South Korea: the niftiest place on Earth
(Spoof editorial)
It was with great interest that I read Dana Stewart’s letter “No need to apologize to ‘soft, egocentric Westerners’” in last week’s Peak, in which he claims he and his wife had the time of their lives in Korea, in spite of the fact they were under a constant barrage of larceny, sexual harassment and death threats from their employers. I would like to say that Mr. Stewart’s experience in Korea was nowhere near as dangerous—and fun—as it could have been if he had only had a better attitude.
My year in Korea was interesting from day one. I got off the plane in Seoul to be greeted by a smiling chauffeur holding a sign with my name on it. When I identified myself, the smile faded from his face. He pulled a gun on me, and after a brief but informative pistol-whipping he forced me to drive him to my school dormitory at gunpoint. He handcuffed me and left me hanging by my wrists from a large metal ring which was fixed in the ceiling of a bare concrete room. Excited about my introduction to the customs of another land, I happily went to sleep after my shoulders dislocated.
In the morning I was awakened by a freezing blast of water from an ornamental fire hose I was to learn had great cultural significance to the Korean people. It was the principal greeting me on my first day of work. I was then dragged by a team of horses to my classroom, issued the requisite list of traditional Korean death threats, and put to work.
My life as an English teacher quickly fell into a comfortable routine. The principal spent all of my pay on tchotchkes, which he frequently brandished at me as if to say, “Ha, ha, you soft-buttocked Westerner, I’m spending all of your pay on tchotchkes.” My co-workers pelted me with refuse. The kids bit. There was a large suited man wearing dark glasses stationed in the back of the class who watched my very move. His orders were strict. Every time I spoke to the children in English, I was to be beaten. Every day my lunch was a small bowl of gruel-coated glass shards and a cup of strychnine that was almost invariably laced with arsenic. And at the end of the day, if I was lucky, I was stripped and whipped in front of the school assembly.
But don’t get me wrong, I’m no Western loser. I kept my sense of humour and kept my chin up. Then my chin was stolen. But so what? I no longer had any need for Western luxury. I was having the time of my life in Korea! Then my watch was stolen, after which I could no longer keep track of the time of my life I was having in Korea. But soon I learned to tell time from the intensity of the almost constant beatings, so after a while I hardly missed my watch, that pudgy, pasty-faced and self-indulgent Western chronometric conceit.
In closing, I must insist that Korea is a great place to work for any Westerner with the chutzpah that Mr. Stewart and I share. When my time in Korea was done, I had many wonderful memories to reflect upon during the long swim home. •
Originally published in The Peak, June 15 1998. If you want the full background to this piece—which really isn’t necessary, I assure you—read Peak article Teaching English overseas proves disastrous for SFU student, then reply letters “It’s the economy, not Korea” and “No need to apologize to ‘soft, ecocentric Westerners’”.
♦ ♦ ♦