Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years: Version 2.0!

Friday, February 18, 2011

Native Daughter

I've been stewing about how the landlord's father went on about the 'quality' people who will be moving into our place once we vacate.

Prefacing what comes next with 'I love Korea.  I married into the tribe.  I encourage my girls to embrace everything that makes them who they are.  I have some Korean masks on my wall." seems trite.

Despite everything, I still get that shit spewed from the dad from time to time.  I avoid most of it by listening to the words of a wise man I once knew: the best way to avoid dealing with the idiocy on the streets in Korea is to isolate yourself economically.  Avoid public transit, don't do work that puts you out there dealing with idiots on a regular basis, keep your head down.

Smart, that man.  Too bad he died.  I sure could use his advice sometimes when things get hairy. We shouldn't mention how he was killed following his own advice on the first one.

If you hear the same thing over and over again, you start believing it.  If your interactions are always generating the same result, or are limited to a simple set, you start to think crazy things about an entire people in general.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, good on you.  If you want to stay that way, don't read too much of popular gusts in my sidebar, stay away from Dave's ESL, and don't read Korean newspapers.  Ignorance can be bliss.

If you think I'm full of shit, go back to LA.  If you think I'm too melancholy, good for you to be in a place where those thoughts don't enter your head. 

This is one of the reasons why I stopped with the papers:  I started to embrace the stereotype, and that won't help my girls.  It is a serious battle sometimes.  I still read popular gusts from time to time to remind myself what I'm working against and why I need to stay positive.

What I worry about is that my children may end up getting too much a dose of this.  I want them to know everything of what they are, and I suppose they do need to see some of the nastiness from both sides.  But making sure they are good with themselves, with me and their mom, is going to require some tightrope dancing that in many instances will go against what I want to do with my life: challenge.

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