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.

No hablo Hanguk...o??

Here is an incomplete list of the worst times to NOT know the local language. From experience.

10. Meeting your friends' parents
Well, that was awkward. At least I'm not expected to say much.

9. Concerts and other performances/meetings
Now granted, most of these we choose to attend, but still - "Oh, was that funny?" "What did I just agree to?" "...can someone please tell me why we are clapping this time?"

8. Shopping
All I wanted was a toothbrush. But wait...what's the Korean word for "Toiletries"? Can I just say "Toothbrush imneeda"?? It was worth a try, but - no. Oh well, I guess it won't hurt me to just use mouthwash for a while. Until that runs out too...

7. Menus
Now I like most of the food I have eaten here, but still. When I walk into a restaurant I like to have some idea of my choices... More than once it was a random, "Uhh...*that* one..." *pointing vaguely at one portion of the menu* "Oh! *something fast in Korean*?" "Sure...I mean, 네..." Complete with an uncertain nod. It wasn't always good.

6. Taxis
You left your wallet at the dorm before a trip to Seoul? Haha -too bad! Hopefully that $30 will last for 3 days!
"Um, hey guys, does he even know where we wanted to go...?"

5. Prices
Did he really just charge me an extra 1000won because he didn't know where my dorm was and I had to tell him every turn??!"
"Wait...I'm pretty sure the sign said 800won, not 3000! Oh well, who needs lunch...right?"

4. Computers
Why yes, I purposefully printed 4 copies of this paper: 2 in black and white, 1 in color, and one with the completely wrong format!

3. Directions
Scenario One:
Me: "Myeongdeong station, right?"
윤재: "Yes."
...20 minutes later...
윤재: "Where are you??!"
Me: "Myeongdeong station...? In front of the UniQlo."
윤재: "Oh, you mean Myeongdong...ok. I'll be there in 10 minutes."
Me: Uhh.

Scenario Two:
Well...here I am. Standing in the middle of the 2nd biggest train station I've ever been in. My train leaves in 4 minutes. There are 16 platforms and more than one type of train per platform. Someone wanna help a cute foreigner? Anyone?? No? Oh that's ok, if I miss my train I'll just, you know - NEVER get to go to BUSAN!! AH!!!

Scenario Three:
Well, here I am. Wandering around the second biggest city in the world. It's about...1am. But hey, I know my hostel is around here somewhere, because I remember that one building was kind of close to it...

2. Being sick
준재: What, are you sick?
Me: ...yep!
준재: Did you go to the doctor??
Me: 준재, how could I go to the doctor - he wouldn't have any idea that I was saying...
준재: Ah... Well how about the pharmacy? Did you get medicine?
Me: Uh, well...no. I can't read the labels - I don't know what kind to get.
준재: Oh. That is a real problem. I think you must really be missing home now! It's really bad to be sick away from home.
Me: .......I KNOW! But thank you for caring.

1. New friends
Well, I said something in Korean, and he thought it was funny, so he answered. Maybe it was funny, maybe it wasn't - I'll never know.
She added me on Facebook, so now I can see all her Korean statuses. Cool.
It takes him about as long to think/write in Korean and translate it into English as it takes me to figure out how to make the simplest sentences in extremely broken Korean.

But it's worth it.

Found in translation: "Cheer up!"

Has anyone ever said anything inconsiderate to you? The kind of thing that the more you think about it, the more inappropriate it seems... Part of you wants to give them a good smack, part of you wants to give them a piece of your mind, and part of you just shakes its head and walks away thinking, "See if I ever try talking with you again!"

Now, what if the comment was meant 100% sincerely, and the speaker had no idea that their words were hurtful or inappropriate? What if they thought that their words expressed the sympathy and understanding and hope they were honestly feeling?

You might think this is an impossible or at least highly unlikely situation. Think again.

When I say, in English, "It's good." I usually mean it in something of a flippant manner when someone makes a small mistake and says, "Oh, my bad." Or I use it to mean seriously that something looks, smells, sounds, or tastes good. However, when speaking with a native Spanish speaker (all the ones I know are from Mexico/Central/South America) I can use the direct translation, "Està bien." to mean:
"It´s ok."
"It doesn´t matter."
"Are you ok?"
"I am ok."
"It´s going to work out."
"Oh, nevermind."
"That will work."
Very likely, there are more specific ways to say each of those phrases, but as a new speaker of the language, for now, that one phrase will serve many purposes.

But what about "Cheer up!"? When do I use that phase? Usually in a somewhat joking, condescending, or empathetic manner when I think someone is making a big deal out of something small. So when my Korean friends began saying it to me during the week my Grandpa passed away, my initial reaction was one of surprise and indignation. "Who says that?! How can you tell me to cheer up when this is obviously such a painful and lonely time for me??"

But looking past the words, knowing my friends care for me and would never act flippantly at such a time, I tried to see what was being lost in the translation. I asked my suite mate, Umi, about the Korean translation for "Cheer up." Her eyes lit up and she replied quickly, "힘내!" ("heem-nae") Obviously, in their culture "힝내" has very different connotations than our expression "Cheer up." In their minds, they were communicating the sympathy and understanding and hope they were honestly feeling.

I always wonder how many times this happens and I just have no idea how much is lost in the translation.

Fortunately, this story has a happy ending: I found a good (and very easy!) way to express the sympathy, understanding, and hope I feel when my friends are feeling down!

Really doing it.

I finally did it! I cannot explain how happy this makes me. But I'll try anyway!

We've had orientation the last couple days and before that we were all just spending time with each other - the other international students. We went out to eat, we wandered around campus, and we traded stories about home and here. But we always stuck together in big groups, and made sure we always had at least one or two students who could speak some Korean. Last night I started realizing how much of an annoyance that is to the employees and owners whose restaurants we invaded. We were loud, we were clueless (which means we were rude), and we were messy. Because...chopsticks... Yea, you get it. So today when we had a break for lunch, my British friend, Peter, sitting next to me turned to me and said, "Where would you like to go?" "Oh, I don't care." So we turned to Mr. Taciturn Aapo from Finland. (I'm not making fun of him. Actually, it is a cultural trait. The Finns have no concept for either small talk or awkward silences. Aapo extremely polite, clever, thoughtful, and humorous. He is also very unlike most Americans.) "I don't really care." So we decided to go into town, without the big group. We walked around, found a random place that had reasonable prices and walked in....

"So, Peter, Aapo, do either of you speak any Korean?" "No." "None at all." "...me neither."

We all looked at each other, smiled. And kept standing there looking at the menu. it seriously looked like chicken scratch with some prices next to it. We found the "rice" section, and then some other words we could pick out, but nothing like a full order.

So Peter pulled out his handy pocket dictionary of common words and phrases and we started trying to match what was on the menu board to what was in the book.

Peter's comment: "We're such tourists."
Aapo's comment: "Are we really doing this...?"

We looked at each other, started grinning, nodded, and walked up to the counter to order.

The girl was polite and patient - we'd only been staring at the menu board for ten minutes...

Peter and Aapo ordered: "An nyeong he seyo." "An nyeong he seyo." "Uh.....*sheepish grin*..... bibimbap?" *emphatic nod and big smile* "Kom sam nida!" (Mumbled, of course, as none of us were quite sure how to *really* say "Thank you!")

And then I ordered, repeating the greeting and asking in my own very timid voice, "Mm, ah...neangmeon?" Again the big smile and emphatic nod and the exchanged thank-you's.

Then it was over. We sat down, looked at each other and smiled because, yes, Aapo, we are really doing it! Hardcore tourist style.