Private Equity Firms Strongly Disagree With This Attitude
There are some very large reasons why the “next Facebook” probably doesn’t come from South Korea. One reason is NOT the lack of educated, creative people. However, the ones that do exist are enormous. First, chaebol dominate everything in Korea. The evidence is abundant. Lee Kun-hee, chairman of Samsung, has publicly disagreed with a proposed policy which would provide funding for small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs). Second, private equity firms do not have confidence that they can monetize their investment at some point in the future. The case that they rightfully examine, and rightfully point to as evidence is the KEB – Lone Star debacle. The Seoul Gyopo Guide has detailed the underlying fact: you do not get to change your mind/policy after the fact, after a legal agreement has been reached, just because you do not like the outcome. That is particularly true when the policy changes as a result of popular opinion. That is precisely the way that private equity firms are looking at the the KEB – Lone Star situation. Lone Star took the risk, the outcome was uncertain at the time, and they rightfully deserve the reward for taking the risk at that time. Every other complaint, statement, etc is subordinate to this unchallenged concept. Every complaint, statement, etc looks anti-foreigner, and runs against fundamental economic principles. Period. Koreans also know that policy changes occur frequently on political whim. This is the behavior of an under-developed economy, not a sophisticated one.

The Recent Korea Times Article is a BAD JOKE
Incredibly, this article was published which stated, “Either way, Lone Star to be a winner.” That is not the way that Lone Star or other private equity firms, will view the situation. The fact is that every private equity firm has, is, and will question whether or not the Korean legal system will defend an investor’s rights, regardless of race. To suggest “well, you win anyway, no matter what the outcome,” is totally wrong. The investors could have used that money for other purposes, like trying to find the next Facebook in Korea. Importantly, investors would have certainty, and faith in the Korean system. Make no mistake: every single day that passes without a legitimate reason for a delay is seen as a negative. Take a simple example. You sell a Gangnam apartment, and agree upon a price. You wait 5 YEARS for the payment? During that time, what would you have done with the money, which was yours in the first place? Nothing? What if you could have used that money, and invested in something else that would have become more valuable during that time? Would you be happy? Nope. Yes, it really is as simple as that.

Not a Single Counterargument
The Seoul Gyopo Guide has challenged, prodded, BEGGED to hear a counterargument against any of the points that have ever been made here or any other forum. There has not been a SINGLE letter or comment or email to the Seoul Gyopo Guide over this matter. NOT ONE. That is really all you need to know.

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It’s Monday, and I show up to my hagwon’s teachers’ room at five-till-one. I look around and notice that two of the Korean teachers’ desks have been cleared out. Did they quit? I’m the only one in there at that point so I can’t ask anyone. I try to remember: Did either of them say anything to me about it last Friday? And then I remember that I did, in fact, talk to them, and we did the usual “Whatcha doin this weekend?” exchange, to which I WOULD expect “I’m quitting,” or something like that, but in fact, I’m fairly certain that ”Oh, nothing special” was the answer that I got.

Nothing special. That’s what the relationship feels like most of the time between the native English speakers and then Korean teachers. Don’t get me wrong: My co-workers are great. I get along with all of them. But there’s still a real level of separation between us. Before I get into it, I realize that some native English speakers really get along with their Korean co-workers and drink makgeolli on a mountain and have kimchi parties and play badu every Tuesday. I just haven’t met any of them.

So why is it so strange/awkward/indifferent between co-workers? I blame the situation on three factors:

1) The nature of hagwons

At 90% (maybe more) of hagwons, the native English speakers and the Korean teachers are fundamentally at different levels. We’re on different pay grades. We’re expected to do less work than the Korean teachers. We’re  given very little actual responsibility. The Korean teachers scramble between classes to make word lists and call parents, while we generally relax and grab our stuff for the next class.

You see the gap in the respect from the kids as well. They spend half my class trying to sneak-study for one of the Korean teachers’ tests, while they couldn’t care less what the foreigner at the front of the room is talking at (not talking to) them about.

The one-year contract is also part of the problem. It’s a unique situation when you can look at your job and your life and say “in one year, this will end and I’ll be doing something else.” You could dive in head first and really get to know everyone at work… or you could just figure that you’ll be gone n a year.

It goes the other way, too. My hagwon is an extreme case, but when I started my contract here in Busan six months ago, there were 7 Korean co-workers. Only two of those seven now remain, six months later. The hagwon is merely a stopgap or something temporary for most. Not a healthy environment to build friendship.

2) The mercenary attitude of the teachers

As English teachers in Korea, we’re mercenaries. We’re there, yes, to learn about another culture and, yes, to educate the children. But we’re also paid a lot, have a high standard of living, and have the opportunity to save money while still travel and live it up. Maybe we try to tell ourselves otherwise, but if it weren’t so lucrative, we wouldn’t be here.

On the other hand, the Korean teachers make about half of what we do, don’t get housing paid for, and – like I said before - are expected to do most of the work.

We’re also here because it’s something ’exciting’ and ‘different’ to do, as well as to save (somewhat) vast amounts of money, while our Korean co-workers are there… to make a living. Our co-workers listen to us talk about how we’re jetting out to Shanghai for a long weekend this week, and Vietnam a month or so later. Or about how we bought a new camera lens or a Ferarri (um… yeah). Of course there are exceptions and of course I’m exaggerating. But you know what I’m saying, right?

3) The language barrier

I have plenty of friends where English isn’t their first language. With MAYBE one exception, I’ve always been better friends with the ones that can speak better English. If I were making a graph, I’d put “level of friendship” on the y-axis and ”level of English” on the x-axis, and there would be a steadily increasing line with a slope of 1. I realize you can really hit it off with certain people, but it’s hard when you can’t fully express yourself.

An example is my relationship with my Korean co-worker Ann. I’ve always been very cordial with Ann. However, she’s not great at English, and I’m super-duper not great at Korean. Therefore, we exchange hello’s, speak about students (Jun is good! Judy is not good!) and say goodbye’s. Lots of smiles, though. I couldn’t help but view her as a quiet, nice but simple woman. But every time I see her with the students, a whole other side of her personality shows through. She jokes around with them (in Korean, of course), pulls out goofy facial expressions, and just communicates on a whole different level than what I see in the teachers’ room. The Ann teacher that I thought I knew wouldn’t have cracked those jokes and wouldn’t be the center of attention. It just shows how much I don’t know her, and how much I probably won’t get to know her.

These are all barriers that distance ourselves from our co-workers. At the end of the day, like any relationship, it takes work. Question is: how bad do you want it?

Introducing:

Thick Dumpling Skin

Now, I am not an Asian-American (obviously). However, I am an American woman who has spent a fair bit of time in Asian countries surrounded by Asian ideals of female beauty. I have also had my fair share of body image issues. So, while I may not be able to relate 100% to these beautiful ladies, Lynn Chen and Lisa Lee, I understand where they’re coming from and as a woman I appreciate what they’re doing to bring down negative body image.

The one thing I got so tired of hearing while abroad in both Japan and Korea came from women who I thought to be the epitome of slender gorgeousness. “I need to lose weight.” “I’m very chubby.”

As a heftier white gal in that situation I was quick to get annoyed.

For years I idolized the Asian concept of beauty. I yearned to be that small, that petite, that ‘feminine’. It was impossible for me, of course. I’m not a petite woman. I’m not short, and I’ve certainly never seen the scale speak to me at anything below 135lbs (61kg). I currently balance out at a (muscular if I do say so myself) healthy 145 (65kg).

I incorrectly assumed that the majority of Asian women were all enjoying these attributes that I couldn’t boast.

When I first went abroad to Japan I felt like an Amazon. Size 10 shoe (impossible to find in any shoe store), size 12 pants (I had to move up to super sizes and couldn’t shop for pants in department stores), and a 75kg (165) scale reading screaming at me every morning.

It certainly altered my already skewed image of myself.

I was always too miserable with my body to try to understand where my Asian girlfriends were coming from when they complained about their own bodies. They got no sympathy from me. I feel sorry now for not supporting them the way I wanted to be supported.

Over the years I managed to shed a few lbs, and slowly start seeing myself in a healthier light.

A trip back to Korea got me back in the dumps again with how I felt about my body.

Every time I flicked on the television while in Korea I was bombarded with starlets and pop-stars who looked as though they didn’t even have room for all the necessary organs in their bodies. In the beginning (back when I was a teen) I believed that this was just the norm for Asian girls. They were naturally skinny. End of story.

After a few months in Korea I slowly began to see how impossible these images of ‘beauty’ in Asia really were, I got less annoyed when one of my Korean friends mentioned their thighs, or pinched their cheeks and called themselves chubby. Instead of rolling my eyes at them, I started to do what I was so lucky to have people do with me. I listened.

I actually feel really blessed, when I look back and consider the environment that I was in when my self body image was so abysmal.

My parents never called me fat, they never commented on my weight. Even when I was at my heaviest they always told me that I looked fine, and that I was a beautiful girl. Even my brothers who were and are both in incredible physical shape never told me I was chubby.

When it comes to the big picture, I had loving people to support me through the rough spots. I want to be that kind of loving person to my friends when they find themselves looking in the mirror and not seeing something they like.

Instead of rolling my eyes or comparing flaws, I do what I do when I look at my own image in the mirror. I say something positive.

Do I still get annoyed when an Asian friend of mine says something about her size? Okay, I can’t lie. Yes. In my eyes they are still gorgeous. I can’t help myself. But, I’m slowly beginning to see where they’re coming from, what they’re up against, and how much support they’re lacking. The support that I always had.

No matter ethnicity, we are all women. The majority of us face those times when we don’t like what we see in the mirror. We’ve experienced being a slave to other people’s opinions of us. We are all affected by the media ideal of beauty, and we want nothing more than to be happy. Happy with our lives, happy with ourselves.

I am ecstatic to see “Thick Dumpling Skin”, because I see women coming together to support each other in the effort to abolish negative self-images, and to create a support system for those struggling with finding joy in themselves.

Reading their blog has helped me, even though I am not an Asian woman, understand some of the feelings I’ve had in my life. I realize that, in all actuality, I’ve never been alone. Skinny people saying that they’re fat have never exclusively surrounded me. Instead, I’ve been surrounded by sisters experiencing the same issues, the same battles, and the same triumphs that I have dealt with, and am dealing with now.

I hope that some of you girls reading this, despite race or nationality, will be able to find encouragement in “Thick Dumpling Skin” just as I did.

Please check it out, and enjoy muchly.

Until next blog,

~A.