Another weekend, another round of random adventures in Seoul, with random musings, random meet-ups, and random places....senses overflows with brand-new knowledge, no matter how trivial, and the body overflows with more and more alcohol under random conditions leading to random consequences. For just another foreigner living in the massive metropolis, no experience is really off-limits and no activity really deserves to be set aside as off-limits for any reason.
But increasingly, as a foreigner living in a foreign country, not just here in Korea but Japan and pretty soon in the future, England, I am increasingly an inner split between two different kinds of foreignness, battling inside of me for supremacy in every situation I get into. As an Asian-American, the side of me that exemplifies the “Asian” natures of humbleness and respect for authority clashes with the “Western” natures of individuality and spontaneity at every opportunity I get.
Without a doubt, these are the clashes of pure stereotypes, but they are all the stereotypes I must somehow display openly to those I meet in order to be socially accepted. The ultimate goal: to be same enough so that I can communicate with others freely on the common ground, yet to be different enough so that I still stand out somehow to be noticed as “different” by the locals and be liked for those particular differences.
In Japan, balancing the two sides was quite easy. Because I do speak Japanese, I was able to at least somewhat connect with the locals on a common cultural premise. That assumption of cultural similarity allowed me to free up my mind for pushing ahead with “Western foreignness,” using every opportunity to emphasize just how many different characteristics I can come up with as someone who grew up on the other side of the world.
Yet here in Korea, the basic assumption of anybody whom I talk to is that I am a Westerner with an Asian face, not to be considered someone able to be culturally communicated with certain basic Korean values. Such an assumption, of course, is one that prevents effective interaction with any pure locals here, further exacerbated by a complete lack of understanding for the local language and some customs.
I am not satisfied with that status quo, however. I do want to connect with the locals, at least superficially, just as I have in Japan. Thus, the “Asian foreignness,” emphasizing cultural similarity with the locals by insisting cultural similarity with China and Japan, must be fully displayed before any sort of “Western values” are to be thrown in. It has been extremely difficult with I can only communicate in a purely Western language called English.
I do, though, want to, and need to, display that double-sided “foreignness.” When I went to a foreign beer festival in the foreign neighborhood of Itaewon yesterday, I realized all the sudden just how much I hated the excessive concentrated presence of completely Western foreigners there. In fact, I hate to say it, but I really sort of felt superior to those people there because I know, with my Asian face and 13 years of living in Asia, I can connect with the locals more than those guys ever can. I just had to find the correct way to do so.
I just need to observe more, and imitate more, how local Koreans behave and what sort of values they hold dear. I know, by spending more and more time with locals, I can easily pinpoint the same values I have as the core of my “Asian foreignness.” Especially under the influence of alcohol, when social inhibitions disappears, Koreans will drop their carefully crafted “cultural façade” to connect with foreigners and go back to being the pure Koreans they really are. Imitating all that, I feel, is my primary task for becoming a foreigner truly acceptable by the locals.
But increasingly, as a foreigner living in a foreign country, not just here in Korea but Japan and pretty soon in the future, England, I am increasingly an inner split between two different kinds of foreignness, battling inside of me for supremacy in every situation I get into. As an Asian-American, the side of me that exemplifies the “Asian” natures of humbleness and respect for authority clashes with the “Western” natures of individuality and spontaneity at every opportunity I get.
Without a doubt, these are the clashes of pure stereotypes, but they are all the stereotypes I must somehow display openly to those I meet in order to be socially accepted. The ultimate goal: to be same enough so that I can communicate with others freely on the common ground, yet to be different enough so that I still stand out somehow to be noticed as “different” by the locals and be liked for those particular differences.
In Japan, balancing the two sides was quite easy. Because I do speak Japanese, I was able to at least somewhat connect with the locals on a common cultural premise. That assumption of cultural similarity allowed me to free up my mind for pushing ahead with “Western foreignness,” using every opportunity to emphasize just how many different characteristics I can come up with as someone who grew up on the other side of the world.
Yet here in Korea, the basic assumption of anybody whom I talk to is that I am a Westerner with an Asian face, not to be considered someone able to be culturally communicated with certain basic Korean values. Such an assumption, of course, is one that prevents effective interaction with any pure locals here, further exacerbated by a complete lack of understanding for the local language and some customs.
I am not satisfied with that status quo, however. I do want to connect with the locals, at least superficially, just as I have in Japan. Thus, the “Asian foreignness,” emphasizing cultural similarity with the locals by insisting cultural similarity with China and Japan, must be fully displayed before any sort of “Western values” are to be thrown in. It has been extremely difficult with I can only communicate in a purely Western language called English.
I do, though, want to, and need to, display that double-sided “foreignness.” When I went to a foreign beer festival in the foreign neighborhood of Itaewon yesterday, I realized all the sudden just how much I hated the excessive concentrated presence of completely Western foreigners there. In fact, I hate to say it, but I really sort of felt superior to those people there because I know, with my Asian face and 13 years of living in Asia, I can connect with the locals more than those guys ever can. I just had to find the correct way to do so.
I just need to observe more, and imitate more, how local Koreans behave and what sort of values they hold dear. I know, by spending more and more time with locals, I can easily pinpoint the same values I have as the core of my “Asian foreignness.” Especially under the influence of alcohol, when social inhibitions disappears, Koreans will drop their carefully crafted “cultural façade” to connect with foreigners and go back to being the pure Koreans they really are. Imitating all that, I feel, is my primary task for becoming a foreigner truly acceptable by the locals.
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