Crossing the Lines

Crossing The Lines

She is standing at the curb shifting her weight back and forth. She has her light blue Kumon bag full of books from the hakwon she just left at 11:00p.m. tightly clutched to her chest covering her white uniform top that is neatly tucked into her grayish black uniform skirt. Her cell phone is somehow squeezed between her fingers ready for whatever calls or text may come. Her eyes are darting back and forth looking up and down the empty street across from the Nunghyup Bank. Her agitation increases with every passing second. The urges are beginning to overpower her, but they are wrong. She has been taught better. The training from her mother and grandmother for the past sixteen years will not be thrown away in a fleeting moment like this. She can’t do it, not now, not tonight. Her mother has already tucked her little brothers and sister into bed and is preparing rice for tomorrow morning. Her father, who just showered after another twelve-hour day on the road selling fruits across town, is trying to relax for a few minutes before crashing for the night without dinner again. They have worked hard to get her in to this hakwon, the best science, math and English academy in Cheonan. She cannot disrespect them like this; it would crush them if they ever found out.

Besides, how will she be able to go to Church on Sunday after such disregard for Korean tradition and values? NO! She will not do it! She lowers her head in shame at the very thought of even attempting to be so reckless.

And then as if she just figured out her clothes were on fire she raisers her head and starts running across the street. I can see her sheer delight at this moment of freedom at being like a real woman who is strong and able. Her eyes are wide-open and bright, cheeks flushed with vibrancy and arms lifted with each stride. She is halfway there ands realizes what she has done, almost comes to a complete stop, begins to lower her head again with a natural twitch but realizes she has come too far, she cannot go back now. She panics and hurriedly looks left and right, then forward and again darts across the street, exhilaration pours out of her like she is an American girl who is out drunk with her friends on a Friday night accepting free drinks from all the boys trying to attract her fancy knowing they will just flirt, tease and go home laughing together at their conquests. She reaches the other side of the road and freezes cold in her tracks. The momentary flash of freedom evaporates and becomes drenched in guilt, shame and humiliation. She wants to hold back the tears but is not able. She drops her cell phone for the first time and bends over to pick it up forgetting she is wearing a skirt and is supposed to lower herself properly like nice girls do. Her book bag slides out from her grasp and the books fall all over the black sidewalk, she is aware she will be noticed now for certain. Someone will tell her mother. There is no way she can now just walk in the door like nothing has happened. They will know even before she runs the final three blocks to their seventieth floor apartment in Highvill 2. She trembles as she gathers her things off the ground and stuffs her cell phone into the bag and takes off running even faster than she crossed the street towards home with tears streaming down her now pale cheeks. How could she be so careless and ungrateful to her family and bring such shame upon them? They did not raise her to be the kind of girl who crosses the street while the light is still red! Nice girls follow the rules even if there are no cars on the road at 11:20 at night. They obey and follow traditions no matter what. Crossing the street while the light was still red; who did she think she was and did she forget where she is and what country she lives in?

Me, I am shocked. I have lived here for ten months and waited patiently to see if during my thirteen months stay I would see one, just one young woman or girl cross on the red. Their moms do it, all teen boys do it and certainly all men do it without even thinking, but young women are trained well here. By well, I mean effectively.

It has been three weeks since I saw that girl cross the street on a red light. Every night when I am walking after dinner I think about her and how hard being obedient must be to those who need to dance and stretch their own limits. What pressure these young girls carry with them day and night to conform to traditions that are so old that there are nobody left to explain why they exist or where they came from. The answer is simple- “It is what we do”.

Michael = Dog?

Michael, Dog?

Anna is one of my favorite students. She is in second grade and just adorable and beats up most of the boys in our class as a bonus. She has black hair like everyone else here, brown eyes like everyone else here but hers are deeper, darker and rounder than most. Her full cheeks with that soft, silky Korean skin is just unavoidable for a quick, gentle caress every time I see her when she is done walking with me with her little hand inside mine. Anna is very affectionate and loves to be loved. Fortunately, I love loving her, so we get along well.

Today while waiting for her classmates to get to class, she was holding my hand, well actually my wrist and looking up at me with those wondrous eyes and dimpled smile. I was lost in her world when I noticed there was someone petting me, yes petting my forearm and I came back to earth and my classroom. It was Anna stroking and petting the hair on my arms. She again looked back up at me this time with wonder in her eyes and said in her best English, “Michael, dog?” and she pointed to my arm hair and then to my chest. Translation for the non-EFL teachers of the world: “Michael you have hair on your arms, are you a dog?”

I laughed half-heartedly and smiled at my precious little angel who somehow made calling me a dog sound sweet. Second graders can get away with stuff like that but adults get the Jersey/NYC stare when they venture into making comments of that sort.

I still get startled at the fact that most Koreans, both children and adults have never touched a human being with body hair or facial hair. It startles me. I grew up in an Italian family and amongst Italians, chest hair and facial hair are signs of virility. In fact, you are not really considered a man until you have chest hair. I faired well in that department. The other symbol of Italian manhood is not as easy to see, but we will leave that one alone for now. The idea that men can be men and not have hair on their chests, face and arms is beyond my mental capacity to understand. When I am lazy and do not shave, the next day almost every young one will come and rub my stubble. It occurs to me that they may have never felt a man’s facial hair as stiff as mine, another fact that baffles me and my social programming.

While on a roll about my social programming, bodies and cultural differences, I might as well dive into the women. Wait, that did not come out right. What I meant to say was I would like to explore the different bodies of Korean and Western women. OK, that didn’t work either but I think you get the point! I was here almost a month before I realized that the majority of females in Korea are not teenagers! Korean women have very slight frames and bones. It is of the highest importance for a woman in Korea to be skinny. I mean skinny, not thin or athletic. Typically, their bodies remind me of the standard American eighth grade girl in girth, bone structure, weight and size of butt and breasts. Even when pregnant, Korean women are less voluptuous then the American college girl on a diet. And I am speaking of American White girls, not Blacks or Latinas. Their butts are smaller then most pre-pubescent American girls, often with even skinnier legs. If thin is in, then Korean women are it but if curves are what shake your nerves, head east in a hurry! Again, I grew up around Italian women and the physical features that define her as a woman are her curves coming and going.

It has taken me a while to adjust my personal definitions of what is considered attractive, sexy and mature here in Korea. I am not sure I would ever adapt completely from the social and familial programming that is seated deep in this curious mind. But I am curious about what the skin feels like, I cannot lie. Koreans have the smoothest, silkiest skin on this planet. It almost doesn’t feel real. I have a friend in the states who is half Korean and I call her Silky Pants (she calls me Jerk Face for the record) and she warned about how the whole country has skin like hers. I did not believe her, I am a believer now. At times, I reflect on wanting to have a one-night stand or something similar just to touch, caress and lay next to such soft smooth skin. My Inner-Slut has a field day with these kinds of thoughts. But generally, return to my prudish ways and go about my business while trying not to gawk at an occasional woman that I cannot tell if she is twelve or twenty-eight- their bodies, faces, skin and clothes are almost identical. I blush when I realize they are a child and lower my head in shame.

The lessons and education continue for me here in Korea. I am starting to pay attention again to my surroundings knowing that my time here is limited. So the young ones will have to find another man to pet and call dog, and I will have to hold the hands of somebody else’s children with skin more course and a lot less bowing. In the mean time, Michael Dog will try to not smirk at the idea of being a man without chest and facial hairs and being a woman without curves. The programming is deep, like the center of an old Oak Tree. And like an Oak Tree, they don’t die easily.

Communal Bathing

Community Bathing

Naked
Bathing
Scrubbing
Shredding
Being
Seeing
Shedding
Cleansing
Together
Community
Peace
Respect
Safety
Knowing
History
Hands
Holding
Suds
Green
Hot
Tubs
Sweat
Dripping
Feet
Bare
All
Prone
Moan
Ground
Found
Dissolve
Dissipate
Remove
Renew
Re-you
Water
Salt
Pine
Wood
Steam
Breathe
Release
Men
One

Like a Korean Virgin

Like a Korean Virgin

I am sitting at my MacBook listening to the Buddhist Television Network in the background with volume at #1 about to dive into an area that baffles. Being baffled is not a new or unexpected state for me, just one that well, baffles me.

As I have begun to form friendships and relationships here in Korea, an added benefit is direct sources of information that I would not be able to access otherwise. This reflection comes from one of those opportunities. My ‘informant’, who will remain nameless for obvious reasons, has no reason to lie or distort the truth. She is trying to help me understand her culture as best she can. I am grateful for her trust, respect and willingness to aid me in my continual process of learning. These days, the ‘textbook’ I am studying is about male-female relationships, sex, gender roles, norms and expectations. I say ‘these days’ to make myself feel like it will someday be something different.

Today I had the pleasure of penetrating the topic of virginity and sexual activity in Korea. I was flat out bowled over by what seemed obvious to my informant but oblivious to me. I appreciate her patience in this department since it took several restating of questions and answers to make certain I heard, understood and swallowed the information correctly. I also need to add that any conversation that includes sex, virginity and prostitution as its main focal points will both maintain and distract me continuously.

“So, I have been thinking about what you said yesterday about the whole women leaving the door open or not be allowed in a man’s room or apartment thing. It really has caught my attention since it is so far removed from American culture and norms. My question is; if men and women are not allowed to be in a room together alone before marriage then do they not have sex?”

“No, they don’t.”

“They’re virgins till marriage?”

“Yes. Most Koreans do not have sex before marriage.”

“Both men and women?”

“Yes. But more women are virgins than men.”

“How is that possible? Don’t the men have sex with women to not be virgins?”

“You know how in Korea all men have to serve in the military?” I nod my head. “Their senior and junior officers take them to get sex for pay. It is a regular part of what happens when boys go to the military. Many say they have not done it but we all know they have.”

“So prostitution is how most boys lose the virginity?”

“Yes. It is very normal in Korea. Most girls do not have sex before marriage. If they get married and the girl has already had sex with a man, they will get separated immediately.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Most men will not marry a women who is not a virgin.”

“Really?” For a guy who talks as much as I do, my vocabulary as an English teacher was becoming very limited to just one word; Really? “It is like Muslim culture?”

“Michael, it is Korean culture.” I am beginning to find out that the answer to anything that Koreans feel insecure or embarrassed about is; “It is Korean culture”.

I was about to say ‘Really?’ one more time but thought about it and tried some new words. “So you are telling me that women that are between 25-35 years old and not married are virgins?”

“Yes. It is very normal in Korea.”

“And boys that do not have sex with a prostitute in the military are also virgins till marriage?”

“Yes but many of them lie about it.”

“What percentage of high school students has sex before college?”

“High school students having sex?” She is now the one who is sounding like I was speaking a foreign language(OK, so I am, but you know what I mean!) . It was like she did not understand the question or it was a quantum physics equation.

“Yes. In America, it is very common for high school students to have sex before they graduate high school. In fact, most of them have more sexual partners in high school than I have had in my whole life.”

“Really?” See what a good English teacher I am? In a matter of minutes I have Koreans mimicking my phrases like natives.

“Yes. It is one of the reasons me and some of my friends that work with youth for a living do not want to work in high schools any more. The girls are too aggressive and we get accused of things that didn’t even happen.”

“Do you lose your jobs if that happens? If a teacher or counselor has sex with a high school girl, who gets fired?”

“The man! He loses his job, never can work with youth again and usually goes to jail for many years, sometimes even twenty-five years.”

“Really?”

“Yes. In 1997 I was accused of trying to have sex with a high school girl that was in a program I used to coordinate and I almost was arrested and prosecuted and I never even touched her beyond the way I would touch any boy or girl.”

“Really? So you can’t be a counselor any more in America?”

“I can. There was a lot of support for me and things were sort-of resolved without any legal or professional consequences but I resigned from my job because all the girls thought I was some kind of a sexual molester and I knew I could not do my job effectively any more. It was more about rumors and gossip than legal or professional. Girls were afraid to be alone with me after that.”

“Did you ever talk with her about it?”

“Yes. She said she did it because she didn’t want to be on the camping trip any more and thought by accusing me of trying to have sex with her, we would go home. Unfortunately for her, that did not happen and I almost lost my freedom and went to jail. I asked her about three years later when hired by the University of Cincinnati to conduct research on the effectiveness of the program. She said she didn’t even remember the situation. It meant that little to her.”

“You are lucky michael.”

“It didn’t feel that way at the time though. So this doesn't happen here in Korea?”

“No.”

“Out of 100 kids in high school, how many have had sex?”

“They don’t.”

“Less than ten percent”

“Yes, maybe.”

“And of adult women, how many do you think are still virgins before marriage? More then fifty percent?”

“Yes.”

“More than seventy percent?”

“I do not know exactly but more are virgins than not.”

“So a couple together for several years not married would never have been alone with a door closed or had sex?”

“Yes it is very normal in Korea.”

“Is this true for Japan and China too?” I asked this as a way to validate her statements and just in case what I had heard was completely untrue.

“No, just Korea.” She laughs for the first time. I am not sure if it was because she thought it was funny or she felt uncomfortable.

“I didn’t think so but figured I would ask.”

At this point, we both had to go. I was experiencing many different emotions including confusion, bewilderment, surprise, disappointment, erotic thoughts about having sex with a gorgeous thirty year old Korean virgin and a pinch of anger. I was bothered by all this- what it says about Korean culture, American culture, men, women, social norms and programming, and just plain old judgmental thoughts in my head.

It is now past midnight and this has taken up a large chunk of my mental process the rest of the day today. I was looking forward for the opportunity to write about this to get it out and have a chance to process it. I do not think it has achieved what I had hoped for. I still feel confused, disturbed and turned on by the fantasies in my head of these hot, adult Korean women in high heels, very short skirts that are virgins, real virgins. It is not necessarily a healthy set of emotions but the ones that I am experiencing at the moment. Tomorrow that may change, maybe not.

I can’t help but wonder who is the oppressed culture; Korean or American? At first glance through American lens, it appears that the Koreans, especially women are the oppressed people in these cultural, sexual norms. But I am flinching to say that I am sold on that to be true. The idea of not having any sexual pressure or expectations seems somehow very liberating and freeing for both men and women. If you already know you are not going to have sex with someone before marriage, it really clears so many things up right then and there. What freedom we would experience to be able to love and learn about each other with sex not even a concern now or the immediate future. Not even a discussion topic, nothing, nada, zilch. A complete non-factor in a relationship. Friendship and companion really are why you are together, not just what we say to cover up what we may be truly experiencing inside but playing the waiting game to appear evolved.

Who are the oppressed and who are the free? The virgins or the double-digit sex partners?

Either way, my Korean education continues. As a side note, I am starting to learn some basic Hangeul and it feels good!

Not with the Door Open Young Man

I was having a conversation with a female Korean friend over lunch the yesterday. We shared some brown rice that I over steamed, Kuk (light soup) and several Panchan (side dishes). I thought this an excellent opportunity to dig into some social questions I had in my ‘whenever I get a chance’ section of the brain waiting for a willing informant on Korean culture. I was ready to seize the moment like the shark I can be at times.

But first we had some business to discuss. I was meeting a mutual person few know for language exchange later on that evening and needed to work out the details since she does translating via phone for us sometimes. Like most folks learning a foreign language, my exchange partner does better in person with understanding me where she can utilize facial expressions, energy, hand signals and lip reading to aid her comprehension of words and phrases. My friend asked, “Where do you want to meet her tonight, that same coffee shop you went to before you went to Malaysia again? You both liked it there.” We did, but caffeine at night is not something that is supportive of positive circadian rhythms for folks like me. So, with ignorance and naiveté as my guides I asked what I thought to be a reasonable question, “What about my apartment? I do not have a good table for us to work on but the floor would be fine.”

“No michael, she cannot do that.”

Wanting more information and an explanation, Curious George became my next guide into ignorance, “Why not?” Simple, direct and to the point.

“Michael, in Korean culture, a woman cannot be in a man’s apartment or room unless they are married or there is another woman present.”

Stunned and a little embarrassed, I proceeded with clarification to make certain I didn’t get things lost in translation, “You mean that you or her can never come to my place for dinner, to watch TV or drink tea without the other one present?” I was hopeful there was a communication problem.

“No. The only way is if we leave the door completely open so that your neighbors can see in.”

“You are kidding right?” Still hopeful but starting to fade.

“No, I am not kidding Michael! Korean women cannot go to a man’s room or he cannot come into ours until we are married.”

“So your boyfriend has never been to your room?” Reaching now, knowing they have been best friends for seven years and a couple for the last year.

“No.” I gulp and try not to let the Kimchi in my mouth choke me. I succeeded at that endeavor but am struggling to swallow with the deeper one.

“Really?” I had nothing else.

“Michael. We can’t be seen with a man on the floor of his room or on the couch without another woman present unless we leave the door open. People will think something is happening. And it is also for the girl’s safety too. Bad things happen to girls when they are left alone with guys with the door shut.” She hesitates reflectively, “Do women do this in America?”

I am able to answer without laughing at her, Koreans or American values and boundaries or the lack of them. I silently reflect on how many different women’s couches and assorted other sleeping arrangements I have been offered and accepted through The CouchSurfing Project in the last year. “Yes, all the time. It is very common now for men and women to even share apartments together as friends. We hang out together at each other’s places all the time and it is not a big thing for a guy or girl to just crash at the friend’s home if they are too tired to go home or something. It is very normal in America. I know that some married women will not be alone with a man that is not their husband down South but I think that is even becoming rare these days.”

“Really?” Her face looked like she just saw a ghost, maybe two.

“Is this about rumors and gossip?”

“Yes, a lot if it is about rumors and gossip. If people say the wrong things about a girl she may not be able to get married.” My turn to wear the ‘I just saw a ghost or two look’.

We finished lunch with more digestible topics like children, English, Hangeul and Kimchi. But is stuck with me all day! At night, after our language exchange session at the coffee shop, I asked my language partner who does not command the English language as well at this point about this conversation. It took nearly five tries to communicate the content enough for her to understand. Her reply put this whole thing to bed for me, errr, maybe not a good choice of words. “No Michael. A woman cannot do that Michael. I do not know why but it is never allowed.”

“So you or her will never be able to come to my place across the street from both of you and eat dinner or watch a movie with me and talk? Ever?”

“No Michael. I am sorry but we cannot do that. It is Korean culture. I do not know why but it is this way Michael.”

I shared with her the part of my earlier discussion about safety and gossip. “Yes, that must be why Michael.”

“This makes me sad.” I stopped there.

I am still sad a day later. Partially since I cannot hang out with my friends individually and I for the most part, do not like crowds larger than two people. That is the self-centered sadness. The greater ache is that of social norms that prevent love, friendship and relationships based on gossip and perceived or potential safety hazards. Have we not gotten past some of this yet? How can a college professor still not be able to keep male friendships and maintain her social and professional status? AAAHHHHHHH!

I am sad, very sad. I was happier standing in my cultural bliss of ignorance less than thirty-six hours ago.

Who are these women and what are they doing on my TV screen?

Who are these women and why are they on my TV screen?

I have been putting off writing this piece for almost six months now. Wow has it really been six months since I landed here in Korea? Almost.

I have struggled with observing the way Korean TV portrays women in commercials. They remind me of the stuff that was on TV in the states in the fifties and early sixties when women were dressed in expensive, perfect clothes to vacuum their living rooms with the hair perfectly set in a bun, make-up that most models would drool over and smiling from ear to ear like they are being romanced by Antonio Banderas AND Sean Connery on a solo vacation in Madrid. They all have that glazed over I love being a dutiful housewife look. It just grosses me out sometimes. I kept thinking at some point I would find some kind of acceptance or something but I have become even more intolerant as time has gone by. I didn’t want to write this from such a judgmental, insensitive perspective but tonight it ached to see a woman smiling in her perfectly clean soft white cotton dress, skin without a blemish, hair that does not move, smiling orgasmically at the exterminator killing the cockroaches behind the fridgerator while her two angelic children stand on each side of her with arms around each either. Eeeeeeww! Somehow I found the cockroaches more acceptable than the woman herself. Who would want to marry such a woman?

This is the standard portrayal of the Korean woman on TV commercials; The Stepford Wives meet Kim Eun Cheong (not a real name). They have other life or aspirations but a clean house, cute children, happy husband and a perfect smile that has no color or expression of Self. They live a martyr’s life in their kitchen and laundry room dressed in their white cotton and silk dresses that appear to have never been breathed on precious to that moment. Men are rarely present in TV commercials, it is strange their lack of visibility. Was June Cleaver even this perfect? At least Carol Brady had a housekeeper when looking like she had never touched a dish, mud stain or a child’s vomit. We could count on Olivia Walton to be dirty, you know live up there on Blue Ridge Mountain with all that survival stuff going on before they went to bed at night with their absurd goodnight ritual:
“Ben: Goodnight Mama.
Olivia: Goodnight Ben. Goodnight Jim Bob.
Jim Bob: 'Night Mama, 'night Erin.
Erin: 'Night Jim Bob, 'night Grandpa.
Grandpa: 'Night Erin, goodnight Jason.
Jason: Goodnight Grandpa, goodnight Daddy.
John: Goodnight Jason, goodnight Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: Goodnight Daddy. Goodnight John-Boy.
John-Boy is standing outside listening to the voices. He answers quietly: Goodnight everybody, - I love you.”

The thing that irks me the most about these commercials is the fact that for the most part, Korean moms are simple, grounded and wonderfully imperfect people. It is what I like most about them; they are regular folks who do their best dressed in clothes that make sense for the tasks of their day. They bare no resemblance to these women who have a post-sex contentment over their Hauzen washer’s tiny bubbles filling their home to the ceiling with bubbles. It would make more sense in the states where moms often wear make-up, fix their hair and change their clothes five times a day to look good for the other mother's who live down the street and pick up their children after soccer practice but this is Korea and moms really are not like that here.

Why does this still exist in 2009?
Who buys into this crap?

I only have thing left to say:
“Good night Jim Bob.”

Two Old Friends

Earlier today while waiting for the Orange #3 line subway to downtown Seoul, I observed something that has stayed with me all day.

A gentleman of at least sixty-five years of age was patiently, relaxing seated on a slatted wooden bench next to two women far enough away to probably not be traveling together. He had that soft comfortable face that demonstrates successful life; one that has obtained success economically, socially and lovingly. His eyes were focused in a non-focused manner. He looked like he could sit there all day in his off-white cotton pants and white shirt with thin stripes were those of a man who can buy anything but doesn’t need to impress anyone any more.

All of a sudden, his expression changed to elation with his brown eyes wide, cheeks full and warm smile exuding joy. He immediately stood up as he sees a friend walking towards him. They both looked so happy and surprised to see each other. I didn’t need to speak the language or understand HanGul to recognize that.

His friend was dressed similarly with thicker stripes on his shirt and slightly darker pants. They both looked like what happens when life works.

The thin striped man gestured for his friend to sit next to him on the bench. The energy and exchanges of words, smiles and warmth filled me up, as it did even more so to both of them beaming for all to see in Suseo station. They mad me want to be old, to have experienced enough peaks and valleys to know they are neither peaks nor valleys, and just keep on walking.

It provides such hope to me to witness men sharing these kinds of moments together. The moments were extended when it turned out they were both going to the same place, or just decided to after talking. I sat next to them to continue to soak up the appreciation of these two old friends that bumped into each other while waiting for the Orange #3 line going towards Dahwia. I didn’t go that far. I followed the advice of everyone I spoke to that said I should go to Itaewon, “Where all the foreigners are”. My gut told me that foreigners meant white tourists shopping and looking for American culture in the heart of Seoul, South Korea. My suspicion was correct, they were all buying Puma, Nike, Louis Vetonne and Levis all the way in Seoul, instead of their local mall. I wished I had listened to my gut and avoided Itaewon altogether and sat next to the two old men and landed wherever they landed.

The richness of their eye contact, soft cheeks, warm words, voice tomes and energy is still with me eight hours later on that same orange #3 line headed back to the suburbs of Bandung. These memories have made this ride almost as enjoyable as the one sitting next to the two old friends riding the orange #3 this afternoon.