The Unseen Anchor: A Korean 아버지 (Father)

In my observation of and participation in various Korean homes, as well as throughout countless conversations with friends, I've come to see a very different kind of father than the "absent father figures" we lament in the states.

There are relatively few single mother in Korea. If parents divorce, the Grandparents often take care of the children so that they will have a stable, "normal" home. Indeed, a normal Korean home usually consists of a stay-at-home mother, (More on the topic of women's roles in society in a different post.) two children, grandparents and other relatives coming and going freely, and of course, a father, 아버지 (abeojee). A mother with a job, more - or less - than 2 children, infrequent contact with relatives, and an involved father are all cultural abnormalities.

It is the mother's, and the Grandparents' and aunts', job to raise the children. The fathers' job is to have a job. Most jobs in Korea begin before 8am and can last til 10pm, and if not required to stay this late, the employee can be "required" to go out and drink with coworkers and superiors. Weekends are therefore the only chance a family has to interact with their 아버지. By then he is tired, often sleeping til after noon, by which time the rest of the family has already set out on their own routines.

A recent poll taken of young people in Korea asked them to rank the level of closeness they felt with each member of their family. In every case, the father came last. Most of my friends hold their 아버지s in respect, as they have been taught, which necessitates distance. Fear of their ill opinion, disappointed hopes for their approval, and dread of taking care of them as they age characterize the views of young men toward their fathers. Young women seem to view their fathers as a sort of vending machine who will only provide their allowance if they perform better than their peers.  While there are certainly exceptions to these perspectives, they seem to dominate in most homes and families.

Although his the family would have no financial support and no name without him, his role is limited to this. The emotional support comes from the mother, the discipline comes from everyone who is older, and the relationships come from friends. The 아버지, the anchor of the family, is rarely seen in any other capacity.

Reverse Culture Shock, 2

So far I think I've done a pretty good job of speaking the right English words at all the right times... I'll admit, at first it was a little rough. After getting off the plane and nodding at all the stewardesses who wished me a "Merry Christmas" it kind of hit me that I understood what they were saying. And that they would have understood if I had actually responded.

It felt odd joking with the customs officer - in English. It felt odd reading the names and prices of the snacks - in English. It felt odd reading all the directions and signs through the airport - in English. It felt odd talking with the man next to me in the baggage claim - in English. It felt odd hearing the couple next to me talking - in Korean.

In short, the first few days, EVERYTHING felt odd.

Why are there so many tall white people? Why can I read everything..and I really didn't want to understand the conversation that I overheard from the people standing next to me! This green stuff - oh yeah. It's money. It works. Oh, and, um.....food. I know what everything is. In fact, I can predict with 99% accuracy what everything I put in my mouth will taste like before I eat it. Also, why are all the buildings so short and spread out?

Oh yeah. I'm not in Korea any more, Toto.

All-of-a-sudden, the familiar is unfamiliar. Now I have to get used to not getting used to anything. Everything feels the same as when I left. Everything, that is, except me.