dollop of solipsism

saturday evening i watched the third installment of BBC’s wild china series. from the episode titled ”tibet,” i learned that every year, a pilgrimage takes place at the foot of mount kailash, a peak in the tibetan himalayas. legend has it that it is the center of the world: “it is located at the heart of six mountain ranges symbolizing a lotus, and the four rivers flowing from kailash flow to the four quarters of the world and divide the world into four regions.” out of respect to buddhist and hindu beliefs, there have been no recorded attempts to climb mount kailash.

thousands of people make a pilgrimage to this spiritual center every year, and walk around (or circumambulate) the mountain once. according to hinduism, shiva, the destroyer of sorrow and evil, resides at top of the peak. by completing a full circle around the mountain, worshipers believe that their sins will be washed away and good luck will follow.

as i watched this ritual play out on my computer screen, for the briefest moment, i pictured myself there. i pictured myself disappearing from my normal life, for a week or so, to make this trip to mount kailash. just one day, disappear, with nary a trace.

this thought seems to confirm my recent bout of dissatisfaction with my life. that sounds dramatic, i know. i’m not depressed, i feel…unsettled. of course i’m not going to hop on a plane to tibet; i’m a dependable son and brother and worker and boyfriend. however, it does disconcert me to know that, well, i wanted to embark on this journey for a split second.

what attracts me to this pilgrimage is the idea that one can shed one’s sins. i don’t think i’m a sinful person. i may think sinful thoughts, but i don’t think i behave in a sinful manner. i try to be a good person, but know fully well that i’m a bad person. that’s not resorting to what’s easy; that’s being honest. essentially, i feel sort of like the giver in the giver. he tells jonas that he’s “so weighted” with the memories of the world. i’m not weighted with sins, or even memories; i’m weighted with emotions.

the thought of trekking around “the pillar of the world” to disburden myself is too fantastic to believe. i am reminded of two scenes, both from wong kar-wai movies, that feature characters who let go of their demons.

the first scene is from happy together, an insanely gorgeous film that stars tony leung chiu-wai, the late leslie cheung, and chang chen. tony and leslie travel to buenos aires, where they finally end their volatile relationship. tony then meets chang chen and they become friends. chang chen, who is sensitive to hearing (maybe he experiences “hearing-beyond”), offers tony a tape recorder. he tells him that in ushuaia, the capital city of the argentine province tierra del fuego (“the land of fire”), there is a lighthouse at “the end of the world” where people can dump their emotional troubles. at the end of the film, chang chen reaches said lighthouse and plays the cassette tape. all he hears are quiet sobs.

it is a beautiful moment in the film. the main character’s remorse, guilt, loneliness, sorrow…all of those feelings are taken away by the wind. we have endured all that he’s endured, and in that moment, we feel like some of the weight is lessened, like a part of him has been resolved.

the other scene i’m reminded of is equally touching.

in in the mood for love, tony leung chiu-wai (again) has an emotional affair with maggie cheung. both want to continue on with the affair, but both are afraid to. many lonely years pass, and in order for tony to move on, he follows an old tradition:

in the old days, if someone had a secret they didn’t want to share…you know what they did? they went up a mountain, found a tree, carved a hole in it, and whispered the secret into the hole. then they covered it with mud. and leave the secret there forever.

at the end of the film, we see tony visiting cambodia’s angkor wat. there, he finds a hole in the ancient temple’s walls, puts his mouth to the hole, and whispers into it. we don’t know exactly what he says, but we can guess. his remorse. his guilt. his loneliness. his sorrow.

i remember a recent oprah episode with guest ellen burstyn. burstyn went on the show to talk about the years of abuse she endured when she was younger. she said something that sticks with me: in order for her to overcome her pain-filled past, she had to “re-program” her brain, her software. because she had always been a victim (of her mother’s and husband’s abuse), it was difficult for her to have a healthy relationship with a man; she was always thinking like a victim. it took years of therapy and work in order for her to “re-program” herself into the strong woman she is today. i kind of understand what she means by “re-programming.”

i’ve never been abused. i’ve never had anything really bad happen to me. i’ve been lucky that way. and i’m not equating my problems to people who have suffered death and sickness and violence and poverty; i’m not. all i know is that sometimes, i really feel like i want to become a whole other person. i want to be less afraid of things (did you know that i’m afraid of almost everything?). i want to be a generous person (i am selfish). i want to be an uncomplicated person. for years and years, i thought of myself as this complex, unique individual with success and glory in his trajectory. nowadays, i almost just want to…be ordinary. does that sound like giving up? [or maybe—just maybe—i'm in want of finding that girl, who stands before me in midstream, alone and still, gazing out to sea.]

something in my brain is in need of a jumpstart. confessing my sins (whatever they may be), discarding my fear, taking responsibility for my actions, apologizing to people i’ve wronged (including myself)—these are the things i think i would accomplish if i journey to mount kailash, ushuaia, or angkor wat. it’s a lovely and pretentious thought, isn’t it? i’m perfectly aware that one moment of clarity doesn’t mean that i’ll be “re-programmed” for good or become a completely different person. but wouldn’t that be a most exhilarating start?

has anyone else seen these ads for the new mac snack wrap from corporate giant mcdonald’s? they feature a small-ish korean man, who goes by the name of ”k.j. kim,” touted as the “world’s smallest food architect.” at first i thought it was…well, i just thought it was weird, so i clicked on the ad. it took me to the home page of the mac snack wrap:

on the right side of the menu, one can “learn more about the” architect. there, you can see his biography (he refers to himself as a “genius”), his credentials (he graduated with a bachelor of food architecture at the culinary architect institute of america), and his portfolio (he was on the cover of food architect monthly).

at first, i thought everything was real, so i googled the name “K.J. Kim,” which brought up a very real website for k.j. kim design. after a few minutes of browsing, though, i realized that the real k.j. kim is a woman, which makes the whole “world’s smallest food architect” campaign just that, an advertising campaign. but…it’s not funny. and it makes me wonder why the “spokesperson” for the new mac snack wrap is a “small” korean man.

i mean, i’m not one of those people who plays the “racism” card every chance he gets; actually, i hate people who label everything and everybody racist. your mom is racist (actually, my mom is racist). i don’t think this advertisement is racist. i think if you put a white man in the ad, or a black man in the ad, it would still be a stupid ad. it’s not racist, it’s just stupid.

but the question does linger in my head: why a korean man? are asian people just funny-looking? especially stocky, nerdy, bulldog types? like, is it funny to call us “small”? i don’t get it. i mean, if the product was like their new yellow cream pie or something, then yeah, that would be racist (but funny). but this snack wrap? i’m dumbfounded. somebody ’splain it to me.

—

note: after hitting the “publish” button, i realized that i was on the edge of thinking like a victim. it’s just an advertisement. for a product. and the man in the ad just happens to be korean. the model could’ve been a nigerian or an indian or a swede or a german…i should be glad that an asian-looking person got the job.

it’s hard to have my thoughts be focalised through a color-free lens.

i am a big fan of cake, and this was a good one. inside the vanilla shell we found a simple, multi-layered chocolate cake. the saucer on the bottom? pure white chocolate—a nice surprise that was. a lovely way to celebrate our two year anniversary.

during the last week of my vacation, i had the joyous opportunity of having dinner with two of my favorite people of all-time, ms. berner (my high school english teacher / acadec coach) and my friend gina. ms. berner (yes, i can’t kick the habit of calling her anything but ‘ms. berner’) chose zio’s, a wonderful, atmospheric italian restaurant near baybrook mall, as the place of gathering.

conversation was humorous, light, with occasional sprinkles of seriousness. we talked about our jobs, our goals, our dogs, our lives. fountain of wisdom ms. berner concluded that she finally feels like an adult, now that both of her parents have passed. most people feel like ‘adults’ when they have children, ms. berner added, but since she never underwent that particular rite of passage, she never felt like an adult, not really.

i didn’t quite understand what she was really saying. i mean, i understood the words and all that, but i’m in a completely different age group, so my brain can’t wrap around the concept of “parentlessness.” surely, it’s information i’ll shelve until a) i have children or b) my parents pass. however, i did start thinking about my own ’adulthood.’ i live on my own now. i’m not financially dependent on my parents. i don’t own a car, but in korea, i don’t need to. i pay off my student loans little by little. things are going…well.

when i was younger, maybe in middle school, i determined that the moment i ceased to be embarrassed by my parents would mark my transition into adulthood. according to that childish notion, and through my own admission, i am, right now, not an adult; i am still very embarrassed by my parents (but i am getting better at it).

in a couple of months, i’ll be turning twenty-seven, and that’s still considered young, right? i mean, i can still audition for american idol if i wanted to. i suppose a part of me doesn’t want to be seen as an adult. when a bartender asks to see my ID, i feel flattered and relieved. when a random ajumma calls out “학생!” to get my attention (학생 means student), i don’t correct her. and on event-less weekends, i eat tons of junk food as a challenge to my aging body, to see whether it can still handle the trans fats doing a number on my heart. maybe i’m not aging so gracefully.

later on at dinner, ms. berner asked about my family. “well, my little sister started high school. i’m convincing her to become a chef,” i said. ms. berner’s eyes sparkled, signaling approval. she replied, “so your older sister is a police officer, and your younger sister will be a chef, and you are—”

“a loser,” i interrupted. i don’t know what made me say that; i almost wanted to correct myself as the words fell out of my mouth. i didn’t mean that me teaching english in korea was a loser thing to do, i qualified. i just…didn’t expect my life to take this four-year detour. like many people, i expected my life to go a certain way. first i would go to college, then i would graduate, then i would get a job that would eventually help me land another job i was passionate about. and then i would find someone to be with and we would live in a great big house with a yard and a fence.

but it didn’t —is not happening—that way. for a second, i felt vulnerable and scared, like i had just woken up on the side of a road, my car lodged in a tree.

i’ve always wanted so many things. i still want all of those things. i still think that i can be an important person in the world. as i’m getting older, i’m discovering that it’s excruciatingly difficult to transition into the stage where you realize that no, my life is quite small, and no, you can’t do everything. it’s one thing to know that, on paper, you might just turn out to be an ordinary person. it’s another thing to actually become an ordinary person. like death. you know you’re going to die, but unless you’re actually dying…

after dinner, my beautiful friend gina and i drove into downtown houston. we ended up at meteor lounge, off of montrose blvd, a chic bar that has go-go dancers dancing on tables on a wednesday night. at one point, gina observed, “the ratio of go-go dancers to patrons is 1-to-1.” i counted: four patrons, four go-go dancers. so houston isn’t exactly happening on a wednesday night. i love my friend gina. she’s a year younger than i am, and we became friends in high school. i feel completely secure around her; there’s no competition, no grudges, no sense of judgment. i am myself when i’m with gina.

currently gina lives in austin with her significant other. she’s the hostess at the fancy-schmancy sushi restaurant, uchi (iron chef tyson cole’s baby), where she makes the big bucks ^^ and sometimes seats celebrities (kanye west!!! who, according to gina, is “really short”). that’s her day job. what she really is is a singer-songwriter. you can check out her music on her myspace page (i believe she does back-up for dana falconberry). anyway, that’s what i admire about her most; that she has the guts to pursue her dreams of becoming a recording artist.

on the drive back home, we turned on the radio. i had ranted about the worst. song. ever (which is, by the way, still #1 on iTunes), but gina had never heard of it. about a minute later, the reliable 104.1 krbe played this horrocious song and gina and i had a moment in her car. it was wonderful and liberating and the type of thing i’ll remember forever. us in her car, dancing to and mocking “party in the USA.” i felt like a kid.

—

i’m sitting in my room. it just turned midnight. it’s raining, and i’m listening to the sound of rain. i love the sound of rain. i’m dissatisfied with something.

sometimes, i’ll look at job postings in new york or houston. jobs in communications, media, publishing houses, etc. the city of houston is very into the idea of lofts right now. left and right, loft buildings are going up. i could get a job in media. i could live in a loft. i could have a dog and a car. i could run in a park.

but right now, i’m in daegu, south korea. it’s raining outside and i’m sitting in front of my laptop in my own mini-two-room apartment. there’s a park, subway line, bus stop all in walking distance. tomorrow morning, i’ll wake up and go to work. in the next room, the beloved sleeps. this is what i have right now.

these moments of dissatisfaction, i don’t know what they are.

the funny thing about the daydreams about living in a loft in houston…i picture myself living in houston and being a true metropolitan. slowly, this picture turns into me, the houstonian, daydreaming about living elsewhere…new york city, seoul, st. louis, taipei, etc. there are daydreams within my daydreams.

ultimately, i think i’ve come across an intersection. instead of there being two roads to choose from, there are a gazillion. where the traffic lights should be is a big question: what do you want. to do. with your life?

it’s about me being afraid to make decisions.

the twenties are such shit.

♦ today is our 2 year anniversary. it’s the longest i’ve been in a relationship, and a happy one at that. to celebrate, we’re treating ourselves to a nice buffet at seahouse tomorrow afternoon.

♦ next monday is the start of a three-week long cruise period at my school. and by cruise, i mean i can put my mind on cruise control at work. no gifted classes. no conversation classes. no co-teaching classes. just me monitoring self-studying students and catching up on some work.

the reasons for this calm period are: chuseok holidays are coming up, as well as the students’ mid-term exams. i know what you’re thinking; i just came back from vacation. but yes, i already need a breaky-break.

♦ just watched the season premiere of house. it’s excellent. also, just watched ra’mon get eliminated off of project runway. that was complete bullshit.

♦ i think lost deserves more emmys. mad men is good and all, but lost is better.

♦ i had a sobering dream last night. i was living at home in league city, texas, and i was no longer in a relationship. i woke up feeling empty and sad.

♦ getting back into an exercise routine is incredibly hard. no more gyms for me, i’ve decided. it’s gonna have to be this wonderfully scenic (and free to the public!) running track behind the gym. i love running; running is my sport. but getting there is like, blah.

i hope to take advantage of the ‘cruise’ period at my school and get myself 5 kilograms thinner. i haven’t worn any of my new dress pants i bought at express last month because i can’t fit into them. that is how fat i am now.

♦ i’m on the school homepage. however, they’ve put diana under the ‘english’ tab, and me under the ‘japanese’ and ‘chinese’ tabs. because i am both. and in the picture under the ‘japanese’ section, i’m reading an american time magazine. it all makes perfect sense.

♦ for the first time in a really long time, the korean won to US dollar exchange rate is below ₩1200. for many months it was floating in the lower to mid-₩1200 range. i hope this is a sign that everything will even out soon. this is very good news to us foreigners living in korea.

a continuation of a thread (?) i started months ago. consider this one of those, “argh! korea!” moments in the spirit of ebenezer scrooge.  

on thursday, i heard some distant drilling in the hallway outside of the main office. i ignored it at first but hours later, when i approached the guys’ bathroom to pee, there were a couple of manly middle-aged men with drills in hand, installing, i hypothesized, some light fixtures above the sinks. thus, i decided to hold it in for a little while longer (i can hold for, like, six hours).

it seems that construction at my school is an ongoing affair. during winter break, they installed central air-conditioning/heating units in all the classrooms (which is nice, but i personally adore those free-standing towers), and they’re currently remodeling the third floor of A building, transforming it into some mini-english village (my supervisor ms. suh has already informed me that i get to use one of the new labs for my co-teaching classes as soon as construction is finished). and this past summer, handrails got installed along the sides of all the staircases (who the hell uses them, i don’t know).

i’m looking forward to how the new multimedia classrooms will look, for sure, but at the same, i can’t help but feel that all these projects indicate money not very well spent. for starters, all the restrooms seriously need upgrades (there is one ajumma (i think?) who cleans all of these facilities (18+), bless her heart). my high school is a boarding school, so our students essentially live at the school 24/7 (minus weekends). we can all agree that teenagers are dirty, so maybe paying another cleaning lady to clean is an even better idea. and another thing, it would be lovely if i could rely on there being paper towels and soap in all the restrooms.

you know what else would be great? if all the students’ textbooks were paid for by the school. i have never heard of a korean school that provides books to students. the kids purchase their books, get to write in them, get to keep them, but…i also know that a lot of students burn their textbooks at the end of the school year. a month ago, i took my little sister kathy to her high school and we picked up all of her textbooks for the coming school year…biology, algebra, world geography, etc. it was a bit of a hassle, yet i wholeheartedly think that ‘borrowing’ the textbooks is a far better thing—for the parents, for the school, for the students, for the environment. right?

government funds and school budgets in korea are systems i haven’t quite wrapped my head around, so i pretty much have no right to complain about things i don’t understand. however, i do know that i need a friggin remote control for the beam projector in my classroom (which got lost sometime last winter). i would love to have this remote control so i don’t have to climb onto a chair every time i need to turn the darn thing on or off. i don’t need an entire multimedia lab to teach in; i just want that missing remote replaced. so really, what i’m asking for is that we maintain good conditions of the things we have, and eff the new things that’ll flaunt the school’s embarrassment of riches.

money could also be put into our school’s library. in fact, it would be great to construct a new building to hold a ginormous library next to our school. korean libraries are rather pitiful, in my opinion. i don’t know if it’s because koreans don’t read books or nobody writes books or whatever, but i don’t see libraries larger than my american house. and i’ve never seen a library outside of a school. plenty of bookstores, but no public libraries.

after another hour of damming the urine, i decided it was pee time. i walked into the restroom and was blinded (blinded!) by this metal box hanging on the wall above the sinks. there were neon-ish lights lining the roof of the bulky machine. inside the box hung toothbrushes and sat metal cups. for a second, i mistook the damn contraption for a miniature diner. upon closer inspection, i realized that it’s one of those refrigerator-type things (except it’s not cool, it’s warm) that keep the contents inside warm and sterile. “cool!” i said to myself. and then five seconds later, i got angry.

what the eff was this thing inside the effing bathroom? why was it necessary for this gadget to exist? who the eff uses this thing? apparently, between the time the installers finished installing the device and the time i walked in to pee, four male teachers had already secured spots for their toothbrushes. were their toothbrushes labeled? no. which means this: i am not putting my toothbrush in this metal box. for fear that someone disgusting will use my toothbrush, or worse, drop it on the ground and pick it up.

i love that koreans brush their teeth after every meal (they have to, what with all the garlic that is in korean food), i hate how they treat toothbrushes. in the students’ bathrooms, one can find dozens and dozens of toothbrushes clustered together in a few unlucky cups, the toothbrush heads exposed to insects and airborne poop particles. it is, in a word, disgusting.

i keep my toothbrush in a desk drawer, in one of those travel kits. that was money well spent.

♦ the ’short’ cycle of america’s next top model doesn’t suck (i’ve seen the first 3 episodes), which is very very surprising. but i guess anything compared to the twelfth cycle of the reality show looks golden.

a lot of my shows are coming back from the summer, and i’m glad about it, but it also means that i’ll need long periods of time devoted to just watching american tv. yay for entertaining me, nay for taking up my time.

♦ the summer weather is slowly turning into fall weather, and that is a great, wonderful thing. the humidity will dissipate, the sun will shine, clothes will dry quicker, and my a/c will be on leave until next june. there are few pleasures that compete with sleeping with the windows wide open; you can hear the neighborhood children playing, the cars in the distance, and also the birds. makes you feel…connected. plus, i get to wear sweater vests.

♦ you walk into an art gallery and see one of those large white paintings. there’s a whole lot of nothing on the canvas but there exists a three page explanation about the artwork on the information plaque. i imagine the artist sat there in front of his blank canvas for days on end before realizing that life is ultimately fruitless, and thus, nothing represents nothing. a blank canvas it is. right now, i feel like that artist.

first, a most memorable monologue from amc’s mad men.

don draper

advertising is based on one thing: happiness. and you know what happiness is?

don looks out the window into the setting sun, almost lost.

don draper (cont’d)

happiness is the smell of a new car…it’s freedom from fear. it’s a billboard on the side of the road that screams with reassurance that whatever you’re doing is okay…

(almost to himself)

you are okay.

recently, i’ve been a mad men addict. i completed the entire first two seasons and the new episodes of the third season in the span of, like, a week. it’s a good, stylish show about ad men in the 60s. with my recent post about brand loyalty, coupled with a recent (9 months ago is still recent, right?) book review of then we came to the end, i feel like it’s time to make a list (i love lists!) about tv commercials (or as they say in korea, CFs).

i watch a lot of tv, but i seldom pay attention to commercials. the following ten commercials are in no way the “best” commercials in terms of awards slash acclaim. no, they are just commercials that i happen to enjoy. you know, like you’re watching a tv show and a commercial break comes on, but you’re too lazy to get up off the couch, so you sit through the three (or in the case of korea, ten) minutes of advertisements, and think to yourself, “hm…if i’m sitting through this junk, at least i can catch ____ commercial again”… like that.

i gave myself a few minutes and wrote down the ten most memorable commercials i deemed worthy of mention. these are the ten (okay, so the last four equal one commercial…i cheated). here goes:

this diet coke tv ad makes me “happy.” the music is just right, and the actor is effortlessly charming (plus, he’s got some moves):

i love de beers diamond commercials. i love the vivaldi-esque soundtrack (it’s actually composed by karl jenkins—i know that because i played it in my middle school orchestra). i love the entire “shadows & light” campaign de beers did in the mid-90s. this is just one of the many:

everybody has seen this ikea “lamp” commercial. it’s funny. and i sometimes use it to teach the literary device “personification”:

my friend kate introduced me to this toyota prius commercial. i agree with her that this is totally beijing olympics-inspired (it’s also gizzorgeous). notice that the scenery is made up of people (!):

this public service announcement will take you back. i prefer this one to the one with just the frying pan and the egg and the ominous voice. i especially like the stern expression on the actor’s face towards the end, “any questions?” it’s kind of funny to me that i associate this psa with saturday morning cartoons on abc:

this is a brand new commercial from heineken. the significant other loves this commercial:

this song will get into your head, and in your head it will stay. forever:

also a new commercial. i love perfume ads (elizabeth taylor’s “these have always brought me luck” white diamonds commercial just missed the cut), and this dior campaign with charlize theron is loverly. this thirty second commercial beats anything the baz luhrmann-nicole kidman team ever did for chanel (no. 5):

i like dance music, and i like cars. this mitsubishi eclipse commercial has both, and it’s just cool:

the following four commercials are genius, and they’re all from the gap, back when people actually shopped at the gap. they all aired in the mid to late-nineties (i remember them from watching the 1996 atlanta olympics), and i recorded all of them on vhs using my tv/vcr (back when those were popular). love the music, love the editing, love the beautiful people (you can spot a pre-office, pre-i love you, man rashida jones in the “mellow yellow” ad), love the dancing (in the “khaki a-go-go” ad). these bring back memories! enjoy:

i don’t want to be one of those bloggers that frequently upload videos. but i can’t talk about advertisements without the commercials themselves, so just indulge me this one time. i shrunk the sizes of all the videos to make them less…overwhelming.

don is right. good commercials make me happy. and they make me feel okay.

observe—exhibit 1. this is 된장. in english, you would say doenjang (dwenjang). it is a traditional korean paste made from fermented soybeans. koreans eat this paste as a dipping sauce for fresh garlic cloves and peppers, and grilled meat. it is also used in a popular stew called 된장찌개, or doenjang jjigae. it has a strong odor and an equally strong bite.

observe—exhibit 2 (the girl on the left). she is what koreans call 된장녀 (doenjang-nyeo), the sauce paste plus the female suffix, nyeo. a doenjang-nyeo (soybean paste girl) is a shallow female who loves to pamper herself with starbucks coffee and designer goods. it is a term dreamed up by the very busy netizens (citizens of the internet) of south korea, who apparently have nothing better to do than to criticize others, especially celebrities, to make them commit suicide (but that is a whole other story).

this neologism popped up three years ago (summer of 2006) on the web, and seeped into the common vernacular. i’ve had many sessions with various korean teachers about the definition of “doenjang-nyeo” and the origins of the term. some believe the word is derived from a similar-sounding curse word, 젠장 (jen-jang), which roughly translates to “damn.” others believe the slang came out of doenjang’s semblance to shit (thus equating these girls to shit). either way, it doesn’t seem like the term is complimentary towards these women who love louis vuitton.

no doubt the popularity of “sex & the city” (the show is in constant syndication on korean cable tv) contributed to this okay-ness for women to spend money for fun. i’m all for young women splurging on themselves with designer goods (female empowerment!)—as long as they have the cash to back it up. however, the expression doenjang-nyeo applies specifically to single gals who depend on men to pay for their shopping. sorry ladies, but ms. carrie bradshaw never had to depend on a man to pay for her manolos.

yes, these girls are brainless, vain witches (maybe even gold diggers in training?) who would make great villains in romantic comedies, but that’s not what my post is about. koreans have a certain fascination with creating new terms to describe, or criticize, people. sometimes, the term is endearing, like 꽃미남 (ggot minam), which literally translates to “flower pretty boy.” this term came into popularity thanks to the enormously successful film the king and the clown (2005), which starred 이준기 (lee jun-ki), the quintessential flower pretty boy, an androgynous man with feminine features (btw: it is an excellent film).

this obsession with “girly, pretty boys (who are still manly)” still exists in korea, as was evident this past year with the phenomenon, boys over flowers. contrary to popular belief, a “ggot minam” is different from the english “metrosexual.” a metrosexual is merely a modern man who gives a flying flip about his appearance, who has a clean home and shiny kitchen appliances. a ggot minam is a tall, rail-thin korean boy with delicate features and permed hair, in skinny pants and vests. there is a difference!

there are a bevy of terms similar to “doenjang-nyeo” and “ggot minam.” i did some digging and discovered “jumma-rella” (줌마렐라, ajumma + cinderella: a married woman who has her own economic capacity and has a wonderful, positive personality), and “gaeddong-nyeo” (개똥녀, dog shit + girl: a girl who everybody hates (derived from the scenario in which a girl brings her pooch along on the subway, the pooch poops, and the girl doesn’t pick up the poop)).

this past week, in my teachers training course (i teach a group of korean non-english teachers english twice a week), we talked about marriage. i asked the teachers to list the qualities they want their partners to have. at the end of class, the teachers asked me for my preferences (they don’t know that i’m already taken)…it’s a tricky thing to answer, but i was as honest as i could be. i said i didn’t want a person who was more physically attractive than me. i want someone who is smarter than i am. i want someone who will love me more than i love them. “but,” i added, “i like to be alone.”

ms. son, the weakest english speaker, called me something i had never heard before. she called me a “초식남” (choshik-nam, which literally translates to “herbivore man“); it’s the hottest topic in conversations nowadays. the term trickled down from korea’s neighbor to the east, japan. in japanese, the word “sex” translates as “relationship in flesh,” so a man who is not interested in flesh is, obviously, an herbivore. accordingly, an “herbivore man” is someone who has little interest in dating or marriage. instead, these men in their 20s and early 30s spend most of their time working, dallying in hobbies, and self-grooming.

i sat there and listened to this. in the back of my head, the term chosik-nam just sounded like a code word for “homosexual.” i mean, am i right? or am i right?

how do i feel about being labeled an “herbivore man”? well…i suppose i’m fine with it. i am a little bit of a misogynist at times (even though most of my best friends are girls). and it does remind me of the line from the “english theatre festival” newspaper article—”william is very popular with the girls, but he is only interested in improving their english.” well, that and the fact that i’m not a pedophile.

all these terms…they’re all a bit silly, really. who comes up with them in the first place? a man doesn’t give a rat’s ass about a girl and she naturally assumes it’s because he’s not interested in all girls? one girl doesn’t agree to date a poor boy and therefore, the boy compares her to a traditional korean paste? don’t get me wrong, i love these terms and i’m fascinated by how new words go in and out of trend, but let’s get one thing very straight. i eat meat. a lot of it. you can interpret that however you’d like.