It's amazing how much the brain does on it's own, without you having to manually do the processing. This has become clear to me as I become more adjusted to being here, and as the phenomenon referred to as "culture shock" begins to fade.
When I first arrived here, I noticed everything. Everything was new to me, and so everything was noticed and had to be manually processed. Now, a month and a half in, I find myself in a state of mind more akin to the way I lived my daily life back home. I go about doing things, and for the most part the background happenings of my surroundings stay as background. I don't have to notice ever sound, ever color, ever sensation. I'm more or less used to them now, and so my brain processes them without my active participation.
I suppose this is, in essence, exactly what culture shock is. Your brain, in totally unfamiliar surroundings, doesn't know where to place all of the various stimuli of the moment. And so, by a quirk of psychology, you are forced to analyze and physically direct the neurological path of every single stimulus. This requires an unimaginably large amount of mental energy, and can be rather exhausting. But, as you do this, your brain learns the path that these various stimuli must take, and begins to do the work on it's own. Over time, things happen without you having to notice them.
I don't think we realize on a day to day basis exactly how much is happening around us. The color of the tiles, the sound of the subway, the people having ma conversation near us, the. Aesthetics of the neighborhood. But when you are completely new to a place you notice every single thing. This is simultaneously wonderful and overwhelming. When you are familiar to a place, you have more time to spend thinking about whatever you want. Your brain isn't forced into contemplating the simple aspect of where you are right now. But when you do notice every single thing, you have an appreciation for your environment that normally is taken for granted.
I'm certainly more comfortable now that the initial culture shock is over, but there was something fun about it too. I'm more in my head, and less in the moment. Of course, I like being in my head, but there was something fun about being completely immersed, completely aware of every single detail of my surroundings.
This is a shorter post, mostly created because I don't want anyone to think I've forgotten about posting. I've been working on a specific post for a little over a week now, but it is taking longer than expected. It requires a lot of research, and I haven't quite finished the investigation that is necessary for it. I will be out of town this weekend, so no Sunday blog post again. Look for the next post sometime next week.
-Mongoose
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Bulamsan
I have often heard people say that bravery isn't about not being afraid, that bravery is being afraid of something and doing it anyway. I would like to propose a slightly modified definition. Bravery is doing something that any rational person would be afraid to do.
There are two paths towards bravery then. There is of course being rational, being afraid, and yet still doing. The other option, of course, is to be irrational and stupid, and thus not afraid. The latter, I think, is the kind of bravery that many people desire. Because being afraid doesn't feel good. Being truly scared for ones safety is a terribly uncomfortable feeling, and when we are unfortunate enough to have that feeling, we find ourselves wishing we could feel differently. And so there's a sense of envy for the irrational people who just don't seem to be emotionally affected by being in danger. Of course, having irrational bravery shouldn't be a particular source of pride, because your not overcoming anything, you are not actually conquering fear. Irrational bravery is also more likely to get you killed.
These are the thoughts that were going through my head as I sat atop the peak of Bulamsam Mountain yesterday afternoon, eating a peach flavored popsicle, happier to be alive than I ever have been previously.
For those of you not familiar with meetup.com, it is a website where you can find groups doing interesting things in your area. Yoga, hiking, dancing, whatever you interests are. It's a great resource for getting out and doing shit. Its especially useful if you're new to a foreign city where you know absolutely no one. I joined a hiking group that goes hiking every Saturday in or around Seoul. I like hiking, I like nature, I like physical activity, so it seemed a natural choice. They do a range of hikes, from easy nature walks, to all out rock climbing with ropes and harnesses. The description for this hike was that it was moderately difficult, and would include some bouldering. Bouldering is typically where you are in fact climbing strait up rock faces, but for very short distances, and so no equipment is necessary. I like bouldering. I went bouldering with Britney and Turtle back in Ohio several times.
The meeting location for the hike was a subway station about an hour away. I get there and find everybody and introduce myself, because this is the first hike I've done with them. Everyone is friendly and interesting. It is a mix of expats and Koreans. There are several older Korean men that seem to more or less be the group leaders. It was also the first time I've met any expats who were neither English teachers nor soldiers. There were several English teachers, but there was one university level German teacher, from Germany, and one Indian software developer.
And so we set off for the mountain. The park is about a 15 minute walk from the subway station. It is a beautiful park, and I am happy to be surrounded by nature for the first time since I've been here. We start hiking and we are walking along paths, well marked at first, and then slowly less walked. As we turn off the main paths, we are walking more through the woods. It gets steeper, and slightly more difficult. I'm building up a good sweat and enjoying myself immensely. I like hikes that involve a lot of climbing over small and medium sized rocks, and that's what is mostly happening so far.
We come out of the trees, and reach a massive sloped rock face. It is the side of the mountain. It is enormous, and impressive. Nothing growing on it, just smooth rock sloping up for hundreds of feet. This mountain was formed by a massive lava flow some several thousands of years ago. Large sections of it are just smooth, sloping, enormous, dome shaped slags. I stop to admire it as the group walks by, and then I go to join them.
Just around the corner everyone is sitting down and taking out their water bottles. Break time. I sit, and hydrate, and revel in how much I am enjoying my morning. We sit for about 15 minutes and then everyone stands up. I'm excited to get going, and I'm wondering where the path leads next.
And then something funny happens. One of the old Korean man walks back the way we came. We start fallowing him. He walks back to where the giant sloping rock face is, turns, and starts walking up it.
Allow me to take a moment to describe in more detail exactly what is happening with this rock face. When I say sloping rock face, I don't mean that it's like a steep ramp, a steady walk up a hill. The side of this mountain is nearing a 60 degree angle. Think about that. A 45 degree angle, which would be considered fairly steep, is pretty easy to imagine. A 60 degree angle is half way between that, and a vertical wall. Mathematically it is a slope of 3 vertical units for every one horizontal unit. It's really fucking steep. I'm guessing that this wasn't quite 60, maybe more around 55, but still. Steep. And as I said before, entirely smooth. Theres nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold onto, just flat rock surface for hundreds of feet. And so when the first guy just started walking up it, I had a definite moment of, wait, what? THAT'S where were going?!?
And it was. And let me tell you, it was terrifying. 100 feet is about a third of a football field. Which doesn't seem like that far when your talking about walking 100 feet, or something being 100 feet away. 100 feet suddenly takes on a whole new meaning when it's 100 feet up, when, say, you walk 100 feet up a 60 fucking degree angle, and you turn around and look 100 feet down. Suddenly, 100 feet is a very very long distance. Because again, there was nothing to hold onto. The only thing keeping you on the wall of this mountain is the friction on your shoes. And if that gives, if you slip, if you start sliding, that can get out of control real fast, and there's nothing to slow you down except the eventual flat ground.
And the image I had in my head of me tumbling wildly down the side of this mountain was all too vivid after 100 feet. And I looked up ahead to where the leader had stopped, and I wasn't even half way there. However, soon he started playing a small ocarina-type instrument. I imagine he was playing some sort of Korean folk music. It had that sort of sound to it. He played it very well, and it was beautiful. The sweet melody hung around the mountain like a gentle fog, chasing away my fears and giving me the strength to continue. And, miraculously, I made it to the safety of the flat location, where we rested again, and drank more water. I looked back over what I had done, how far I had come. The view was spectacular. I could see so much of the city. And I was proud of myself for having accomplished it. I was ready for the rest of the hike, now certain that the most difficult part must be over.
But that was just the beginning. I didn't know it at the time, but we were probably only about 15 percent up the mountain. The rest of the hike would be mostly the same as that. Walking up impossibly steep angles for hundreds of feet at a time with nothing to hold onto. Well, that's not entirely true. Occasionally for the more difficult spots, one of the leaders would drop a rope, run up to a fairly stable spot, and then brace themselves. You weren't supposed to use the rope to pull yourself up, as it was just a person holding onto the other end. But it was there as a safety net in case you started to slip, and was psychologically very helpful. On two separate occasions, for the steepest and most difficult slopes (I'm talking maybe 75 degrees) one of the leaders found a place in the rock to actually anchor the rope with rock climbing equipment, and you did use the rope to support the majority of your weight as you pulled yourself up.
On one occasion we walked up a giant slope, around a giant rock at the top, and then down the other side, in order to walk around another cliff, and then back up another insane slope. Walking down one of those slopes was one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring moments of the day. Again, still terrifying. The way to do it is to actually walk facing forwards, body strait, but bent pretty significantly at the knees, and to just slowly put one foot in front of the other. And here your are, walking on the side of a mountain, with absolutely nothing around you, except the entire city right in front of you. It's such an incredible feeling. You feel so large. The city is so small. There's nothing but air around you. Trees far below. Not attached to anything. It's incredible. But still terrifying.
Walking up these slopes is massively counter intuitive. Instinct when climbing is to keep your body low to the ground, lowering your center of gravity, and giving you more control. For walking up a steep slope however, you actually want to stand up as much as possible. The reason is that, again, the only thing keeping you on the side of the rock is the friction of your shoes. The higher you stand, the more directly over your shoes, the more friction. To lower yourself, to try and climb up the slope using your hands and knees, actually reduces the amount of friction on your shoes, makes it more likely to slip. So you want to stand up. But this is completely counterintuitive and feels really scary to do.
Every time the leader would stop for an extended period of time, he would play his flute. Every melody, every sound, was beautiful. And the atmosphere it created was no less than majestic. It was almost otherworldly. To be in such an intense situation, to be so scared, literally scared for you life, and then to hear this calming peaceful melody, out in the middle of no where, away from civilization on the side of a mountain, is just indescribable. It was heavenly. It was angelic. It was miraculous. Please understand, I use these words with very intense meaning not lightly. There is no word too dramatic to describe the feelings that sound elicited.
Also, I have to add, the Korean men on this trip really amazed and astounded me. All the expats are terrified, and struggling, and in awe of what we are actually doing on this hike. Meanwhile, the Koreans are just casually walking around the side of this mountain like ants on a wall, as if they are simply going for their morning stroll. Koreans are hard-core man.
Finally, after a particularly difficult stretch that involved the need for anchored rope in spots, that several people got stuck on for a while, and that seemed to push the limits of what everyone (expats at least) was capable of, we came to a nice shady flat spot, and stopped for lunch. I had some pastry and some beef jerky in my back pack. Other people had fruit, vegetables, various Korean things, and everybody shared. We were almost at the top, there was only one more slope to go. One expat joked, "Where we sit and wait for the helicopter to get us, right?" I replied that I though we were taking the elevator back down. Someone else laughed at how amazing it would be if there was an ice cream stand at the top. I said that if there was an ice cream stand at the top, I would shit myself.
After lunch we got up, and hiked a short distance to the final slope. My feet and my calves are killing me. I don't have much strength left that I can force out of the lower half of my body. And when we arrive at the last slope, my jaw drops. It's not as long as many of the others, but it's long enough so that you still don't want to slip and tumble down it. But it's the steepest we've done so far without an anchored rope, and the Koreans don't seem to intend to lay one. They start up it, and what choice do I have? This is one of those trips from which, after a very early point, there was simply no turning back. The only way was forward, and here again I was struck by this harsh reality. I didn't want to do it. I was scared, and tired, and sore. And every ounce of me was against climbing this insanely steep slope. But what choice did I have?
It was completely smooth, probably about 65 degree, maybe even 70 degrees for a few short stretches. I make it about 85 percent of the way up, and then I get stuck. I can't go any farther, I simply freeze. It's too steep, my shoes don't have enough grip, and I don't feasibly see a way I can go. The Koreans encourage me. I take a step, and other step, and then I start to slip. Suddenly my shoes lose their grip and I start sliding backwards. I freak out. I scream. My mind is racing with images of chaotic tumbling down the side of a mountain. I start to panic. Real panic. My heart starts beating so fast that it hurts. I start breathing quickly. I'm completely not calm. I feel dizzy. I try desperately to dig my feet in, to find stable footing, but I'm still sliding backwards. In my panic I forget about the mechanics of slope climbing, and I lower my center of gravity, which reduces friction, and I start sliding even more.
This all happened in the time span of about 5 seconds. Luckily, the Koreans had their shit together. One of the more experienced climbers wasn't far behind me. She climbed up behind me, and braced the back of my shoe with her hand, stopping my descent. I breathed deep. A slowed my heart. I regained my footing. I took another step, and immediately felt her hand behind my shoe again. Another step, and again her hand was there. And in this manner I slowly walked up the last 20 feet to the summit of the mountain.
Well, more or less. There was a short walk through the woods, and one very short section of traditional bouldering, which I loved. In terms of climbing, I'm definitely most comfortable when I have hand holds. I feel that's probably a fairly natural thing.
We get to the summit, and I see a helipad. This makes me laugh. And then, about 20 feet away from that, a man selling ice-cream. I did not, in fact, shit myself. I did, however, buy ice-cream. You may wonder how he got it up there. He took the stairs. There was an easy trail on the other side. We just took the terrifying death defying way for shits a giggles I suppose.
So I sat at the top of this mountain, eating my popsicle, and I did a good deal of thinking. I thought about the nature of bravery. I knew I had been brave, in the rational I'm still scared sort of way. But that kind of bravery isn't emotionally satisfying, it is emotionally taxing. It's an incredibly difficult thing to fight true, honest to god terror. And it feels good to succeed. Bt it doesn't feel so good to be that scared and to have fight against instinct.
I thought about being alive, and about the fact that I had truly just survived something. That felt very good. And it also felt good to think of in terms of accomplishment. To think, "I climbed a fucking mountain today, a real mountain, and I fucking climbed it!"
And it occurred to me several times during the climb that the hike was somewhat analogous to my journey here in Korea. Getting here was just the start of the adventure. It is both difficult and scary. I will do do things I never thought I would do, and accomplish things I never thought I could accomplish. But it will also be unimaginably rewarding. There will be moments of strife and of pain, but there will be moments of rest and of peace. And just when I think I can't go any further, there will be an old Korean man playing the flute.
Well, ok, maybe not that last part. But certainly the hike was analogous, not just to my journey in Korea, but to any difficult undertaking in life. Even, perhaps, to life itself. And let me say, that some of the most spectacular views I've ever had in my entire life were during this trip. And was most cleanly worth it.
We took the stairs back down. It was a nice pleasant trail. Very simple. Very calm. Very relaxing. A nice pleasant walk through the woods. Afterwards we went to a little Korean restaurant and had lunch. And then I went home.
It was a wonderful morning/afternoon, and I made some new friends. I have a profound and intense affection especially for the Koreans who were so wonderful, patient, and helpful. I'm looking very much forward to hiking with them again in the future. Though I can't say I want to do that particular hike again. For the record, I do have pictures to share. I will post them soon. I have to figure out how to get them from my lap tap (has no Internet) to my iPad (has Internet). And then I have to figure out the best way to share them. I'm not sure how pictures work on this site. I may end up just making an album on Facebook. In any case, I will let you guys know.
Until next time.
-Mongoose
There are two paths towards bravery then. There is of course being rational, being afraid, and yet still doing. The other option, of course, is to be irrational and stupid, and thus not afraid. The latter, I think, is the kind of bravery that many people desire. Because being afraid doesn't feel good. Being truly scared for ones safety is a terribly uncomfortable feeling, and when we are unfortunate enough to have that feeling, we find ourselves wishing we could feel differently. And so there's a sense of envy for the irrational people who just don't seem to be emotionally affected by being in danger. Of course, having irrational bravery shouldn't be a particular source of pride, because your not overcoming anything, you are not actually conquering fear. Irrational bravery is also more likely to get you killed.
These are the thoughts that were going through my head as I sat atop the peak of Bulamsam Mountain yesterday afternoon, eating a peach flavored popsicle, happier to be alive than I ever have been previously.
For those of you not familiar with meetup.com, it is a website where you can find groups doing interesting things in your area. Yoga, hiking, dancing, whatever you interests are. It's a great resource for getting out and doing shit. Its especially useful if you're new to a foreign city where you know absolutely no one. I joined a hiking group that goes hiking every Saturday in or around Seoul. I like hiking, I like nature, I like physical activity, so it seemed a natural choice. They do a range of hikes, from easy nature walks, to all out rock climbing with ropes and harnesses. The description for this hike was that it was moderately difficult, and would include some bouldering. Bouldering is typically where you are in fact climbing strait up rock faces, but for very short distances, and so no equipment is necessary. I like bouldering. I went bouldering with Britney and Turtle back in Ohio several times.
The meeting location for the hike was a subway station about an hour away. I get there and find everybody and introduce myself, because this is the first hike I've done with them. Everyone is friendly and interesting. It is a mix of expats and Koreans. There are several older Korean men that seem to more or less be the group leaders. It was also the first time I've met any expats who were neither English teachers nor soldiers. There were several English teachers, but there was one university level German teacher, from Germany, and one Indian software developer.
And so we set off for the mountain. The park is about a 15 minute walk from the subway station. It is a beautiful park, and I am happy to be surrounded by nature for the first time since I've been here. We start hiking and we are walking along paths, well marked at first, and then slowly less walked. As we turn off the main paths, we are walking more through the woods. It gets steeper, and slightly more difficult. I'm building up a good sweat and enjoying myself immensely. I like hikes that involve a lot of climbing over small and medium sized rocks, and that's what is mostly happening so far.
We come out of the trees, and reach a massive sloped rock face. It is the side of the mountain. It is enormous, and impressive. Nothing growing on it, just smooth rock sloping up for hundreds of feet. This mountain was formed by a massive lava flow some several thousands of years ago. Large sections of it are just smooth, sloping, enormous, dome shaped slags. I stop to admire it as the group walks by, and then I go to join them.
Just around the corner everyone is sitting down and taking out their water bottles. Break time. I sit, and hydrate, and revel in how much I am enjoying my morning. We sit for about 15 minutes and then everyone stands up. I'm excited to get going, and I'm wondering where the path leads next.
And then something funny happens. One of the old Korean man walks back the way we came. We start fallowing him. He walks back to where the giant sloping rock face is, turns, and starts walking up it.
Allow me to take a moment to describe in more detail exactly what is happening with this rock face. When I say sloping rock face, I don't mean that it's like a steep ramp, a steady walk up a hill. The side of this mountain is nearing a 60 degree angle. Think about that. A 45 degree angle, which would be considered fairly steep, is pretty easy to imagine. A 60 degree angle is half way between that, and a vertical wall. Mathematically it is a slope of 3 vertical units for every one horizontal unit. It's really fucking steep. I'm guessing that this wasn't quite 60, maybe more around 55, but still. Steep. And as I said before, entirely smooth. Theres nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold onto, just flat rock surface for hundreds of feet. And so when the first guy just started walking up it, I had a definite moment of, wait, what? THAT'S where were going?!?
And it was. And let me tell you, it was terrifying. 100 feet is about a third of a football field. Which doesn't seem like that far when your talking about walking 100 feet, or something being 100 feet away. 100 feet suddenly takes on a whole new meaning when it's 100 feet up, when, say, you walk 100 feet up a 60 fucking degree angle, and you turn around and look 100 feet down. Suddenly, 100 feet is a very very long distance. Because again, there was nothing to hold onto. The only thing keeping you on the wall of this mountain is the friction on your shoes. And if that gives, if you slip, if you start sliding, that can get out of control real fast, and there's nothing to slow you down except the eventual flat ground.
And the image I had in my head of me tumbling wildly down the side of this mountain was all too vivid after 100 feet. And I looked up ahead to where the leader had stopped, and I wasn't even half way there. However, soon he started playing a small ocarina-type instrument. I imagine he was playing some sort of Korean folk music. It had that sort of sound to it. He played it very well, and it was beautiful. The sweet melody hung around the mountain like a gentle fog, chasing away my fears and giving me the strength to continue. And, miraculously, I made it to the safety of the flat location, where we rested again, and drank more water. I looked back over what I had done, how far I had come. The view was spectacular. I could see so much of the city. And I was proud of myself for having accomplished it. I was ready for the rest of the hike, now certain that the most difficult part must be over.
But that was just the beginning. I didn't know it at the time, but we were probably only about 15 percent up the mountain. The rest of the hike would be mostly the same as that. Walking up impossibly steep angles for hundreds of feet at a time with nothing to hold onto. Well, that's not entirely true. Occasionally for the more difficult spots, one of the leaders would drop a rope, run up to a fairly stable spot, and then brace themselves. You weren't supposed to use the rope to pull yourself up, as it was just a person holding onto the other end. But it was there as a safety net in case you started to slip, and was psychologically very helpful. On two separate occasions, for the steepest and most difficult slopes (I'm talking maybe 75 degrees) one of the leaders found a place in the rock to actually anchor the rope with rock climbing equipment, and you did use the rope to support the majority of your weight as you pulled yourself up.
On one occasion we walked up a giant slope, around a giant rock at the top, and then down the other side, in order to walk around another cliff, and then back up another insane slope. Walking down one of those slopes was one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring moments of the day. Again, still terrifying. The way to do it is to actually walk facing forwards, body strait, but bent pretty significantly at the knees, and to just slowly put one foot in front of the other. And here your are, walking on the side of a mountain, with absolutely nothing around you, except the entire city right in front of you. It's such an incredible feeling. You feel so large. The city is so small. There's nothing but air around you. Trees far below. Not attached to anything. It's incredible. But still terrifying.
Walking up these slopes is massively counter intuitive. Instinct when climbing is to keep your body low to the ground, lowering your center of gravity, and giving you more control. For walking up a steep slope however, you actually want to stand up as much as possible. The reason is that, again, the only thing keeping you on the side of the rock is the friction of your shoes. The higher you stand, the more directly over your shoes, the more friction. To lower yourself, to try and climb up the slope using your hands and knees, actually reduces the amount of friction on your shoes, makes it more likely to slip. So you want to stand up. But this is completely counterintuitive and feels really scary to do.
Every time the leader would stop for an extended period of time, he would play his flute. Every melody, every sound, was beautiful. And the atmosphere it created was no less than majestic. It was almost otherworldly. To be in such an intense situation, to be so scared, literally scared for you life, and then to hear this calming peaceful melody, out in the middle of no where, away from civilization on the side of a mountain, is just indescribable. It was heavenly. It was angelic. It was miraculous. Please understand, I use these words with very intense meaning not lightly. There is no word too dramatic to describe the feelings that sound elicited.
Also, I have to add, the Korean men on this trip really amazed and astounded me. All the expats are terrified, and struggling, and in awe of what we are actually doing on this hike. Meanwhile, the Koreans are just casually walking around the side of this mountain like ants on a wall, as if they are simply going for their morning stroll. Koreans are hard-core man.
Finally, after a particularly difficult stretch that involved the need for anchored rope in spots, that several people got stuck on for a while, and that seemed to push the limits of what everyone (expats at least) was capable of, we came to a nice shady flat spot, and stopped for lunch. I had some pastry and some beef jerky in my back pack. Other people had fruit, vegetables, various Korean things, and everybody shared. We were almost at the top, there was only one more slope to go. One expat joked, "Where we sit and wait for the helicopter to get us, right?" I replied that I though we were taking the elevator back down. Someone else laughed at how amazing it would be if there was an ice cream stand at the top. I said that if there was an ice cream stand at the top, I would shit myself.
After lunch we got up, and hiked a short distance to the final slope. My feet and my calves are killing me. I don't have much strength left that I can force out of the lower half of my body. And when we arrive at the last slope, my jaw drops. It's not as long as many of the others, but it's long enough so that you still don't want to slip and tumble down it. But it's the steepest we've done so far without an anchored rope, and the Koreans don't seem to intend to lay one. They start up it, and what choice do I have? This is one of those trips from which, after a very early point, there was simply no turning back. The only way was forward, and here again I was struck by this harsh reality. I didn't want to do it. I was scared, and tired, and sore. And every ounce of me was against climbing this insanely steep slope. But what choice did I have?
It was completely smooth, probably about 65 degree, maybe even 70 degrees for a few short stretches. I make it about 85 percent of the way up, and then I get stuck. I can't go any farther, I simply freeze. It's too steep, my shoes don't have enough grip, and I don't feasibly see a way I can go. The Koreans encourage me. I take a step, and other step, and then I start to slip. Suddenly my shoes lose their grip and I start sliding backwards. I freak out. I scream. My mind is racing with images of chaotic tumbling down the side of a mountain. I start to panic. Real panic. My heart starts beating so fast that it hurts. I start breathing quickly. I'm completely not calm. I feel dizzy. I try desperately to dig my feet in, to find stable footing, but I'm still sliding backwards. In my panic I forget about the mechanics of slope climbing, and I lower my center of gravity, which reduces friction, and I start sliding even more.
This all happened in the time span of about 5 seconds. Luckily, the Koreans had their shit together. One of the more experienced climbers wasn't far behind me. She climbed up behind me, and braced the back of my shoe with her hand, stopping my descent. I breathed deep. A slowed my heart. I regained my footing. I took another step, and immediately felt her hand behind my shoe again. Another step, and again her hand was there. And in this manner I slowly walked up the last 20 feet to the summit of the mountain.
Well, more or less. There was a short walk through the woods, and one very short section of traditional bouldering, which I loved. In terms of climbing, I'm definitely most comfortable when I have hand holds. I feel that's probably a fairly natural thing.
We get to the summit, and I see a helipad. This makes me laugh. And then, about 20 feet away from that, a man selling ice-cream. I did not, in fact, shit myself. I did, however, buy ice-cream. You may wonder how he got it up there. He took the stairs. There was an easy trail on the other side. We just took the terrifying death defying way for shits a giggles I suppose.
So I sat at the top of this mountain, eating my popsicle, and I did a good deal of thinking. I thought about the nature of bravery. I knew I had been brave, in the rational I'm still scared sort of way. But that kind of bravery isn't emotionally satisfying, it is emotionally taxing. It's an incredibly difficult thing to fight true, honest to god terror. And it feels good to succeed. Bt it doesn't feel so good to be that scared and to have fight against instinct.
I thought about being alive, and about the fact that I had truly just survived something. That felt very good. And it also felt good to think of in terms of accomplishment. To think, "I climbed a fucking mountain today, a real mountain, and I fucking climbed it!"
And it occurred to me several times during the climb that the hike was somewhat analogous to my journey here in Korea. Getting here was just the start of the adventure. It is both difficult and scary. I will do do things I never thought I would do, and accomplish things I never thought I could accomplish. But it will also be unimaginably rewarding. There will be moments of strife and of pain, but there will be moments of rest and of peace. And just when I think I can't go any further, there will be an old Korean man playing the flute.
Well, ok, maybe not that last part. But certainly the hike was analogous, not just to my journey in Korea, but to any difficult undertaking in life. Even, perhaps, to life itself. And let me say, that some of the most spectacular views I've ever had in my entire life were during this trip. And was most cleanly worth it.
We took the stairs back down. It was a nice pleasant trail. Very simple. Very calm. Very relaxing. A nice pleasant walk through the woods. Afterwards we went to a little Korean restaurant and had lunch. And then I went home.
It was a wonderful morning/afternoon, and I made some new friends. I have a profound and intense affection especially for the Koreans who were so wonderful, patient, and helpful. I'm looking very much forward to hiking with them again in the future. Though I can't say I want to do that particular hike again. For the record, I do have pictures to share. I will post them soon. I have to figure out how to get them from my lap tap (has no Internet) to my iPad (has Internet). And then I have to figure out the best way to share them. I'm not sure how pictures work on this site. I may end up just making an album on Facebook. In any case, I will let you guys know.
Until next time.
-Mongoose
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Evening Thoughts
This city makes strange noises. I've noticed several times, especially in the back alleys, that it always sounds like there's a huge crowd just around the corner. There never is. Your turn the corner, and there's just a bunch of people walking around, and then it sounds like the big crowd is just around the next corner. I've been wondering why this is, and I've finally developed a theory.
I think it works something like a seashell. And keep in mind that I don't really know why a seashell makes the noise it does when you hold it up to your ear, but I'm pretty sure it has to do with its shape and the way it funnels vibrations. My best guess is that this city is so vast, and so busy, that the noises of the people from all around just echo off of the buildings and travel down the alleyways, creating the sense that there's a large group of people shouting just a few hundred feet away.
Sometimes I feel like coming here was a mistake. And sometimes I've never been happier. Sometimes the concept of spending a whole year here seems unbearable. And sometimes it's not enough time. This is the most bipolar experience I've ever had in my life. As I'm starting to make more and more friends, and as work is getting easier, the difficulty is revealing itself to be a lack of anything meaningful to do with my free time.
The first difficulty was the stress of work, and how quickly I was expected to just do it. As that started to ease, the next difficulty was loneliness, and not knowing anyone, not having anyone to eat or drink with. And now that problem too has faded. But when I come home from work, and I have my evening, I'm not sure how to fill it.
I've been watching a lot of movies. That's a distraction, but it's not been fulfilling. I've been working on a chain mail project for a very special person, but aside from that I'm surprised to find the prospect of chain mail less appealing and less fulfilling then it was back home. I'm not sure exactly why that is yet. I have my flute, and my oil pastels, and I've been drawing and playing, which is fulfilling temporarily, but doesn't leave me with a satisfied feeling of accomplishment when I'm done. Again, I'm not sure why.
I think it has something to do with what I actually want to do with my life. Drawing and making music are nice hobbies, but they aren't what I want to do with my life. Perhaps it is the same with making chain mail. Of all the arts I've ever studied, chain mail is the one I have the most mastery of. But perhaps, deep down, I don't want to spend my life making chain mail. As much as i love it, and as good as I am, I don't think it is my life long calling.
When I have freed time, I think a lot about the future, what I want to do, and what I need to do now to get there. But the enduring problem is that I do not know what I want to do, and thus I have no idea what must be done to get there. I like teaching, but I do not want to spend my life teaching English to foreigners. The two most fulfilling activities, I find, are socializing, and writing.
Why socializing? Is it because we are just such social creatures, that this is an instinct as intrinsic as food and sex? Or is it something more personal to me, that I am as an individual more prone towards social interaction. I think the answer is yes. I do think we are social by nature, but not intrinsically so. The existence of introverts supports this idea. I had a very good conversation with a self proclaimed introvert over the summer who explained to me that introversion has nothing to do with shyness. "Introversion is the seeking of satisfaction within, while extroversion is the seeking of satisfaction without", she said. This makes sense. And now, put in a situation where my ability to interact with others is greatly limited, I have to admit that introversion seems like the wiser philosophy. And while I can certainly be shy at times, alas, I am an extrovert.
And why writing? Well, certainly in part, because it allows me to stay in contact with all of you. So it fulfills, in part, that extroverted tendency. But it goes beyond that, because even on the occasions that I have written privately, it has left me with the same feeling of satisfaction that writing to you, posting on my blog, gives me.
I've noticed that I think best while I write. My thoughts are chaotic and jumbled and hard to follow. But when I put them down in writing, it helps me to organize and understand them. I have my greatest realizations and understandings only while I am writing. Does it seem like I have these diatribes planned out? I certainly do not. They flow from my mind and my fingertips as they are happening, surprising me just as much, if not more so, then they do you. Maybe that is the source of my love of English, which I have come to embrace even more so since becoming a teacher of the subject. Were it not for the written word, I'm not sure I would know how to think properly.
So playing flute, and drawing, and even making chain mail, are not how I want to spend my life. They entertain me, but they do not fulfill my need for progress. And yet writing and socializing do. Writing, and people. My two greatest passions I suppose. It seems, at this moment in time at least, that my destiny must be to write about people. And so I shall, as much as possible.
In general, I plan and intend to post un update to my blog every Sunday. If you have a desire to be a regular reader, Sunday is probably a good time to check it. This mid week post is simply a matter of the fact that I had too much on my mind not to express. And, of course, because I needed to write. Besides, I missed a posting on at least one Sunday, so I owed you guys one.
Oh, and please, feel free to comment on my actual blog. I've received a number of comments on Facebook, and it's become apparent that a number of people actually read this thing, but posting comments on the blog itself is still much appreciated. It's kind of like proof, ya know? And I promise I'll respond.
Until next time
-Mongoose
I think it works something like a seashell. And keep in mind that I don't really know why a seashell makes the noise it does when you hold it up to your ear, but I'm pretty sure it has to do with its shape and the way it funnels vibrations. My best guess is that this city is so vast, and so busy, that the noises of the people from all around just echo off of the buildings and travel down the alleyways, creating the sense that there's a large group of people shouting just a few hundred feet away.
Sometimes I feel like coming here was a mistake. And sometimes I've never been happier. Sometimes the concept of spending a whole year here seems unbearable. And sometimes it's not enough time. This is the most bipolar experience I've ever had in my life. As I'm starting to make more and more friends, and as work is getting easier, the difficulty is revealing itself to be a lack of anything meaningful to do with my free time.
The first difficulty was the stress of work, and how quickly I was expected to just do it. As that started to ease, the next difficulty was loneliness, and not knowing anyone, not having anyone to eat or drink with. And now that problem too has faded. But when I come home from work, and I have my evening, I'm not sure how to fill it.
I've been watching a lot of movies. That's a distraction, but it's not been fulfilling. I've been working on a chain mail project for a very special person, but aside from that I'm surprised to find the prospect of chain mail less appealing and less fulfilling then it was back home. I'm not sure exactly why that is yet. I have my flute, and my oil pastels, and I've been drawing and playing, which is fulfilling temporarily, but doesn't leave me with a satisfied feeling of accomplishment when I'm done. Again, I'm not sure why.
I think it has something to do with what I actually want to do with my life. Drawing and making music are nice hobbies, but they aren't what I want to do with my life. Perhaps it is the same with making chain mail. Of all the arts I've ever studied, chain mail is the one I have the most mastery of. But perhaps, deep down, I don't want to spend my life making chain mail. As much as i love it, and as good as I am, I don't think it is my life long calling.
When I have freed time, I think a lot about the future, what I want to do, and what I need to do now to get there. But the enduring problem is that I do not know what I want to do, and thus I have no idea what must be done to get there. I like teaching, but I do not want to spend my life teaching English to foreigners. The two most fulfilling activities, I find, are socializing, and writing.
Why socializing? Is it because we are just such social creatures, that this is an instinct as intrinsic as food and sex? Or is it something more personal to me, that I am as an individual more prone towards social interaction. I think the answer is yes. I do think we are social by nature, but not intrinsically so. The existence of introverts supports this idea. I had a very good conversation with a self proclaimed introvert over the summer who explained to me that introversion has nothing to do with shyness. "Introversion is the seeking of satisfaction within, while extroversion is the seeking of satisfaction without", she said. This makes sense. And now, put in a situation where my ability to interact with others is greatly limited, I have to admit that introversion seems like the wiser philosophy. And while I can certainly be shy at times, alas, I am an extrovert.
And why writing? Well, certainly in part, because it allows me to stay in contact with all of you. So it fulfills, in part, that extroverted tendency. But it goes beyond that, because even on the occasions that I have written privately, it has left me with the same feeling of satisfaction that writing to you, posting on my blog, gives me.
I've noticed that I think best while I write. My thoughts are chaotic and jumbled and hard to follow. But when I put them down in writing, it helps me to organize and understand them. I have my greatest realizations and understandings only while I am writing. Does it seem like I have these diatribes planned out? I certainly do not. They flow from my mind and my fingertips as they are happening, surprising me just as much, if not more so, then they do you. Maybe that is the source of my love of English, which I have come to embrace even more so since becoming a teacher of the subject. Were it not for the written word, I'm not sure I would know how to think properly.
So playing flute, and drawing, and even making chain mail, are not how I want to spend my life. They entertain me, but they do not fulfill my need for progress. And yet writing and socializing do. Writing, and people. My two greatest passions I suppose. It seems, at this moment in time at least, that my destiny must be to write about people. And so I shall, as much as possible.
In general, I plan and intend to post un update to my blog every Sunday. If you have a desire to be a regular reader, Sunday is probably a good time to check it. This mid week post is simply a matter of the fact that I had too much on my mind not to express. And, of course, because I needed to write. Besides, I missed a posting on at least one Sunday, so I owed you guys one.
Oh, and please, feel free to comment on my actual blog. I've received a number of comments on Facebook, and it's become apparent that a number of people actually read this thing, but posting comments on the blog itself is still much appreciated. It's kind of like proof, ya know? And I promise I'll respond.
Until next time
-Mongoose
Sunday, September 11, 2011
History and Culture
The Korean War ended on July 27, 1953, officially establishing two separate governments on the Korean peninsula, those of the North and of the South. I think the majority of Americans are at least somewhat familiar with the Korean war, though it does seem to receive somewhat less focus and discussion than many of the other wars we have been involved in. Still, you will be hard pressed to find someone that doesn't know about North and South Korea, and the basic story of how that happened.
But from the end of the Korean War, and thus the end of American involvement, I think you will find that very few Americans know just about anything regarding the history and development of The Republic of South Korea.
I imagine that the common view in the west would go something like this: "South Korea established an independent democratic government at the end of the Korean War. Obviously, it must have been an effective government, because today South Korea is the worlds 15th largest economy, and a thriving developed nation with civil rights and social liberties." It is more or less the assumption I made prior to researching it, and the view essentially draws a strait line between the two bits of information most of us have, namely South Korea right after the war and South Korea today.
But the line from then to now was far from strait. First off, the Republic that controls South Korea today is not the same one that was established after the war. It is an entirely separate constitution and set of laws from that government. In fact, the current Republic of South Korea is the 6th Republic to control the country, the 6th constitution established in the past 60 years. Think about that for just one second. Since the end of the Korean War, a given established government in South Korea has lasted, on average, about ten years.
So, It is the summer of 1953, South Korea and North Korea have signed an armistice, and agreed to split the peninsula in half. In South Korea, the fight was led primarily by a man named Syngmann Rhee, and he was the one to officially establish and declare The Republic of South Korea. Elections were held, and he was elected as the first president of South Korea. However, although his reign started out as democratic, it quickly turned autocratic. He spent the majority of the 1950's attempting to establish his authority, increase his power, and hang on to his position. He forced through a change in the constitution eliminating a two term limit on the presidency. He rigged elections. Towards the end of his presidency he was executing political opponents, and quelling uprisings by massacring his own people. Of course, we all know what this type of governing inevitably leads to, and eventually massive protests and demonstrations forced him to step down. He resigned in 1960 and lived out his remaining years in exile.
At the end of the Korean war, South Korea was essentially a third world country. Over the course of his seven years in power, he did nothing to change this. In 1960, Nominal GDP per capita (basically GDP divided by population) was around $70.
The second republic established a more heavily parliamentary government, in which the prime minister is more important than the president. There's really very little to say about the Second Republic, because it lasted a very short amount of time. It made no attempt at political suppression whatsoever, which is a good thing. Suddenly people had the right to demonstrate and express their voice, and hold protests. And they did. A lot. You see, the second republic failed in just about every way to handle the poor living conditions, manage the social unrest, or make peoples lives better in any significant way. And this was at a time when things were really very bad, and so people weren't willing to wait all that long. A military coup overthrew the Second Republic less than a year later, in 1961.
The military over throw of the Second Republic was led by General Park Chung-hee. This becomes an extremely important man in recent Korean History. He initiated the coup out of concern that the rapidly destabilizing government would soon collapse with disastrous consequences. Upon the success of the coup, he declared martial law, with the promise that a democratic government would be established within two years. He kept this promise, and a new constitution was drafted and established, and the Third Republic began with elections in 1963.
General Park himself won the elections, albeit by a narrow margin. In 1963 the Nominal GDP per capita was around $110. Park promised that within a decade, every Korean citizen would have a refrigerator and a car, luxuries that most people at the time wouldn't have dared to dream of. But Park set to work with a series of economic developments that positioned Korea as an international exporter. He positioned the country as a center for oil refining, and as a producer of metals to be used in manufacturing. Under Park, the country grew into one of the largest international producers and seller of ships.
That story specifically is actually rather amusing. The Koreans didn't know how to build ships. No one had ever done it before. There was no one with experience, no one with the equipment, and they didn't even have a proper dock or ship yard. Park basically bought all the parts along with what essentially amounted to a construction manual from another country, and set a team to work figuring out how to build industrial grade ships from scratch. He then set a second team to work building a dock for the boat at the same time. They build the boat in two pieces, and then went to assemble it, but the pieces didn't fit together. So they had to go back to work hammering and adjusting and what not. Finally, they got everything done, and put it in the water to see if it would float. And it did! Five years later, South Korea was one of the largest international exporters of industrial ships, and considered an expert on the matter.
And that is what Park did for the country. He had vision, and direction, and drive. But he also worked the people incredibly hard. The crews mentioned in the ship building story were working 20 hours a day for months on end. And that wasn't a rare occurrence under Park. Working conditions were terrible everywhere. And while wealth was finally beginning to flow into the country, park forcibly kept wages relatively low in order to maintain South Koreas viability as a major exporter. Cheap labor means cheap goods, which means high demand.
Politically, he too slowly degraded into an autocrat. He was reelected into his second term in 1967. Like Rhee, he then forced a measure through parliament that would allow him to seek a third term. This angered many people, and there were demonstrations. Still, somehow he managed to win a third election n 1971. Social unrest was growing again, and parliament was discussing ways of removing him from office. In 1972 he responded by declaring a state of national emergency, and with the reinstitution of martial law.
After establishing martial law, Park rewrites the constitution, essentially establishing himself as president for life, and giving him control over parliament. This new constitution also marks the beginning of the Fourth Republic, which was really a republic in name only. For the next 7 years he continues to grow the economy while keeping wages low and working conditions poor. He reacts to political opposition with an iron fist. Social unrest continues to increase until his eventual assassination by the head of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency in 1979.
Park started off with good intentions, I am sure. And in truth, he did a lot of good things for the country. By the end of his 18 year reign across two separate constitutions and two instances of martial law, the Nominal GDP per capita had increased from just over $100 to $1795.
After the assassination, everything was chaos for a little while. The prime minister because president, but there was another military coup six days later. There were demonstrations and protests, a couple of massacres, some rearranging of people in office, and the constitution was rewritten yet again, thus establishing the beginning of the 5th republic.
A man named Chun is the president now, and has once again seized his position with military force. The Koreans are sort of tired of this, and don't trust him. He promises to only serve a single 7 year term, and starts to do many good things for the country. He improves working conditions, and ceases to force down wages. He builds museums and parks. The Korean economy flourishes. Still, because he seized power by military force, at the end of his term, the Koreans demand change. They want direct elections again, and there are protests and demonstrations. He adheres to the demands of the people, rewrites the constitution to allow for direct elections once again, and steps down from office in 1989. This marks the end of the 5th republic. In 1989 the Nominal GDP per capita had risen to $5551.
Finally in the 90's we see the beginning of the Korea we know today. For the first time in 40 years the government is run by a civilian, rather then military, leader. I think there have been 5 separate presidents over the past 20 years, though I won't go into detail on them. The important thing is that in the 6th Republic, South Korea has finally achieved a secure, democratic, developed society. Economic growth took off like crazy in the 90,s. By 2007 Nominal GDP per capita had hit the $20,000 milestone that some economist somewhere said was significant for some reason. Yay Korea!
So why have I dedicated a rather long blogpost to this topic? Why is it important to me? Because it helps me understand the culture of the society I am currently living in. That's a very intense and chaotic recent history. That's a lot of political strife to go through. And a large part of the population that lives here remembers it! The grandparents of the children I teach are the ones that worked the brutal hours under the oppressive regime of Park. The parents of the people my age are the ones who protested and demonstrated under different regimes, enduring brutal denial of civil rights and occasionally large massacres of civilians. All of this happened here not all that long ago. The people my age are the first generation in Korea to not remember any of that. Yet still, in their life time the Nominal GDP per capita has quadrupled, bringing wealth in their adult lives that they hardly could have imagined as children.
And the result, culturally, is that Korea currently exists in a state not dissimilar to the American 1950's. Having achieved an end to decades of struggle and hardship, and having obtained wealth and prosperity, maintaining the status quo is incredibly important here. They don't want social strife, and they don't desire cultural change. The result is an incredibly high emphasis placed on social norms, and the proper way to act. There is a lot of peer pressure towards being normal, and fitting in. The culture is somewhat materialistic, and much status is placed in brand-name clothing and electronics. Much more than in the states, if you can believe that.
But all the positive aspects of the 1950's also exists in Korean culture. There's a friendliness and a willingness to help each other. They have all the sweet but cheesy family values that we long ago stopped truly living by in the states. It's also an honorable society, with a relatively low crime rate. I was here for two weeks before I saw a single police car. And I still haven't seen a second one. Imagine spending a month in New York City and only seeing a single cop. It'd be weird, huh?
There's a place near one of the subway stations where I can barrow a bike for the day. I just show the guy my I.D. and he gives me a bike. I don't have to pay, or give him any information, or even leave my I.D. with him. I just get a free bike for the day with no questions asked. I'm supposed to bring it back by 6:00 PM. I asked my coworker what happens if I don't bring it back in time. She said, "Wow, um, I imagine he would probably call the police assuming something had happened to you." That's right, he would call the police not because he'd think that I stole the bike. No, his assumption would be that I'm in mortal peril. That's Korea for you.
But, I wonder what will happen as this younger generation, the one that I am teaching, grows up. They are the first generation to be born into wealth, and to have the freedom to obtain knowledge that the Internet provides. I imagine they will be more individualistic and culturally independent than the generations before them. And with every successive generation, the culture will become more removed from the pain and fear that living under an oppressive regime creates. So, Korea may be a bit in the 1950's right now, but I imagine that their 1960's are on the horizon.
The interesting thing is though, that while the Korean culture is a bit socially limiting, it really works and functions much better than our 1950's did. Well, to be fair they don't have Jim Crow laws and oppressive gender expectations to deal with. So, perhaps their 60's will be less full of strife, and more like an awakening to individuality. Or perhaps I'm wrong and the status quo will be maintained for quite a long time.
In any case, it's a fascinating culture, and I'm very much honored to have the opportunity to observe it. Until next time.
-Mongoose
But from the end of the Korean War, and thus the end of American involvement, I think you will find that very few Americans know just about anything regarding the history and development of The Republic of South Korea.
I imagine that the common view in the west would go something like this: "South Korea established an independent democratic government at the end of the Korean War. Obviously, it must have been an effective government, because today South Korea is the worlds 15th largest economy, and a thriving developed nation with civil rights and social liberties." It is more or less the assumption I made prior to researching it, and the view essentially draws a strait line between the two bits of information most of us have, namely South Korea right after the war and South Korea today.
But the line from then to now was far from strait. First off, the Republic that controls South Korea today is not the same one that was established after the war. It is an entirely separate constitution and set of laws from that government. In fact, the current Republic of South Korea is the 6th Republic to control the country, the 6th constitution established in the past 60 years. Think about that for just one second. Since the end of the Korean War, a given established government in South Korea has lasted, on average, about ten years.
So, It is the summer of 1953, South Korea and North Korea have signed an armistice, and agreed to split the peninsula in half. In South Korea, the fight was led primarily by a man named Syngmann Rhee, and he was the one to officially establish and declare The Republic of South Korea. Elections were held, and he was elected as the first president of South Korea. However, although his reign started out as democratic, it quickly turned autocratic. He spent the majority of the 1950's attempting to establish his authority, increase his power, and hang on to his position. He forced through a change in the constitution eliminating a two term limit on the presidency. He rigged elections. Towards the end of his presidency he was executing political opponents, and quelling uprisings by massacring his own people. Of course, we all know what this type of governing inevitably leads to, and eventually massive protests and demonstrations forced him to step down. He resigned in 1960 and lived out his remaining years in exile.
At the end of the Korean war, South Korea was essentially a third world country. Over the course of his seven years in power, he did nothing to change this. In 1960, Nominal GDP per capita (basically GDP divided by population) was around $70.
The second republic established a more heavily parliamentary government, in which the prime minister is more important than the president. There's really very little to say about the Second Republic, because it lasted a very short amount of time. It made no attempt at political suppression whatsoever, which is a good thing. Suddenly people had the right to demonstrate and express their voice, and hold protests. And they did. A lot. You see, the second republic failed in just about every way to handle the poor living conditions, manage the social unrest, or make peoples lives better in any significant way. And this was at a time when things were really very bad, and so people weren't willing to wait all that long. A military coup overthrew the Second Republic less than a year later, in 1961.
The military over throw of the Second Republic was led by General Park Chung-hee. This becomes an extremely important man in recent Korean History. He initiated the coup out of concern that the rapidly destabilizing government would soon collapse with disastrous consequences. Upon the success of the coup, he declared martial law, with the promise that a democratic government would be established within two years. He kept this promise, and a new constitution was drafted and established, and the Third Republic began with elections in 1963.
General Park himself won the elections, albeit by a narrow margin. In 1963 the Nominal GDP per capita was around $110. Park promised that within a decade, every Korean citizen would have a refrigerator and a car, luxuries that most people at the time wouldn't have dared to dream of. But Park set to work with a series of economic developments that positioned Korea as an international exporter. He positioned the country as a center for oil refining, and as a producer of metals to be used in manufacturing. Under Park, the country grew into one of the largest international producers and seller of ships.
That story specifically is actually rather amusing. The Koreans didn't know how to build ships. No one had ever done it before. There was no one with experience, no one with the equipment, and they didn't even have a proper dock or ship yard. Park basically bought all the parts along with what essentially amounted to a construction manual from another country, and set a team to work figuring out how to build industrial grade ships from scratch. He then set a second team to work building a dock for the boat at the same time. They build the boat in two pieces, and then went to assemble it, but the pieces didn't fit together. So they had to go back to work hammering and adjusting and what not. Finally, they got everything done, and put it in the water to see if it would float. And it did! Five years later, South Korea was one of the largest international exporters of industrial ships, and considered an expert on the matter.
And that is what Park did for the country. He had vision, and direction, and drive. But he also worked the people incredibly hard. The crews mentioned in the ship building story were working 20 hours a day for months on end. And that wasn't a rare occurrence under Park. Working conditions were terrible everywhere. And while wealth was finally beginning to flow into the country, park forcibly kept wages relatively low in order to maintain South Koreas viability as a major exporter. Cheap labor means cheap goods, which means high demand.
Politically, he too slowly degraded into an autocrat. He was reelected into his second term in 1967. Like Rhee, he then forced a measure through parliament that would allow him to seek a third term. This angered many people, and there were demonstrations. Still, somehow he managed to win a third election n 1971. Social unrest was growing again, and parliament was discussing ways of removing him from office. In 1972 he responded by declaring a state of national emergency, and with the reinstitution of martial law.
After establishing martial law, Park rewrites the constitution, essentially establishing himself as president for life, and giving him control over parliament. This new constitution also marks the beginning of the Fourth Republic, which was really a republic in name only. For the next 7 years he continues to grow the economy while keeping wages low and working conditions poor. He reacts to political opposition with an iron fist. Social unrest continues to increase until his eventual assassination by the head of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency in 1979.
Park started off with good intentions, I am sure. And in truth, he did a lot of good things for the country. By the end of his 18 year reign across two separate constitutions and two instances of martial law, the Nominal GDP per capita had increased from just over $100 to $1795.
After the assassination, everything was chaos for a little while. The prime minister because president, but there was another military coup six days later. There were demonstrations and protests, a couple of massacres, some rearranging of people in office, and the constitution was rewritten yet again, thus establishing the beginning of the 5th republic.
A man named Chun is the president now, and has once again seized his position with military force. The Koreans are sort of tired of this, and don't trust him. He promises to only serve a single 7 year term, and starts to do many good things for the country. He improves working conditions, and ceases to force down wages. He builds museums and parks. The Korean economy flourishes. Still, because he seized power by military force, at the end of his term, the Koreans demand change. They want direct elections again, and there are protests and demonstrations. He adheres to the demands of the people, rewrites the constitution to allow for direct elections once again, and steps down from office in 1989. This marks the end of the 5th republic. In 1989 the Nominal GDP per capita had risen to $5551.
Finally in the 90's we see the beginning of the Korea we know today. For the first time in 40 years the government is run by a civilian, rather then military, leader. I think there have been 5 separate presidents over the past 20 years, though I won't go into detail on them. The important thing is that in the 6th Republic, South Korea has finally achieved a secure, democratic, developed society. Economic growth took off like crazy in the 90,s. By 2007 Nominal GDP per capita had hit the $20,000 milestone that some economist somewhere said was significant for some reason. Yay Korea!
So why have I dedicated a rather long blogpost to this topic? Why is it important to me? Because it helps me understand the culture of the society I am currently living in. That's a very intense and chaotic recent history. That's a lot of political strife to go through. And a large part of the population that lives here remembers it! The grandparents of the children I teach are the ones that worked the brutal hours under the oppressive regime of Park. The parents of the people my age are the ones who protested and demonstrated under different regimes, enduring brutal denial of civil rights and occasionally large massacres of civilians. All of this happened here not all that long ago. The people my age are the first generation in Korea to not remember any of that. Yet still, in their life time the Nominal GDP per capita has quadrupled, bringing wealth in their adult lives that they hardly could have imagined as children.
And the result, culturally, is that Korea currently exists in a state not dissimilar to the American 1950's. Having achieved an end to decades of struggle and hardship, and having obtained wealth and prosperity, maintaining the status quo is incredibly important here. They don't want social strife, and they don't desire cultural change. The result is an incredibly high emphasis placed on social norms, and the proper way to act. There is a lot of peer pressure towards being normal, and fitting in. The culture is somewhat materialistic, and much status is placed in brand-name clothing and electronics. Much more than in the states, if you can believe that.
But all the positive aspects of the 1950's also exists in Korean culture. There's a friendliness and a willingness to help each other. They have all the sweet but cheesy family values that we long ago stopped truly living by in the states. It's also an honorable society, with a relatively low crime rate. I was here for two weeks before I saw a single police car. And I still haven't seen a second one. Imagine spending a month in New York City and only seeing a single cop. It'd be weird, huh?
There's a place near one of the subway stations where I can barrow a bike for the day. I just show the guy my I.D. and he gives me a bike. I don't have to pay, or give him any information, or even leave my I.D. with him. I just get a free bike for the day with no questions asked. I'm supposed to bring it back by 6:00 PM. I asked my coworker what happens if I don't bring it back in time. She said, "Wow, um, I imagine he would probably call the police assuming something had happened to you." That's right, he would call the police not because he'd think that I stole the bike. No, his assumption would be that I'm in mortal peril. That's Korea for you.
But, I wonder what will happen as this younger generation, the one that I am teaching, grows up. They are the first generation to be born into wealth, and to have the freedom to obtain knowledge that the Internet provides. I imagine they will be more individualistic and culturally independent than the generations before them. And with every successive generation, the culture will become more removed from the pain and fear that living under an oppressive regime creates. So, Korea may be a bit in the 1950's right now, but I imagine that their 1960's are on the horizon.
The interesting thing is though, that while the Korean culture is a bit socially limiting, it really works and functions much better than our 1950's did. Well, to be fair they don't have Jim Crow laws and oppressive gender expectations to deal with. So, perhaps their 60's will be less full of strife, and more like an awakening to individuality. Or perhaps I'm wrong and the status quo will be maintained for quite a long time.
In any case, it's a fascinating culture, and I'm very much honored to have the opportunity to observe it. Until next time.
-Mongoose
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