A Dark Alley

In my recent writings, I have made comments about how I don't understand and even disagree with some of the ways in which Koreans do business. This was not meant to bash Koreans and their culture. I was just expressing my discomfort and frustration that comes when adapting to a different way of life. Plus, you have to remember that I come from what is probably the most ethnocentric country in the world; I can't shed all that has been instilled in me. I do notice more feelings of discomfort from fellow Yankees than those of other backgrounds, though. I think we all find discomfort or confusion when traveling to foreign lands, but actually living in another country is a little different. Things like setting up a bank account, working, buying a cell phone, doing laundry, and any other tasks and/or chores that come along with modern life are not commonly experienced by the traveler. Immersing yourself in the everyday life of another culture can definitely be humbling, frustrating, and rewarding at the same time. I'm still relatively new here and have plenty more things to experience, but I do feel as though I have experienced things I didn't even imagine when initially deciding to come here. Some of these things have been amazingly frustrating, but these difficult situations are also what have made this adventure unique and special. So when I talk about culture clash and awkward experiences, I am only working through my ethnocentrism and frustrations for you, my audience. Hey, I think some of it can be pretty darn funny too.

Here's a good one for you. I was walking to a soccer field at a nearby elementary school with a friend the other day, but both of us only had a vague idea of the exact location. We took a right down an alley off of the main road only to be met by rows of small rooms on either side of the road with prostitutes sitting in each doorway. While the sight was ubelievably surprising and quite overwhelming, we had to focus on finding this soccer field. Using common logic, we decided to ask one of the street ladies where the elementary school was. There's something about asking a hooker for directions to an elementary school that just doesn't seem right, and I think she immediately realized that. She began to laugh from the gut while she screamed across the street what I can only believe was something like, "Can you believe these stupid whiteboys are asking me, a sex worker, how to get to an elementary school?" After everyone had a good laugh, one of the maddams in the area (an old and weathered woman) pointed in the direction of the school and hurried us off. I think I might go back and ask them if they can show me where the nearest Synagauge is.