Old School vs. New School

The entire time I've been here, I've been curious about what my co-teacher would say about my tattoos. Korean culture frowns upon them significantly. Or rather, it seems that perhaps it is the older, more traditional generation that tends to frown on them; after all, there are in fact tattoo shops to be found in Korea. The sentiment among the older crowd seems to be that tats are generally associated with gangs. Common images among Korean gang members are tigers and Biblical scripture. I learned that last tidbit from my co-teacher after I finally broached the subject with her yesterday.

The reason I asked was that the week before I arrived here, I got a tattoo on my upper arm, thinking that the placement was high enough that I'd be able to conceal it with a golf shirt. I didn't want to have to wear long sleeves for the next twelve months, especially after being welcomed to Korea by a heatwave that made me long for the cool (in comparison) breeze of Leon in Nicaragua. For crying out loud, during orientation, they gave us each a small towel to wipe the layer of sweat off of our faces every 15 seconds!

Despite the fiery climate, I wore nothing but long sleeves during the first week of school because I wanted to dress to impress. Once I started to settle in, I figured the school had gotten comfortable enough with me, and so I pulled a golf shirt out of my wardrobe. As I put it on, though, I looked over at my arm, and wouldn't you know it, about 2 cm of the bottom of the tat were visible to the world. I cursed myself and endured another week of long sleeves.

Finally, I decided I'd had enough, and I took a risk with a different golf shirt. This one actually did a decent job of covering everything up. And I didn't feel sticky and gross all over by lunch time.

The day went by and none of my students or co-teachers said anything about it, so I figured I was safe. After all, if I'm standing with my arms down, the tattoo is on the underneath area of my arm--the part that touches the torso; it's only when I point with my left arm that it becomes exposed. That was why I made a conscious effort to point with my right arm and not extend my left arm at all. The paranoia was totally worth the feeling of the fan's air blowing against my skin.

I initiated the conversation with my co-teacher after a hearty lunch that left us both in desperate need of a nap. I figured I'd ask her while she was at ease. Slowly swiveling around in my chair to face her, I asked her what Koreans think of those who sport ink.

She had in fact caught a glimpse of my tattoo sneaking out from under my sleeve. Essentially, her response was that it's bad. She informed me about the gang tattoo culture that's present in Korea, and I in return explained how in North America, there are many who view it as an art form that is rich in history.

From there, we went on to have a very open and honest conversation about tattoos and what they mean. I explained to her that for people such as myself, a tattoo is an intimate reminder of something profoundly important to your life; it's to honour, remember, or celebrate something or someone.

As I explained the significance of each of my tattoos to her, I could see that she was trying very hard to be understanding. I didn't even mind that she had a terrible poker face about the whole situation, because despite not agreeing with me, she didn't talk down to me or try to shame me. Instead, she tried to educate me about her own perspective. She told me about a traditional custom among the older generation where males don't cut their hair out of respect to their elders (and/or ancestors). They are meant to keep their bodies pure. Hence, why tattoos would be frowned upon.

This  fascinated me for two reasons. The first was that this made me appreciate her attempt at understanding my ideas on tattoos that much more; she comes from a different generation, and while she holds strongly to those values, customs, and traditions, she doesn't pass judgement on others who think differently. I love my co-teacher.

The other reason this notion of tradition resonated with me was that it reminded me of what she did during Chuseok (read: Thanksgiving week): She went into the mountains to visit the graves of her ancestors, which is what pretty much every Korean does during Chuseok, other than go visit their grandparents.

During that conversation, she told me that traditional custom states that your elders be buried in the mountains, however in recent years, this tradition has started to die down among younger Koreans in favour of cremation. It seems that many long-held beliefs are being challenged more and more by a modern, Western influences. I mean, as I said earlier, there are even tattoo shops found here. I wouldn't be surprised if that's a somewhat relatively new development in the culture here.

The fact that South Korea is currently being led by its first ever female President in Ms. Park Geun-hye also has to speak volumes to the cultural shift taking place right now.

Then there's the way children are treated in schools these days. While some schools still turn a blind eye to teachers who hit their students, this idea is frowned upon now at many schools. Kids seem to be allowed more freedom to be kids these days. It's not uncommon, at least at my school, to walk into a classroom as the bell rings to find a couple kids wrestling; students wear their hats; middle school girls chronically check their hair using a hand-held mirror they keep in their desks. This is not how things used to be, according to my co-teacher.

I'm not sure what all of this means for the history and the future of Korea and their respective places in the cultural landscape, or what Korean customs will look like down the road, but I do know that this seems like a very intriguing time to be here; the cultural environment is changing quickly and drastically. South Korea is a nation trying to figure itself out. As a Canadian, I can relate.