One of the reasons I moved to Korea, was to challenge myself to learn. Learn more about the world and the huge variety of people who live in it.
This is what I know now, but when I first arrived here, I don't think I had any idea what I was doing here, or for that matter, why I was here.
I left NZ feeling like I was clever. Wow, I am off to Korea with no information (past what I had managed to pick up from the four books I had found in the library) , no real understanding and no real idea of what I was letting myself in for. I should have realized this was not clever. Writing this down right now, it smacks of not clever. But in the interests of not knowing then what I know now, I am opting for naive. I was clueless. But luckily, like the ambassador of love and humanity that I am, I wanted to learn and know more. So like a little sponge, I started to absorb Korea.
This absorption process has been quite fascinating. As a sponge I have been willing to take in as much as I can, but there has had to be necessary rejections too as I reach saturation point.
Korean style, fashion, use of accessories - what I like to call the cutesy-fun stuff - I am somewhat embarrassed to report, has been well and truly absorbed and continues to capture my attention. I am trying to put limits on my on-going interest in this aspect of Korea. Shopping should not be something that I refer to as either a hobby or one of my favourite interests. Efforts are being made to re-channel this lusty appetite for sparkly cute items with no real value.
Crowd operation mentality. The ability to imagine you are the only one in a world where there are quite clearly, many. The astounding capacity to render every other human being around you invisible - which may indeed mean people actually walk into other people like they are not there. To be single-minded in your goal or destination, with dis-regard (what I marvel at) for any other, creating a world where, charmingly, only you exist.
This, I have yet to be completely sponge-ok on.
I have tried - and yes, there has been remarkable improvement. I now push (a little) when I need to get to the exit on the bus. (I didn't do this at first, and consequently had a lot of bus rides where I was stuck on the bus, forlornly watching the stop I needed to get off at through the back window as we drove away...) I also hold my ground in the public bathrooms, sometimes parking myself so close to my chosen cubicle door it makes things a little uncomfortable when the surprised occupant exits. I also don't mind so much all the touching and bumping and pushing of my body and my personal space. I have spongefied and adjusted to these things.
What I am still having some difficulties with, is being invisible.
I believe I exist, yet to the general population of Seoul, I don't.
This still causes me to have to stop sometimes, take a deep breath, steadying myself from wanting to kick, or even shove very hard, the person who has just walked right into me and continued on their way like I was - gasp - not even there.
This is not just about being shoved and pushed - difficult to understand, but I am improving in this area - no, this is about a deeper issue. The issue of my own existence - which I feel is constantly undermined! I exist!! I do!! It can be exhausting work though, when you constantly have to re-affirm this fact.
Gorgeous Korean men. Check. Have totally sponged up this idea. This one was not hard at all. Got off the plane, saw one of the security guards (now I know he wasn't even a great specimen of fantastic man-candy) and was in love. I was not aware I had arrived in a kind of beautiful people paradise. And yet, yes - everywhere I went, beautiful men and women abounded. Amazing! I could totally adapt and soak up this idea.
Unfortunately, as time has gone on, and (if you read my earlier post re. the marriage question) I am still finding the same err...younger men attractive (and lets just clarify, these are still men - they just may still be in their, say 20s as opposed to my slightly more mature...30s) whereas I seem to attract attention from the more debonaire (or should I say dodgey) ahjosshi crowd.
I have not sponged up this attention very enthusiastically. For the most part though, it's pretty innocent. The odd leering gaze, drunken staring or attempts to strike up conversation. The next level seems to be the staring coupled with the question many women of European descent seem to get "Are you from Russia? Russian girl?" which at first I just took to mean, he was interested in my place of birth, and just happened to place it at the opposite end of the earth from where I really had come into existence (see I do exist!!). After hearing this a few times, I came to understand - through various sources - that nooooo, the ahjosshi was not so much interested in my lovely homeland, as enquiring whether I was part of the sex industry (which many Russian women, often not so willingly, are involved in) and he was propositioning me. Shock, horror!!
Everyday I am learning. This is just some of it. And what I love about being here, is whether I agree or not, feel threatened or comfortable, wonder or ignore, interact or withdraw - Korea offers me something new and challenges my world view - the view that up until I came here was all I knew. I like having to accomodate, to absorb, to sponge up the idea that I am very much a part of a huge crowd of human beings who live on this earth.
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I agree there's a weird sort of visibility/invisibility flux that goes on here in my Seoul life. I think when I first arrived I was highly conscious of being visible as different, though I'm not sure how much of that was just a product of my own self-consciousness and paranoia and not really others noticing me. The space contraints made me more conscious of my body and others' bodies. And the different types of body language and ornamentation were fascinating to me.
I had never lived in a city before, so making others invisible was something that I had difficulty with but learned to do over time as a way to cope with all the stimulation, but the ability comes and goes rather erratically.
P.S. I think you sound rather clever.
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