Last night I was on a line 4 train (the light blue line). I was at the end of a row with my right side pressed up against the end of the bench, which is really the best place to sit since it leaves my left hand free for iPod operations.
At one stop a whole group of people exited the train and left the bench directly across from unoccupied. The man seated immediately to my left got up and moved so he was now seated facing me. The place where I was seated also had plenty of free spaces. If he felt crowded he could easily have scooted over a little. I assumed he moved because he didn't want to sit next to the foreigner, and took immediate offense. Now, it must be said that I have no basis for that conclusion other than the fact that I am a foreigner, and he moved. Nevertheless, that's where I went.
A few moments later I detected some movement from his direction in my peripheral vision. I glanced up and caught him trying to stealthily snap my picture with his camera phone. When I saw him he quickly snapped his phone shut and looked at me sheepishly, like he'd been caught doing something he knew he shouldn't.
I was incensed.
All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind about confronting the man, really telling him off, never mind the fact he probably wouldn't understand a word I said. But then, I remembered how once on a Portland city bus I had seen a woman go off on a total stranger whom she accused of spying on her. Whether justified or not, causing scenes on public transportation is generally not a sign of good mental health.
In the end, I did nothing, which was the right choice. Still, the incident brings up two larger issues. One is that my imminent psychotic break might be getting closer. The other is that Koreans treat me like something less than human. It happens everyday. The subway paparazzo is just the latest example. I could give plenty of specific examples, but to avoid the appearance of victimizing myself, I'm going to refrain from it.
Western style is to kind of look out for other people, even total strangers. You know, hold doors open and stuff like that. The Korean way is to look out for yourself and not worry about other people except for your family and friends. I get that. I'm ok with that. I can adapt to going about life fending for myself. But in Korea I find people doing things to actively dehumanize me.
Call me ethno-centric, but I'm not ok with that.
At one stop a whole group of people exited the train and left the bench directly across from unoccupied. The man seated immediately to my left got up and moved so he was now seated facing me. The place where I was seated also had plenty of free spaces. If he felt crowded he could easily have scooted over a little. I assumed he moved because he didn't want to sit next to the foreigner, and took immediate offense. Now, it must be said that I have no basis for that conclusion other than the fact that I am a foreigner, and he moved. Nevertheless, that's where I went.
A few moments later I detected some movement from his direction in my peripheral vision. I glanced up and caught him trying to stealthily snap my picture with his camera phone. When I saw him he quickly snapped his phone shut and looked at me sheepishly, like he'd been caught doing something he knew he shouldn't.
I was incensed.
All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind about confronting the man, really telling him off, never mind the fact he probably wouldn't understand a word I said. But then, I remembered how once on a Portland city bus I had seen a woman go off on a total stranger whom she accused of spying on her. Whether justified or not, causing scenes on public transportation is generally not a sign of good mental health.
In the end, I did nothing, which was the right choice. Still, the incident brings up two larger issues. One is that my imminent psychotic break might be getting closer. The other is that Koreans treat me like something less than human. It happens everyday. The subway paparazzo is just the latest example. I could give plenty of specific examples, but to avoid the appearance of victimizing myself, I'm going to refrain from it.
Western style is to kind of look out for other people, even total strangers. You know, hold doors open and stuff like that. The Korean way is to look out for yourself and not worry about other people except for your family and friends. I get that. I'm ok with that. I can adapt to going about life fending for myself. But in Korea I find people doing things to actively dehumanize me.
Call me ethno-centric, but I'm not ok with that.
Labels: life in Korea
Just wanted to let you know I've been reading your most recent postings and they've resonated with me. I had a mildly weird -- mildly -- couple of weeks -- not quite a slump, but some slumpishness to be sure -- and your most recent post took me right back to Korea. We should talk soon.