Don't talk s**t about my Korea

I realized lately that I don't like it when other people badmouth Korea. And by other people, I mean people who haven't lived here. Even though, in most cases, those people are just being supportive of my whining. It's a weird thing. It's like complaining about a sibling or a parent ... and when a friend says something like "yeah, your brother is a total jerk", it gets your back up. Of course you can badmouth your siblings 'til you croak, but if anyone else does it, they're on dangerous ground. The hackles come up, the mouth becomes firm and resolute, and a deluge of defense comes pouring out. That's how I feel about my Korea. And by "my Korea", I mean the version of Korea I have experienced in this short year.

I've had my troubles with Korea, for certain, and I've got my complaints, but in some things, on some topics, I feel a strong sisterly kind of love for this country. There are things I could whinge about all day long: stinky foods, sewage smells, not enough air conditioning or heat in the school, depending on the season, industry all over the place, a disrespect for natural resources, etc. But I could just as easily defend every last one of those.

Stinky food: yeah, it stinks, but most of it tastes pretty good; and the reason it (kimchi, to name one) stinks is because it has been preserved and the reason it has been preserved and pickled and fermented is because for a long time, this country had to make due with what they had and they had to stretch a harvest out through the whole year. In other words, if you can't have it fresh, then you've got to have it some way. And stinky and fermented happens to be this country's way.

Sewage smells: ok, this one does suck, but what can you do? Korea has old pipes. Suck it up.

Air conditioning and heat: Yes, it's a shock to the system when you realize that no, the school is not turning on the air conditioning until July, despite the 90 degree temperature read. And it's an even bigger shock when, in the dead of winter, you find that you can see your breath in the bathrooms and hallways, and that the classrooms and offices are only slightly warmer. Full winter gear--gloves, hats, down-filled jackets, boots--is the norm for teacher-wear. As weird as it might be to teach a class full of students in your floor-length jacket, that's what's happening. So, yes, it's annoying to say the least, and often difficult to just suck it up and get your work done (especially when you can't feel your feet), but it's also something else. It is, in fact, nicer to the environment. And it tests my limits--what I can handle in the face of being a little cold or a little hot. It's uncomfortable for sure, but guess what? I didn't die, and I still did my work. And I (inadvertently and perhaps begrudgingly) helped out the environment in the bargain. And whether the Office of Education's reasons for not turning on the heat or air conditioning is less than altruistic and more to do with money is not really the point. Bottom line: good is being done by not flipping the switch whenever we feel like it.

Industry and natural resources: It's true, there are buildings going up all over the place, and dammed, dried up rivers snaking through the country, and denuded hills that look pillaged and foraged to the brink, and bridges stopped in mid-build because the funding fell through, and pipelines and wires and plastic sheets obscuring the landscape. No denying all of that. But when I start to get on my high horse about how the good ole US of A protects its natural resources, and ask why Korea can't do the same, I remind myself of a couple of things: The good ole US of A is just as destructive to its environment as anywhere else, but two things keep it from seeming so: first, we're a big-ass, sprawling country, and as such, we can hide a lot from view. Korea is small--roughly the size of Kentucky, and a lot of people live here. It's a difficult task to keep the land pristine, while supporting a hefty population. And second, we have the benefit of centuries. In other words, we've had the time to clean our act up. Or to start anyway. Think about the foul-smelling Chicago River of the 19th and early 20th centuries: filled to the bubbling brim with slaughterhouse sewage and incapable of supporting living organisms. Think about the fact that the natural flow of the river was reversed because humans had befouled the waters so much that it was carrying typhoid into the heart of the city. Chicago is still cleaning up that mess. And that was over 100 years ago. Korea is a developing country that has flourished in amazing and surprising ways since the Korean War. MacArthur was sure this country was through after that war and would take at least 100 years to rebuild; obviously, he was wrong. The point is, Korea is young. Despite being old. And Koreans are already realizing that serious damage has been done to their ecosystem, and are making strides to reverse the damage. Of course, it still saddens me to see Korean hiking trails shut down until 2026 because too many people wanted to experience nature, and/or didn't respect nature enough to be careful with it while hiking through, but no doubt, the same thing happens in the USA. But it's that space thing that keeps many of these things from our immediate sight. And, in typical American fashion, we think that what we don't see (or what might be hiding beneath all the prettiness), doesn't impact us.

So, what I realize is that when I go home, I'm going to defend Korea like a sibling, despite the s**t I've talked. And whether Korea is a jerk or not, whether it's the least favorite of my siblings or not, is irrelevant--it's a part of me now, and I'll go to the mattresses for it. And that's a good thing.