Greater Value Than Money

As an American that grew up thirty miles from NYC, money has always had high importance in my life. Both my parents were children during the great Depression and never quite accepted times of affluence or at least economic comfort in their lives. I inherited their fears and sense of scarcity in general but more specifically, food and money. I was raised to be financial successful as a means of measuring my manhood since money is the currency that acquires women, the ultimate prize and stature of a man. The value of money and the women attached to its attainment were al I was groomed for as a young man. It took forty-seven years and a seven thousand mile airplane flight for me to see there is actually something of greater value than money. A good umbrella.

It rains often and heavy here in South Korea. There are times it is a complete downpour for hours and hours. There has only been one day since I have arrived that at least a quarter of the day wasn’t raining hard. I have never been an umbrella kind of guy. I was the tough it out like a man sort of rain dweller. That has changed. I have a good umbrella by my side whenever I set foot outside the apartment building I live in. I can hear the pitter patter of the raindrops on the roof as I write this. It is soothing and disruptive at the same time. The noise feels very comforting to me as if a gentle reminder that nature is nature. This kind of voice whispering to me, “You are not in charge or control and never will be.” is such a relief to me. The force of the downfalls can be unsettling in the exact same way, a reminder that nature is nature and will do as he pleases when she pleases to whatever extent she pleases. I tried to be cool my first couple of days walking about without and umbrella but after totally soaking my purple t-shirt to the point where it became heavy to wear, I accepted I am not bigger nor bolder than nature herself. I humbly spent 12,000 Won to purchase a nice strong but simple plaid green, black and red umbrella that I have only left behind at one restaurant and my classroom at school twice so far. As with many other adjustments, like putting on the air conditioner for a few hours so my clothes will dry before I go to work on Monday, I am have learned why and what value a good umbrella is here on the peninsula of South Korea.

A White Guy with Blue Eyes and Long Brown Hair

An amazing mural painted on the front of a camel colored building with soft stucco exterior. The warm blue sky, the gentle desert sand of the earth, animals peacefully grazing and roaming and then there ion the middle of downtown Cheonan is a white guy with blue eyes and long brown hair holding a staff. On top of the building in central Korea is a pointed structure also of camel color stucco where sits a large neon red Cross on top for all to see. What is this white guy with blue eyes and long brown hair doing next to the small take-out with white noodle soups of tomato, garlic and fresh seafood across from the restaurant where customers take off their shoes upon entering and sitting on the floor in slippers with their legs crossed while dining?

How did he get white here in the land of yellow and light brown? How did a man for the Middle East acquire pale skin and blue eyes to begin with? I am not a historian but were white people with blue eyes in existence yet?

Hearing the unmistakable flat, monotoned hymns in any language could only be that composed by white Protestant here in a city of almost a half million with probably les than fifty non-Asians while in meditation this morning made my heart sink. The ache if oppression and imperialism pierced through y veins and poisoned my blood.

Just like the day when I realized WHY Black Americans are so attached to Christianity and the Church. And why so many Muslim Americans have to take low-skill, low-income jobs that allow them the opportunity to honor their spiritual commitment of regular Prayer throughout the day. As the Jews that had to close their family business when malls and shopping centers made Saturday, the Seventh Day, a shopping day and they had to decide between God of the Bible that says, “You will keep the Seventh day Holy” or go out of business. Finally, the irony of Catholic missionaries brainwashing Africans into believing their idols of Crosses, Jesus and Mary would “save” them and the idols they worshipped happily and peacefully for thousands of years would send them to hell. This ache I know well, I fell it in my belly and I cringe.

I wonder how many people have taken the time to learn any of the languages of the Bible in Hebrew or any Aramaic language to receive the Teachings before white Kings, Queens, Czars and Emperors reframed them to meet their personal needs for power and domination? I wonder if the white guy with blue eyes and long brown hair laughs or cries when He hears us “quote the Gospel” according to King James and NIV? My money is on tears and many of them but possibly laughter while witnessing us use His Love, Healing and Teachings for everything that is not Love, Healing and Teaching amusing Himself “Funny white people, they just don’t get it.” He may question Himself, “Don’t they know back then the language didn’t have vowels in writing till modern day and that was to keep the Teachings fresh and not allow them stagnation.”

And in the beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth”, could have been written as follows, “In the beginning, and God is creating Heaven and Earth?’ just as easily. Why do they keep quoting only one possibility?” “If they are going to quote me all the time, you would think it would be important enough for them to learn my language to make sure they are actually quoting me!” This puts a whole new spin on the whole Seven Days, especially since Christians celebrate the Sabbath on the first day, not the seventh day, like the Bible says.

Which commandment in the Bible directs us to rape, pillage, loot, oppress, brainwash, own and take over people as a “mission”?

Oh my dear Friend, The White Guy with Blue Eyes and Long Brown Hair, what have we done to You?
Your Love and Your Teachings?
How did we move from, “the Meek shall inherit the Earth” to the arrogant shall rule it?

What have we done to You my Friend, what have we done?

July 20, 2008- Cheonan, Choongchung-namdo, South Korea

Martian or Rock Star?

He walks down the street and everybody stares. Not the stare they give the homeless guy or the woman dressed soliciting attention; this is a stare that stops people in their path. They look, hold their children’s hands who start to run towards him to get a closer look. Small children hide behind their mothers for safety but curiously peek around the back of her legs to explore while shielded by her body. Teenagers point and giggle in their formal uniforms of grey and white from school even as late as 9:30 at night. One little child walked up and rubbed his hairy arms just to see what an arm “like that” felt like disappointed that it felt like a regular arm. Yes, these are my first days on the streets in downtown Cheonan, South Korea.

When eating lunch in the cafeteria of the school I teach English at, students trip and drop their trays startled by the sight of a foreigner. Groups of youth all over the neighborhood see me walking by and all yell out “Hello!” and laugh hysterically. I wonder if this is what it was like for another Michael with the last name Jackson when at the peek pf his popularity; received a strange mix of celebrity status including: curiosity and circus clown. Personally, I think I resemble the latter the most closely but what do I know, I am the foreigner walking the streets without police protection or escort. It is possible after two days of not shaving, I may have more facial hair than this city of nearly a half million residents. It is possible that my short dark hair may have more natural wave to it than this city of nearly a half million residents. It is probable that I have more hair on my light brown arms than the entire city of nearly a half million residents. It is a fact that I came here to become somewhat anonymous and end up drawing more attention than any single person walking down the street casually and certainly more than I have at any time in my life.

All the kids want to play with and say “Hello” to Michael, the foreigner. In my short time here that has included many miles of walking and roaming the streets, I have seen one other non-Asian in public and have seen another white person through the window across from my efficiency apartment. Two non-Asians among several thousand native Koreans, Japanese and Chinese. Growing up outside NYC where every nation in the world that has access to an airplane has representatives wandering the streets, seeing so many folks of similar hair, eyes, and skin color with fashion that to my untrained eyes lacks much diversity is quite an eye-opener, literally. Due to my lack of distance vision, I have learned how to distinguish people in life through discerning hair, eye and skin color that has no value here. They ALL know who I am. I think I could walk around without clothes on and draw less attention, as long as naked I resemble the residents more closely.

It feels awkward to be stared at so frequently and unabashed. Anyone who knows me is aware I desire attention, but it is only attention on my terms that fills that need for me. I do not accept attention that I did not facilitate very gracefully. Seeing several thousand people a day and predominantly being stared at by most of them has stirred my sense of public comfort. I am aware of what I wear, how I eat, what I purchase at the grocery store, bowing and how I say,” Annyoeng-haseyo” the greeting equivalent of Good morning/afternoon/evening. Most of all, I am extremely mindful of not confirming their assumption that all Americans are rude, disrespectful and arrogant, I am still working on the third one. I eat very slowly and carefully in public with the metal chopsticks that Koreans use. I do not want to use the wrong utensils for the wrong foods. It is expected that one uses the spoon for soups, stews and rice, and chopsticks for everything else. I used my chopsticks to eat rice the first week here and was corrected yesterday with a look of disapproval. I am still learning what, how and when to bow and how low for each person. There are guidelines that are not always real clear. I love bowing. It feels so good to me. I feel such connection and heritage when doing so. I feel respected, acknowledged and honored every time. I believe i will have a hard time returning to a world without bowing when and if I choose to do so. I dress more conservative than I typically do and maybe even a little more like an adult than I have in recent years. I notice if I am buying only western style food at the grocery store and quickly grab something native that I have no idea what it is since I cannot read the labels but know I will like it anyway. Although I doubt I will replace cereal as my standard breakfast food before work in the morning. Seeing Post brand cereals in Korean with flavors I never saw before I also find amusing.

Side note: I can no longer imagine a world that does not include Kinchi on a daily basis after only ten days.

Being treated as a rock star where everybody wants you to walk through the door first because “he” is here among us I hope will wear off soon. Again, I came partially to shed some old patterns of attention-seeking and stroking of the ego. Ironic no? Fortunately, clerks in the both the local grocery stores I shop at treat me fairly rudely since I can’t read the writing on the scales to print out labels in advance of purchasing produce, it is good to be reminded that I am not larger than life or even equal to them.

It is funny how the Universe works; anonymity and humility were two of my primary motivations for living in a land where my methods of navigating through life would be ineffective and altered. Here I am the most noticed person everywhere I go- good, bad or indifferent- part Martian, part Rock Star.