East/West Relations

Despite my questionable residency in the eyes of some, Montreal is my home. I was born there, and though I was raised in Alberta, something never quite fit. I always felt mal a l'aise there. I grew tired of explaining to people that I wasn't a separatist, nor were my parents (despite the fact that such ignorant assertions made me sympathize with the separatist movement). I became annoyed that people could not understand that there was a difference between speaking French and being French Canadian. I developed an impatience for the government who propagated the idea that speaking French meant being French and being French meant being separatist. The Alberta goverment defines a francophone as an individual who's first language is French, or who has spent two or more years in a francophone school. According to the government, I was francophone. It's not that it's offensive, it's just that it's always grating to labelled something you're not. I have the same reaction here when people call me American, or Russian. When I arrived in Montreal, I finally felt comfortable. Speaking French was somewhere between a bonus and an expectation and no longer meant that I was in league with Rene Levesque. My last name, Bogue Kerr, was no longer a great mystery that would require lengthy explanations.

Being that my parents and I left Quebec shortly after the referendum of 1980, it is little wonder that I grew up hearing the tales of injustice done to the English people of Montreal. Bill 101 had just kicked in, and guaranteed that my very English father would face challenges in his career. My parents tell tales of the clear French/English divide down Boulevard St Laurent and find it difficult to believe that my Montreal is so different. There are still tensions, it's true. I found working in restaurants that I would always get good tips from French tables if they didn't hear me speak English, and good tips from English tables if they didn't hear me speak French. If my sections were mixed, my tips were mediocre. When Fred and I were apartment hunting, my messages left in French guaranteed a phone call back, while his English messages went unanswered. Sure, the Office de la Langue Francaise keeps itself busy running around to offices and checking to make sure the inter-office emails are sent in French, but all in all, from the point of view of a bilingual Montrealer, tensions aren't so bad. Once I stopped saying that I was from Calgary in interviews, I never had another problem finding a job. It is a little ignorant to assume that a Calgarian could not speak French, but it is less ignorant than assuming that Montrealers cannot speak English.

I had a rough introduction to Montreal, but it quickly became home. I am proud to live in a city that is so rich and so diverse. I knew it was unique in Canada, but I never thought that it was unique on an international scale. When I arrived in Korea, a Korean co-worker was studying Montreal in University, as a model of a bilingual city. Discussion surrounding how to make Seoul the next Montreal in terms of bilingualism was a popular topic at her school. She was absolutely shocked to discover that the politics of speaking French or English in Montreal were so complicated. Today a Montrealer who is born and raised there should speak both languages, but still many don't. The reality is that Bill 101 has given anglophones the upper hand. Anglophone children are going to school in French, so they learn to speak both languages fluently. Francophone children have no choice but to go school in French, and so they only learn French. I can't imagine being 25 years old and realizing I couldn't work in Toronto.

All that said, my point is this. The English language is artificially migrating all over the world in the name of progress. Languages are meant to evolve and change, but in an effort to keep pace with faster growing economies and an increasingly educated population, some countries are being pushed years ahead of where they actually should be. Korea has only just begun to accept foreigners into their country, but now we are here en masse. It didn't happen organically- it was forced. This country was devastated by war fifty years ago and they closed their doors to the world to rebuild. Up until 1980, Koreans were not allowed to travel outside of their country. It was a police state and they were striving to keep Korean money in Korea in an effort to rebuild the economy. When I look around, it is so difficult to wrap my mind around the rate of progress in this country. Soon after Koreans opened their doors to the world, English teachers began to trickle in. The country has quickly became Westernized, to the extent that children fail to realize where Korean culture ends and Westernized culture starts. But when two such different cultures begin to blend, we have to expect that there will tensions and challenges.

Before I arrived in Korea, I had heard that the police and media looked for excuses to pin things on foreigners. That in the media, foreigners were unfairly treated and torn apart. It makes me wonder, are they ready for Western culture? Are they pushing too hard? English teachers here have an E-2 visa, which allows us to work in a private English school, and prohibits us from working in other areas while under this visa. That also means that we are not permitted to take on private tutoring- a point of contention with foreigners and Koreans alike. Many Koreans don't have the time or the resources to attend private schools and seek out lessons with foreigners. The rule about private tutoring came about years ago because the media claimed that marriages were falling apart left, right and center because Western men were tutoring Korean women. Allegedly, these tutoring sessions resulted in affairs between Western men and Korean women, and as a direct result the institution of marriage in Korea was walking a fine line. I find it a little far fetched, but what can you expect? Rules were put in place to prevent this from continuing and most of all, to promote the conservation of the homogenous Korean race. As quickly as that issue was laid to rest, the next quickly took center stage. Western men were pushing their way off the plane, fresh from Canada or America and making their way through the streets of Seoul in hopes random women would begin throwing themselves at them. According to the Korean media, Western women were too independant and refused to care for their lovers, marry or have children, so they were forcing Western men to leave their countries in search of women in Korea. Korean women were caring, loving and subservient (said the papers), and that was what Western men wanted. But more then anything, Western men were here to deflower Korean women. The issue is ongoing and it is still taboo in the eyes of the older generations for Koreans to mix with Westerners. In the streets of Seoul, you see countless Korean women with Western men. But her parents usually don't know. I can understand the attraction between Korean women and Western men. The media almost got it right, but still missed.

Canadian women of my generation were raised to be strong and independant. Our mothers instilled in us the importance of standing on our own two feet. Of choosing a career path that we valued and never relying on a man to carry us along. But maybe we went too far. Many of us came to associate femininity with weakness, and so we suppressed it. We wanted so much to run with the boys that we came to embrace masculinity, leaving our feminine traits on the sidelines. We began to reject part of ourselves. I grew up a tomboy- and still am to some extent, and I remember being offended by being called feminine. I prided myself on being able to run as fast as the boys, but failed to realize that I didn't have to give up being a woman to do that. Feminism made many great strides in Western society, but that is one aspect where we seem to have fallen short. Feminism should be about choice. About choosing what it is you want for yourself, and being able to take that on without ostracism. But we still look at stay at home moms with a bit of pity. As though they aren't doing all that they dreamed because they're at home with the kids. If there's one thing that our generation should have learned, it is the value of having a parent at home. Maybe TV wouldn't have become a full time babysitter in so many houses if a parent could afford to stay at home.

Korean women have travelled. Many have spent time in Western countries and undoubtedly come back depressed. Freedoms enjoyed by Western women have yet to make their way to Korea. It is common for Korean women to have to ask permission of their husbands to go out with their friends. It is expected that they will do all the cooking and the cleaning. It is expected that they will have children and stay at home with them. It is expected that they will keep themselves delicate. Returning to Korea after time abroad is a difficult adjustment for most women. It follows that they would get on well with foreign men who won't have the same expectation of women's roles in society and in the home.

Some Western men, it seems to me, are at a bit of a loss to determine their roles. Women have developed independance to a point that relying on a man is no longer even a consideration for us. We've been raised that way. But men had little say in the changes that swept through the family homes and through society. Men have been socialized to believe that they are stronger than women- that they need to play the role of protectors. But we've asked them not to. We like to think we can take care of ourselves. Men will of course, always be physically stronger, but women have shown we can be just as strong in other ways. Many women are content being single mothers- making it increasingly common to raise their children alone. Our superwoman complex has put everything off balance. Of course it is possible for a woman to raise a child on her own, but that doesn't make it ideal. So we have taken from men both their roles as protector and provider, leaving them (I imagine) feeling a little unsure about what it is we want them to do. They're damned if they do and damned if they don't. A man standing up on the subway to give his seat to a woman could be seen as charming by one woman and chauvanistic by the next. Is it any wonder that they are relieved to find themselves in a place that has clearly defined roles?

In Korea, man is king. Korean men are raised to expect that one day their wives will be gentle, caring and attentive with them. Who would give that up for a woman who will tell you when she's going out, not ask? For a woman who might cook, but only if he does the dishes? The combination is like oil and water, they just don't mix. After all, I wouldn't take too well to a man who expected these things of me.

One of my biggest frustrations this year has been with the lack of respect shown for my culture. I recognize I'm a guest here, and I need to accept Korean culture. And I have made an effort, but I have to draw the line at some point. When I'm out and about in the streets of Seoul, I accept Korean culture. I absorb it, I enjoy it, I suppress my frustrations with it. But when I arrive at school, I quickly lose my patience. I have tried to stress to the Korean teachers and the children the importance of learning about Western culture if they want to learn the language. It is impossible to properly learn a language without a concept of how the culture works. But this has fallen on deaf ears. In my culture, it is rude to laugh at others because they are different. But try as I might to express this to my kids- and my co-workers, they simply don't understand. They not only fail to see an issue, but in fact feel that being different is an adequate reason to be laughed at. It is frustrating that because Korean society is so regimented and there are rules for who deserves the most respect, those of us who fall outside of the rules don't get respect. It is so difficult to remember that as frustrating as it is to be treated like a new and interesting play thing, it is simply because Koreans have yet to find a place for foreigners in their culture. Working out the kinks, I suppose. The line between Korean and foreigner is clear cut. After eleven months, I can't help but roll my eyes when I'm asked absolutely ridiculous things about my culture. Like if we sometimes eat dinner at restaurants. Or if we drink beer in pubs. As though all the McDonald's restaurants in Canada are only a facade because Canadians only eat in the privacy of their own igloos. Much like the old English/French divide in Montreal, the Korean/English gap is wide in Seoul. I wonder if in the years to come, Korean culture will change by leaps and bounds and find reconciliation not only with a new language, but also with a new culture. As I prepare to leave Korea, I feel a bit like I'm leaving home. I know I'll always have a soft spot for Korea and I look forward to coming back here in ten, twenty and thirty years and seeing first hand how much of an impact we made by being here. I hope to see many blue-eyed Korean children on my next visit.