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This place is truly the ugly man’s paradise. We used to kick this term around jokingly, thinking of the unattractive slobs who migrated here in droves and managed to leave with a wife. Now though, I’m realizing that the ugliness goes beyond appearances. Yes, this country is paradise to both the physically repulsive and those with offensive personalities.
Normally I don’t care all that much. I mean, if some loveless dork can find happiness with a foreign chick who has a different idea of what is physically attractive than women native to his homeland, and who can’t really understand the language well enough to get just how obnoxious he is, or who maybe even needs a quick way out of a bad situation, then hey, more power to him. Everyone deserves love right? Well not everyone.
Take Dave’s boss for example. This guy makes Dave’s life hell, which in turn makes my life hell. We’re talking about one of the most arrogant bastards around. Someone who really gets off on manipulating and controlling people’s lives. And the part that’s really sick is how successful he is so that year after year this guy gets more and more power. I don’t have to guess that Hitler rose to power in a similar fashion. The difference between this guy and one of the most evil figures in history is, of course, that this guy is pretty dang stupid. His manipulation tactics and his vanity are so transparent that most of the time we just chuckle at his idiocy even if he is the one holding the noose around Dave’s neck.
So this guy spends a helluva lot of time grooming. He’s the type of man who pays bucks for manicures, then brags about how tough he is. Turns out that all this grooming and the fact that he has a lot of power and money makes him some sort of Korean chick magnet. Every time he bops into town he’s got girls lined up for dates. Everywhere he goes Korean women coo and feign virginity at him. Why should I care, right? Well, I just hate to see evil people getting so much good attention. I mean there’s a reason he’s single and it’s because women from his native country won’t have anything to do with him. Not to mention that I don’t know many American women who get off on his sense of style, which is sort of JR Ewing meets L.A. So his ego just keeps getting bigger and bigger, he keeps getting more and more pro-Korean (‘cause he really digs being a chick magnet and really feels like GOD here because men have all the power and it is socially acceptable to treat women like slaves, which he likes to do).
I just had to write this after getting all steamed at the story Dave was tellin’. I think it started with his coworkers laughing at him because he was wearing a seatbelt in the back seat. He defended himself with some remark like: "It’s only Koreans who think it’s safe being in the back seat without out seatbelt. Can’t you learn from Princess Di’s death?" It’s true. People here really believe that you’ll be safe in an accident if you are in the back seat and not wearing a seatbelt. They believe it so much that they pile as many kids back there as they can. The cars look like big playpens. OK. So. The Princess Di reference reminds one of the coworkers that Korea’s condolence letter to the Queen of England regarding their loss was the shortest of all countries worth mentioning. Why? Well, this coworker says it’s because Koreans generally think that Di was a whore because she cheated on Charles. So Dave says something like: "But he was the one who was having an affair since day one and who admitted to being in love with someone else all those years." To which the coworker said something like: "Yeah, but in Korea we believe that if a man strays it’s his wife’s fault for not being good (or any other word like "pretty" or "sexy") enough." This is when Dave’s boss pops in and says something like: "Now I like that!" What a dork. By the way, I have no idea if what the nameless coworker said about the letter was true and I'm not claiming that it is.
If you think I’m overreacting to one little statement, just bear in mind that he’s got a long history of statements such as that; he’s already established himself as someone who firmly believes he ought to rule over women. Fortunately for him none of his female employees speak English.
[much later]
Whew, what a day! Got to the Embassy compound around ten, bought a bunch American goods, caught a cab to the Crown hotel where we met Catherine, then hopped onto Yongsan post for some good ole American restaurant food, then to Itaewon so Yvonne could do a little last minute shopping before she leaves, then off the Catherine’s to watch our videos. And my, what a house Catherine has! I only aspire to know how to put together furniture, art, and the odd antique like she and her husband do. Absolutely unbelievable. It was like being in a mini-museum. I would love to live amongst things I’d collected like that. I look around our dumpy little apartment and I think I gotta long way to go. I’m so pop culture, but I try really hard not to be. It’s like denying some inherent feature of myself.
I’m still in re-adjustment phase and I’m feeling the pangs of my ongoing identity crisis. I always feel so youthful here, not only in the way I dress but the way I speak. I never feel that at home, but most people I meet here are older and the whole populace is so dang conservative in their dress. Even the kids trying to be punks are conservative in a weird sort of way. No one deviates far from the norm. So usually I stress about what to wear. Basically, I don’t want to wear anything that will reveal how young I am. I guess I’m afraid people won’t take me seriously, especially after they hear me speak. I mean, I have my own language going. I use all kinds of slang and weird noises to indicate emphasis. I need subtitles across my chest. Don’t look for comparisons from what I just described to my writing. Writing doesn’t even come close.
But then I get pissed because I think I’m wasting away this fabulous part of my life called the mid-twenties. This is the time when I can totally get away with wearing weird shit. My hair should be purple right now. I should have multiple piercings or at least a tatoo. I don’t. But I do like to wear clothes that fit my age and I have many. Unfortunately, I never wear them. And I’m always stopping myself before I speak. I never let myself rip into full Helen. Instead, I’m cautious and less expressive than usual - even less vivacious. This really drags and since I’m re-adjusting, I’m feeling a bit rebellious. So today I grabbed that black mini skirt and the small grey tee and went out on the town like I was some movie star (which I am if you happened to be watching channel 50 in Korea on a certain Friday night last May). It felt good catwalking down the street in my Fluevogs sucking up everybody’s glances like they were so low to me they should be bowing. I figured the locals wouldn’t know what kind of fashion was happening in the rest of the world if it walked up and bit them in the ass. So who cares what I’m wearing?
I let my voice go too. It felt good, but I did catch myself flinging "like" left and right like some aging valley girl. I spose I’ll never lose that. Nor will "dude" ever drift from my vocab. I think I’ll be 60 and still saying, "Dude, get a real [fill in the blank]. Oh well. Love me or leave me.
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