Latest Drawing
Who I Want in Charge of the World
Yesterday at the gym, I met a fellow Western expatriate of Daegu. I have seen him there before sometimes, but I thought he looked a bit geeky so I was never really enthused enough to go out of my way to say hello (we are the only non-Koreans ever in the gym). But, as fate or probability would have it, we were suddenly inches from each other in the change rooms and I decided to take the plunge and say hello. He is an American, teaching English at an elementary school. He is from Detroit, Michigan. People from the States always name the place they are from with the city followed by the state like they are giving a geography lesson. Which I always find bizarre. I asked about 40 students from the US one time where they came from and every single one of them did this. I usually just say that I am from Adelaide and let the blank look on their face just hang there; they are mostly too embarrassed to admit that they’ve never heard of it.
Anyways, Mr. Detroit, Michigan and I do idle chit chat (about gyms, of all things) for a few minutes. I asked him how long he has been in Daegu and how he likes it. He has been here for almost four months – the same time as me – and likes it enough already to be thinking to renew his contract for a further year…or two. I have only chatted with a few foreigners since being here as I feel almost no inclination to go out and meet them. The ones I have met are almost always the same as him: kind of geeky Americans who don’t realise just how bland Daegu is because they are incredibly bland themselves and come from somewhere incredibly bland in the US.
I was just about to make my escape when he decided it was time to exchange names. I never ask people what their names are when I first meet them, mainly because I don’t care about names, I will probably never see them again and will no doubt forget them the moment they are uttered. I mean, there is just so much information trying to batter itself into my brain, do I really need to remember everyone’s names as well? The exception being if it is a hot girl that I might just have the opportunity to sleep with (Charlene….her names Charlene, Charlene rhymes with what?…Marlene, but her name’s not Marlene…).
But then he did something a little strange: he held out his hand to shake, said his name – Brian – and looked me intently in the eye for about three seconds, frozen, not letting go of my hand. I am guessing, maybe, that either people never remember his name and he, long ago, learnt this strategy of holding people fixed to the spot while they process and remember his name, or he has developed it since being here because the Koreans can never remember his name (Koreans don’t remember a foreigner’s name because foreigners simply don’t count). Either way…weird. Still, it worked, the name Brian is burnt forever into my brain.
Anyway, this habit of Americans introducing their place of origin with the city followed by the state got me thinking (once again) of the generalizations you can make about cultures. Like the way every single Korean you meet will comment on how well you use chopsticks or the fact that you can eat Kimchi even though it is so spicy (no Korean food, including Kimchi is very spicy and, yes, foreigners can eat spicy food). In my three or so months here, I have come to the conclusion that Koreans think foreigners are completely talent-less and incredibly inferior to them and are genuinely surprised if you can actually do ANYTHING. (A Korean colleague of mine who lives in the same apartment building was amazed when I remembered the number pass code and let us both into our building some weeks after I had moved in. I mean, did he think I was breaking into my apartment every time?)
Which then got me to thinking, of all the cultures that I have had experience working with and living amongst, who would I want to be the next superpower, in charge of the world, the dominant hegemony of cultural exports?
Once upon a time, I would have said Australians, but not so now. Things have changed in Australian culture. If Australia was the dominant culture in the world, they would almost definitely accuse the rest of the world of being ‘un-Australian’ and put pressure on rectifying this. Australians can be way too paranoid and ignorant of other cultures (and yes, I know they eat takeaway Thai food, but this isn’t the greatest demonstration of a successful and inclusive multicultural environment).
Would I want to live under the Moroccans? Not from my experience when living there, where lying and corruption is just so endemic.
You probably know this is coming but, if there is one culture I would really not like to be the world’s dominant culture, it is the Koreans. I suspect, with their arrogance, vanity, adeptness at politicizing everything and their systematic, regimented, cold-hearted, almost robot-like way of going about things, I think they would just be too good at it and I, for one, would hate to live under that kind of regime.
The Italians? Maybe. If the world was to be flooded with good coffee and fine food. Just maybe, for once, we could shift our global agendas to more important things like sleeping with beautiful large-breasted women.
The Vietnamese? The Vietnamese can be simply awful to each other. Their value of human life and the life of animals is maybe not the most caring. But – and here is something maybe not everyone knows about the Vietnamese – when you have one as a friend, they are your friend for life and they can be very kind-hearted to people they like and know. Loyalty with the Vietnamese is hard-won but lasting. And Vietnamese (the women, at least) work really hard. The world might prosper but it would be a chaotic mess and whilst the Vietnamese would have all the money, everyone else would be poor.
The Singaporeans? Singaporeans are peace-loving and generally kind-hearted. It’s just that their cultural exports would be a little weird like Singapore itself: shopping malls and blandness, and because of the way modern Singapore was founded, the Singaporeans are really more followers than leaders.
Which leaves the Thais. Of all the cultures I have lived in, the Thais are, generally speaking, the most kind-hearted, easy-going and fun-loving. Sure, nothing would get done, but really, what’s all the hurry about? At least, under the Thais, we would have a global culture where happiness is valued. Though Thais can fight when they have to (look at their national sport), and this “Land of Smiles” thing is just one giant scam, they are, in the main, peace-loving pacifists, often looking to smooth over turbulent waters with a little sex, some massage or a nice green curry chicken. For global hegemony dominance then, my vote goes to the Thais.
Just Another Day in Daegu
As has become my habit, today I went to the local swimming pool near my apartment. It was closed for half an hour for lunch so I had to hang around. But, that’s not the weird part. As I have mentioned before, the men’s change room in the swimming centre is a kind of part bath house, part changing room affair. The men there like nothing more than to get naked with other men. So, having just arrived, I choose my locker, and standing in front of the mirror near me, is this big, ugly, fat Korean man, perhaps a little older than me, certainly much uglier. When Korean men are big, fat and ugly, they are really able to take these three attributes to a level of 11 on a scale that only used to go to 10.
So, I start arranging my things and this guy decides that he needs to be near me, so he saunters over, naked, towel in hand, faces me, puts one foot up on the seat just right next to me, stares me right in the eye and then starts slapping himself on the ass with his hand. I mean, here is this large man, staring me in the face and he’s slapping himself in the ass. That’s quite weird, I hear you say. You probably think that perhaps he’s mentally retarded, or perhaps gay…or both. No, it’s because he’s Korean (or, at least Daeguen). I would hate to have any kind of facility to know what goes on in the mind of your average Korean, particularly the men. Now, it’s hard to ignore this fat ass, ass-slapping guy, but, I do and continue to get changed into my bathing costume.
To get to the pool, one needs to walk through the bathhouse part of this affair. Which is, of course, full of old naked Korean men bathing together, enjoying the company of other naked men. All this is fine, but, of course, as I walk through on the way to the pool, they all make jokes in Korean about me and laugh. So, just in case any of you young hipsters out there were thinking of moving to Daegu for a change of scene, this is what you life would become…take heed.
Daegu people are so ‘not-international’ that it almost makes them, in some way, retarded. They simply have no idea how to communicate with someone who doesn’t speak Korean. Just now, at the supermarket, I was looking for fly spray so I was miming being a fly that was attacked with fly spray and died a painful death, to the shop attendant; I’m quite good at this. Now, I don’t expect this to help me, but sometimes I’m just in the mood for games and I want to have some interaction with these people who are clearly so freaked out to be around me. So, she keeps showing me the spray for killing ants and cockroaches, even though I’m clearly miming a flying insect of some kind (I know that ants and roaches can fly but they don’t go buzz…okay?) As soon as she walked away, of course, I found the fly spray right next to all the other sprays she was showing me.
I rode my bike home from the supermarket and, on the way, almost every person I passed stared me right in the eyes. No, it’s not some strange bizarre day of paranoia. It is like this here everyday. I am surrounded by strangeness. I suspect there has been quite a lot of inbreeding going on in Daegu. The level of weird-ass paranoid xenophobia is just completely off the scale.
Still, I AM able to go swimming in the middle of the day while other people are in an office or something. I am up to 16 laps in 30 minutes. I know this doesn’t seem like much, but it’s a big pool. I’ve decided to concentrate on my physical for a while: biking, swimming and the gym, and I’ve dropped 3kgs in the last two weeks. So, there are positives to this whole experience. It’s just a shame that Daegu is the most bland, xenophobic, paranoid place I’ve ever been. But, then again, you can’t have everything.
Bike Ride Last Weekend
I rode out of the city near the mountains...along the river.
- Ive taken to wearing a scarf over my nose and mouth after almost coughing up a tonsil on the last couple of rides.
- Bike Bandit
Guard, there’s a Platypus in the Pool!
Recently I’ve started swimming at my local pool: an Olympic-sized indoor heated pool with all the facilities. Unfortunately, it’s crowded most of the time but I need the exercise and it’s good for my back. Up until now, my experience of living in Asian countries has been, when it comes to men’s change rooms, Asian men can be quite shy about nakedness. In Vietnam, the men will slip into the shower cubicle to change into their shorts at the gym and in Thailand, shorts are changed into discreetly under a towel tied around their waists, sarong-style. I must say, being a little shy myself, I’m all for a little discretion in the men’s change rooms; being surrounded by hordes of naked men just isn’t something I’m willing to pay for.
Not so in Korea. In Korea, they don’t even have cubicles. The showers are all lined up against the wall concentration camp style and the men are completely naked all the time, walking around as though wearing a three-piece suit. And they get right into it. I’ve seen them sitting on the floor in the shower room, lathering up like there’s no tomorrow, going to great lengths to wash out all their swimming gear in the small tubs provided. Never let it be said that Korean men don’t wash.
Once in the pool, relieved at the site of all that clothing around me, unfortunately, the staring really begins (of course, I am the only foreigner there, probably ever). One would think that a platypus had somehow managed to sneak into the pool and everyone, while being completely freaked out that there is a platypus in the pool (and not knowing what a platypus is), was too polite to actually approach the platypus and tell him that he’s in the wrong place and that the platypus swimming area is down the street. So, instead, they silently freak out and stare. Though, this time, on a positive note, I was greeted by a guy who worked there who was very friendly to me and spoke some English.
But what really impressed me, was, after I had swam my laps (I can only manage 12…it’s a big pool) and lathered myself up in the shower room with all the saggy old Korean men, I was opening my locker to get my things and, next to me is an old Korean man sitting on the floor (naked, of course) and he is playing with the lock (yes, I did say LOCK) on his locker. While I was changing, I watched him for about 10 minutes and it soon became apparent that he was patiently trying to fix the lock on the locker. He had obviously just arrived, got naked, and then discovered that the lock was broken. But what is amazing to me, is that, instead of just getting another locker (or maybe pulling on some clothes), of which, there were plenty of free lockers available, he patiently sits on the floor and begins trying to fix it himself, and not just a quick cursory look, I mean, if this guy had a tool box out in his car, he would have gone out there to get it. This is truly one of the great things about Koreans: their willingness to work and pull together for the greater good of Korea. In this, they are very proud and have been trained particularly well. And this is, of course, the reason that Korea went on to being a developed country so quickly.
Like a Black Man in America
If you are a white man who wants to know what it might be like to be a black man in America, move to Daegu, Korea. Here, you will have the special opportunity to experience extreme prejudice based on nothing more than the fact that you are not Korean (or, probably, even that you are not from Daegu). For me, here, I feel as though every local Daegu person has read the same damning propaganda about foreigners and what they are capable of, and, on site, reacts that way towards me.
Last weekend, I as I entered the elevator with my bicycle (which, in itself, may be something that Koreans don’t dig), a Korean guy and girl in about their mid-twenties entered with me. The girl made such a show of standing as far away from me as possible, right in the corner with her nose hard up against the wall, with this look of, almost fear, on her face. Then her boyfriend, seeing that she was obviously in distress at the prospect of being in such close proximity to a foreigner, made a show of putting himself between her and me, with his back right in my face in order to protect her from any diseases or such that may waft out of my person. I’m sorry, but I’m too old for this shit. I really wasn’t aware that this kind of ignorance is still in existence. But, there it is. As a foreigner in need of a situation to re-install his faith in humanity, Daegu may not be the appropriate place.
I think my blogging may be in danger of becoming nothing more than a damning critique of Daegu. I need a positive in here somewhere. Yesterday was a blue sky day and I rode my bicycle out of the city and nearer to the mountains…and found this:
Even the people seemed a bit friendlier out here. Or maybe it was just because there wasn’t many of them. I had forgotten how much I love to escape from crowds to a place of enormous spaces and no cars or motorbikes (cars, trucks and motorbikes are an absolute scourge on the planet).
After being in crowded cities like Bangkok and Ho Chi Minh City for the past couple of years, one of the most amazing experiences I had for space and getting away from it all was my trip to Bagan in Myanmar last year. It was the low season and I had all of the hundreds of temples pretty much to myself. In fact, in the hotel where I stayed, there was only one other guest there.
