Korean as a Second Language:
Charades is an art form, which I have become the Picasso in Korea. With every wave of my hand, stroke of my finger and impressionist expression of my face, I am able to get by daily.
My Korean is limited, if we had to classify it, I would say that I was like a toddler in my vocabulary. My ability to read hangul characters gives me a minor advantage.
Pine-uh-ap-ul. Pineuhapul. Pineapple! Hooked on phonetically speaking.
My illiterate self pushes random buttons on my everyday appliances to do the most mundane such as washing my clothes. I peruse menus at restaurants looking for Korean words I recognize, such as mandu, bibimbap, kimbap, chicken etc. Going shopping at stores can be all about brand recognition and part risk taking.
I have looked doe-eyed at cashiers, waitresses, cab drivers, sales people when they spoke to me in Korean.
My students have helped me with pronounciation of words and were proud that I could at least read hangul.
My Korean coworkers have corrected me in a gentle manner, with no condecending tone, when I mispronounce a phrase.
I have said "ne" to things and "aneyo" to others. Having no clue what I was in agreement or disagreement of.
Then there is the universal language of numbers, in which calculators are whipped out or pieces of paper and pen that translates what it is I need to pay.
I can count to ten. Just like a three year old. But there are different numbers for different things, when I should be using Sino or Pure Korean numbers.
I prefer to hold up my hands.
In general, Koreans appreciate that I am trying.
When I arrived to Korea, I thought about how my mother must have felt, the day she immigrated to America. Not knowing the language, the culture, or a soul. I think about her everyday that I have to gesture for the simplicities. Which is every day.
Considering my limited vocabulary, I have not been yelled at in Korean as if I was deaf. For some reason Americans love to yell at foreign speakers. No laughter when I mispronounce something. There has been no frustration and tense expressions when I am not understood.
I have felt lost and bewildered. Frustrated at my own inability to speak, not to be confused with a frustration of Koreans inability to speak English. I don't expect them to. Which is something some expats over here need to get a grip on.
Instead of being met with hostility, I have been treated with kindness and patience. Something that Americans could learn.
We are the land of immigrants, we tout. Yet we shun the outsiders, creating a culture that contradicts our very existence by insisting that someone learn English when they come to the U.S. We complain about making concessions for foreign language speakers in our schools, hospitals and places of business. All because it is not convenience for us. English laden with accents are met with colorful insulting commentary unless it is of a European nature, then it is tres' chic. But if it is someone who says "pine uh ap ul", we concentrate on our own discomforts instead of focusing on how someone is doing their best to meet us where we are.
My mother told me once, that a dissatisfied customer told her to "Go back to China!" Which is highly inaccurate but also extremely offensive.
Is that who we are in America?
I guess people may worry about my safety or well being in Korea and I admit, I also had my own trepidations after reading all the "horror" stories in Korea.
As Americans, do we expect to be treated as we treat others? Maybe so and therefore explains the self-inflicted fears.
Being well aware of me being American, a foreigner, albeit in my birth country of Korea...I find it astonishing how many foreigners choose to live in their western bubbles. Only eating western food, gawking at Korean customs, being overly opinionated about the culture and overall negative and creating a self-imposed exile for themselves.
By no means do I suggest that we lose ourselves when we move to a foreign country but I do ponder why would anyone move to another country and not be willing to become a bit vulnerable to change. Or at the bare minimum, be respectful of a culture.
Yes there are enclaves in most major cities of ethnic neighborhoods catering to the lifestyles of the hopeful and foreign. I would also argue that most people who come to America do their best to assimilate out of desire and necessity to be woven into the American fabric.
Let's really think about how many Americans only know how to speak English. That's it and hell, we can't even speak that correctly at times. We are so self-absorbed. We discourage bilingual education, yet careers are in demand for bilingual speakers. And we wonder where all the jobs are going. People all over the world can speak more than just one language and I am amazed with anyone who can speak English as a second language and all it's complexities.
It is written in many guide books on Korea and websites, that some Koreans may know English but may be apprehensive to speak it due to the lack of fluency.
Probably because some westerner will make fun of them.
Case in point. My mother swears up and down that her English is "not so good", as she puts it.
After 29 years of living in the U.S. that of course is not true. What she is however, is self-conscious about her accent or how she is perceived by native English speakers, so I have had situations where she has all but become mute in unfamiliar settings.
My Korean translated today in the store:
Me: Hello
Shopkeeper: Hello, how can I help you?
Me: Cell phone. buy.
Shopkeeper: (This is where he said a bunch of stuff I had no idea)
Me: Do you speak English?
Shopkeeper: No, sorry.
Me: simple and cheap. (I pointed to my phrase book after butchering it)
Shopkeeper: (Again, saying a whole lot but I did understand that he wanted to know what kind of phone and service I wanted)
Me: Two. (I used Sino and Pure Korean numbers and held up two fingers trying to explain contract terms)
Shopkeeper: (A whole bunch of Korean...then he pointed me to the ones with English menus or something)
This conversation went on and on for awhile, with me leaving without a phone, not due to translation but just the prices.
My point is, I sounded ridiculous. This man did not get frustrated with me or treat me as an idiot. Nor did he try to rip me off, as some people in America would do to a confused foreigner. He was patient as I flipped through my rather worthless phrasebook and used the very limited English he had to help me out and didn't get mad when I didn't buy a phone.
Afterwards, I went to the Aveda section at Lotte and bought some much needed hair product and the sales girl was super friendly and spoke the English she knew and I spoke the Korean I knew.
It is about being open. Being willing to learn and meet people where they are. She gave me a few samples after I made my purchase and said to come back soon with a gracious smile and slight bow.
As time passes on here, I am understanding my mother's life more, although I think my situation is a whole hell of a lot less scarier as her experience has been in America.
Honoring my ancestors on Chuseok, Korean Thanksgiving. Love you haraboji and halmoni. Peace be with you.
There is nothing like coming home to something furry and cute. For laying with me and making me laugh. For being my personal alarm clock every morning. And greeting me everyday when i come home. For following me around and just wanting to be next to me. My terrible twosome Lint (not pictured) and Lola. Love you for being such brave kitties when you got haircuts. 
Ahh Lotte, you will be the death of my wallet. Thanks for the free samples and keeping my skin absolutely fab. My bedding will be my sanctuary in these cold months ahead!
For my family that never knew anything about me for 30 years but my name and country of residence. Who made sure I was well fed every hour on the hour. Thank you Sumo for the tub of kimchi, I will never finish it... because it is just me. For my cousin with limited English, who makes me laugh. To my uncle who reminds me of my mother. With each visit, I feel closer to her.
Korea, your resilience astounds me, your spirit to perserve and maintain your culture and heritage amidst Western influences and past Japanese rule. I love your oxymorons and contradictions.
This is Seoul Tower, where lovers scribble their names, their hopes and fears...through away the key and forever it is there.
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