Foreigner in a Foreign Land?

Foreign substance. Foreign object. Foreign affairs. Foreigner. Words like waitress, actress, Eskimo, Indian (meaning Native) and retarded have all mysteriously dissapeared from our vocabulary in a short period of time. I imagine they now find themselves lounging on an old, coggity beach with a slew of racial slurs that we have tossed from our speech in an effort to even the playing field. Many of the words seemed harmless and we scoffed when we first learned that fireman had become fire fighter. But the truth is that the meaning behind the words is what people have fought to change. Our language reflects who we are- how we view the world. As the British Empire raced to spread themselves across the globe, so has the English language. Although it's the Americans that have really stepped it up. English is an intensely complex language that has appropriated countless words from other languages. The suffix 'ess' (as in actress, waitress, stewardess) means 'less than'. So for years after the sexual revolution, we were still indicating that women were inferior by their job titles. Eskimo means eater of raw fish. As though you can sum up an entire people by their diet. Wouldn't it be horrible if Canadians were called grease eaters by the rest of the world? Most baffling to me is the use of the word Indian, meaning First Nations people. How did that word actually last so long in our vocabulary? How is it that no one pointed out that the only reason it was in use was the fact that Christopher Columbus was a very confused man? I don't know that I have ever looked at an Indian person and wondered if they were First Nations. How did he? Blinded by the skin tone, I suppose. But as the English language is exported across the world, we run into problems keeping up with the evolution. Printed in my phonics books are the words Indian and Eskimo- alongside pictures of what Koreans associate with these words. Of course because it drives me nuts, these are the words that kids pick up the fastest and repeat the most. Try as I might to change their wording, it never words. And then of course you deal with the terms left behind by teachers before you that perhaps were not as aware of the ever-changing language that we speak. Forgot to open the email maybe. Missed the billboards that were plastered about with the latest updates. I have tried - with some success, to get my children to stop calling the colour peach 'skin colour'. Of course the success depends on consistency and Korean teachers generally have little patience for our political correctness.

English is imperialist. It has seaped into homes and minds across the world like no other. It has come to be an indication of a person's education and social standing. But as much as it is finding its way into cultures across the globe, English has a polite respect and careful way that reflects the culture from which it comes. Rice is such an important part of the Korean diet that it is reflected in the language. There are numerous words for rice- although I only know one. One of their greetings literally means "Have you eaten rice today?". English has so, so many words that it is hard to pinpoint anything specific and say that we have many words for it. But what does stand out is the ever-changing correctness that, as ridiculous as it many sometimes seem, is really striving for equality. Western culture is difficult to explain to Korean people. They ask if we can tell the difference between Canadians and Americans, or the British and the French. They fear that they are offending us by even asking the question, but they really don't understand that there is no Canadian 'look'. As my kids flip through my photo album, they pause at the sight of Kenshi and Miranda. Kenshi is of Japanese heritage, but has lived most of his life as an American and the few years he's spent away have been masquerading as a Canadian. Miranda is half Vietnamese. But apart from Miranda's international trips, she has spent her entire life in Canada. The kids ask me where these people come from and look genuinely confused when I say Canada. Often times the kids insist that Kenshi is Korean- proving that sometimes even they cannot be sure of heritage. The kids don't seem to think that Fred looks any different from their vision of a Canadian- although some of my Korean friends have tentatively asked if it's okay that we're together. They see me as Canadian and him as foreign- despite the fact that Fred has spent his entire life in Canada. They are unable to wrap their minds around the idea of a culture that is not homogenous. Many are unable to fathom how we could both be so blind to the issue of race and simply don't understand that we are equally Canadian.

Over the last ten months, I have used and heard the word foreigner more times than in my entire life. And I contemplate the experience that someone foreign to Canada would have were they to live there for a year. I can't imagine any greater contrast. No one is foreign in Canada. When I daydream about walking the streets of Montreal in November (in my head November is a beautiful sunny month and I don't need a jacket) it is not white faces that I see passing me by. I contemplate the word foreign. It means something that doesn't belong or is out of place. I had a foreign object in my eye- it was an object that didn't belong there. As I walked by a bar last night (on the occasion of my 26th birthday, although my Korean co-workers insist that I'm older) I laughed at a sign over the door. "Foreigners welcome," it proclaimed. You don't belong here, but you're welcome. How strange. This was, of course in sharp contrast to the signs that indicated they did not welcome US military. We sat down for dinner- my Korean friends shocked that on my birthday I wanted to eat Korean food- and they asked how we celebrate birthdays in Canada. Why is there such a perceived difference between us and them? Apart from not speaking the same language and having a little more variety in our hair and eye colour, are we not the same? Why can't some things be universal? The desire to come together in times of celebration or grief is common to every culture, as far as I know. Why does everything have to be different? The question was innocent enough, but the birthday cards were equally strange. My friend Song passed me a beautiful gift and a card that expressed how lucky she felt that we were friends and asked me to stay in touch when I go home. She is a friend. My co-worker Kristine passed me a card that expressed how happy she was to have made a foreign friend and she hoped that when I go back to Canada she will not lose her foreign friend. Following the painful convention last week-end, she told me that she was so happy to work with us (Reg, Leslie and I) because the other foreigners at the meeting were not as good looking. And they were strange- with tattoos and piercings. I wished that I had a remaining piercing to shock her with. I look forward to going home and am anxious to break back into my Canadian lifestyle with my Canadian boyfriend. I can't wait to sit at a table in a coffee shop and listen to the different languages all around me. I'm going to rebel hard against Korean culture, but no one in Canada will know it. I'm going to wear a tank top. I'm going to stop painting my nails and let them break funny. I'm going to live, unmarried and unbothered by it, with Fred. I'm coming back with a tan so we might look equally un-Canadian in the photos I send back to Korea. I'm going to work out at the gym while Fred cooks dinner at home. And I'm going to take photos of all of it. I want the friends that I leave behind to know how Canadian culture is actually different- not how they perceive it to be. More importantly, I'm going to revel in the fact that I won't hear the word foreigner in my day to day life. I might even work on getting it tossed out of the English language alongside other outdated terms. We have no use for this word in English anymore. All of the English speaking countries are such a mish-mash of cultures and colours that its use only has negative connotations. The French word, etranger (stranger), is a little more friendly and perhaps even more appropriate. It's not that you don't belong, it's just that we don't know you yet.