Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 2.1

Adam from Ottawa has written to the Waeguk with several questions. The Waeguk will tackle them one by one, so let's get started. Adam's first question:
If these questions are being directed to a "Waeguk", what's the term for the people sending them?

The Waeguk Responds:

Your question may actually have more depth than you intended, Adam, touching as it does a chord which rings within most relatively homogeneous societies. "Waeguk" in Korea, "Gringo" in Mexico, "Mzungu" in Kenya... These are all terms used to differentiate between the historical inhabitants of a country or region and those who are new to it, and most typically passing through.

Of the three terms I've mentioned above, gringo is probably the best-known. In theory, it refers to citizens of the United States of America who are in Mexico, but in practice it is used to refer to just about any person who does not fit into the user's idea of what a Mexican should be. Gringos, therefore, are usually white people who do not speak Spanish as their native language.

In the three countries under discussion, skin colour is likely the easiest and fastest way of determining whose ethnic background differs from that of the majority. This doesn't mean to say that you can't be of a traditionally Korean appearance and and not qualify as a waeguk, but it does mean that someone on the subway would be much less likely to make that judgment of you before you open your mouth.

As best I can tell, Waeguk is not a pejorative. Neither, and again this is to the best of my ability to say, is Mzungu. Gringo, in part because of the long and interesting relationship between Mexico and the U.S. may be slightly harder to evaluate, but suffice it to say that (in my experience, al menos) although it may not always be a perfectly friendly term, it's not necessarily one used to indicate complete and utter disdain for its subject.

This rather lengthy preamble may seem slightly superfluous to the question at hand, but it's necessary, given the (inadvertent, perhaps) complexity of the topic.

If you were here in Korea asking me the question, Adam, you would be a waeguk also- though not, it should be said, the Waeguk, as I reserve the title for myself. But when you ask me from Ottawa, you are still a foreigner, but a foreigner in her own land lacks the same need for labelling, methinks.

Put it this way: under most circumstances, someone who's 6'8" is considered very, very tall. On a professional basketball team, however, he no longer seems exceptional, and thus is not noticed solely because of his height.

I'm tempted to dredge up some "self-referential paradox" lingo from my undergrad, but for our purposes I think we will simply refer to our correspondents as "Friends of the Waeguk." FOTW, should there ever be a need for an acronym. So that's question 1 taken care of, hopefully to your satisfaction.

Starts with a "K," ends with an "a"

Given my travels so far this year, it seems inevitable that I feel compelled to give my thoughts on a comparison of Kenya and Korea.

The question I find myself asking, however, concerns the best way to do this. The two most obvious option would be a humorous point-by-point look at the two countries in the "Kenya has cheetahs, Korea has chopsticks" vein. While not without merits, this approach runs the risk or reducing everything to its lowest comedic denominator, not something I particularly want to do with this topic especially.

So I think what I'm going to do is just do a kind of free-flowing ramble on the subject at hand and see what bubbles to the surface.

In one of my kindergarten classes the other day, I started humming "In the Jungle" as the students worked on their frog pictures. I was only a few bars in before some of the kids started singing along. Apparently it's one of the songs they've learned. It's also one of the songs I taught my Grade 5s in Kenya. The interesting thing, however, is that my middle-class students in Korea are more likely to have seen a real lion than my Kenyan students, despite the latter living a few hours away from one of the most famous wilderness preserves in Africa. Money, of course, is the eternal variable. The Koreans (and the Canadians, and the Europeans, etc.) can afford to go to the zoo, while the Kenyans at my school were struggling to get enough to eat.

This isn't meant as a "pity the poor Africans" post, nor a "damn those with money" one. If anything, it's more a reflection on the ridiculousness of modern life. The very fact that I can go from continent to continent so easily underlines how truly small our world is. Just because I can, however, doesn't mean I should. The environmental implications of air travel alone are staggering, to say nothing of the potential cultural ramifications of the linguistic imperial propaganda I carry with me. Of course, if I were truly concerned about either of these, I'd still be in Canada. And I'm not. But still.

I'm digressing now, so let's get back to the original Korea/Kenya question. Both make me think, assess myself and my place in the world, but for different reasons. Both make me laugh, and sigh, and leave me utterly exhausted at the end of the day.

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And so it is. More later.