physical appearance. I suppose this is just one of those times where you face what you're given, accept, and move forward the best you can. Besides, I could be ugly and living in Korea.
There are the obvious indicators that express feeling foreign, among them being physically different and isolated by the language. The physicality of it doesn't bother me. Some Koreans do stare, but I know it's not out of malice or disrespect. They are genuinely curious about Westerners because learning English is held at such a premium here. However, the language barrier can be unsettling. Although I quite enjoy silence as a time to reflect, I yearn for ambient conversation. You might call this "eavesdropping," I call it entertainment. Either way, the lack of hearing spoken English really makes me miss my native tongue.
Then there are the cultural differences. Although eating presents a new standard of etiquette (and thus another difference), I'm usually left alone due to the amount of food that I eat. On more than one occasion the female servers at restaurants have told me that I'm a good eater (of course in Korean, albeit with a gracious grin), even if I ate what they served wrong. Some dishes require a certain method of preparation once they get to the table. Which is all fine, if you liked being told in what order you should eat your food. Age is also another thing I haven't quite figured out as well. Koreans largely abide by a moderate age- (and gender) based hierarchy. Essentially younger people are expected to do things for their elder peers. Trying to negotiate this social position has been sketchy with my Korean coworkers and bosses.
However, the epitome of this foreign feeling came this last Friday. Two of my classes put on a performance for "Sleeping Beauty," and their parents were going to come watch. On the morning of said performance, I was asked to change from my button down shirt and khakis into a suit. The sole reason for this change in attire was to impress the parents. In Korean culture, beauty is revered so much to the point that whatever a ""beautiful" person says is valued much more highly than someone who is thought not beautiful. This was one of maybe a handful of instances in my waking life where I have been made to feel objectified. First-world problem? Inherently, no. In this instance, probably. Either way, it was uncomfortable and awkward. Essentially, I was dressed up to give a more positive impression than what my teaching may or may not impart. Idealist or not, I definitely felt like a foreigner on display.
I imagine it will be nigh impossible not to feel a least a little foreign during my time here. I don't know the language. I have but a tenuous proficiency in Korean social etiquette. Aside from these reasons, I am treated differently (not better or worse) because of my physical appearance. I suppose this is just one of those times where you face what you're given, accept, and move forward the best you can. Besides, I could be ugly and living in Korea.
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