Approved for Adoption

Sunday I met Miwha and her girls for lunch and then we went to see the Belgian cartoon artist Jung present his work at Koroot.  He and a documentary film crew are in Seoul filming the live action parts of this hybrid film.

As a mom of an animator, and as someone trained in architecture who’s lived the tedium of creating 3-d animations, witnessing Jung’s process was really really interesting!  How I wish David had been with me throughout the whole presentation.  Fortunately Jung will not be doing the production on this film, but communicating his vision for the 4 animation production houses (1 of them Korean)  has taken over a year, and the year prior to that was spent on a trailer and trying to find funding and distribution.

He walked us through many of the storyboards, showed us the test sequences for choosing whether or not to go 3-d or 2-d animation, showed us character profiles for all the main characters – which included front, back, side, and lip-sync formations, as well as all the dozens of support characters and their studies, and painstakingly detailed backgrounds of his home and scenes of Belgium.  Then, we got to see test animations of his own character (the film is autobiographical) rendered at different frames per second, and how he chose between the different production houses for the final animation. All told, thousands of hours of painstaking work behind the scenes for which the production animators will spend the next year making it come to life.

Amazingly, he got most of his funding based on his trailer pre-view, which was so polished I think the story is the distributors thought it was an already complete piece and when they found out it wasn’t, helped him find financial backing.

Afterward I bought his book, stood in line, and got my copy signed.  Miwha and the daughter who will major in art also enjoyed the presentation, even though they can’t understand French and could barely understand the English translator.   We were all quite enamored with the artist and his film is going to really be beautiful when it is finished.  I believe he said Sony Pictures might be interested in U.S. distribution, so let’s cross our fingers!

Always, I am struck by how  adoptees have dealt with this thing that happened to them.  And by the time they get to my age they have mellowed a bit and want to purge this out of their system.  Jung said his cartoons kept returning to Asia but never addressed adoption.  And then, when he did address what adoption did to his identity, it kind of just took over everything, culminating in this movie.   But he said he always he wanted to keep a sense of humor.

I can identify with that.

Every day I pray to the supreme beings that I can be mellow, graceful, and have a sense of humor.

On the way home Monday morning, (it was 5:40 a.m. at the Changyangnni train station) I had the surreal experience of watching the U.S. AFN(Armed Forces Network) t.v.  while sitting with a bunch of other Koreans, all of them blankly staring ahead, registering and barely understanding.  It wasn’t nearly as surreal as Jane’s hilarious post, Adoptee goes to work , but you know SO MANY DAYS are surreal like that, and we don’t always have our cameras and pen at hand.  (and I can’t figure out how to send my camera phone photos to myself)

One, it’s just weird that U.S. military t.v. is showing in a huge  public space, two that it’s totally in English so nobody viewing it can understand, and three that it’s really like a local t.v. channel from anywhere U.S.A. (except for the p.s.a.’s which tell you not to cook in your barracks because it causes fires)  I mean, there were actual restaurants serving western food and advertising with western-style commercials and advertising IN ENGLISH!  And things to do and places to go and again, barely any indication that it was in Asia at all.  The entire thing was so totally American it was even cleansed of Koreans.  I mean, they barely showed up at all…Clearly, the military personnel are having a totally different experience here than I am!

On it, I watched some show about how being white’s not always a great thing, and it focused on the plight of albino’s around the world, who everywhere experience ostracism and are targets of abuse.  In Sierra Leone a lot have been killed or had their limbs whacked off.

One of my friends who wants to adopt insists that race doesn’t matter.  OK.  So all that crap I had to deal with growing up, I guess it was just a figment of my imagination.  I mean, maybe he’s right in that biologically we are descended from the same race but when people looked at me growing up, they didn’t know about this science and besides, nobody’s going to send a sample of your hair in for DNA race testing prior to judging you.   So if I give in to the argument that race doesn’t matter, I will still maintain that response to color matters.

Back in college I had a professor who spoke about his theory of prospect and refuge:  it was all a very academically stretched out thesis about the primacy of architecture (hiding in the forest) as a construct to protect us from dangerous elements beyond.  The brain’s process of categorization was a self-protective mechanism to differentiate between friend or foe.  So those that look like us (those immediate and familiar) are safe while those who are different we’re supposed to be wary of…makes sense that this might be a natural tendency.  Geographical borders and climate may have contributed to the formation of distinct cultures and races, but still that primal need to categorize remains.  As civilized people who cross borders, we have to work to suppress our prejudices and find ways to test trustworthiness based upon character.

So here we have the rainbow-loving world wanting us adoptees to believe that color doesn’t matter, that everyone is above this primitive urge to categorize, or similarly educated as them (right) to deny these urges.  But the people proposing this are the ones who get to continue enjoying everything immediate and familiar, while the adoptee is the one who is viewed by everyone as one of those, those others.  They rationalize transracial adoption is great because rainbow families will help make the world color-blind, but again it is the children who are forced to bear the burden of this fantasy.  In this way, we are part of a social engineering experiment.

Unlike eugenics, where the purity of race was actively maintained and pursued through discriminate breeding, the rainbow family will blur the distinctions between colors.   But for the adopted child, this is actually really like eugenics in that in it’s denial that color (race) matters, it obsesses about color (race). It’s like deciding you want to improve yourself by going on a diet, so as soon as you do, all you can see is food everywhere but you’re trying to deny its fact.  The more people protest that color (that non-item representation of race) doesn’t matter, the more it becomes clear that it most definitely matters, and especially to them!

Sometimes I wonder why people want to adopt children of other colors.  I often wonder if it really has nothing to do with rainbows.  I sometimes wonder if what they really want is a sun tan.  It’s a sun tan wish fulfillment.  It’s tan by association.  Or in the case of international adoption maybe the desire for a tan is also added to the desire to stand out from the (white) crowd.  It’s a wanting-to-be-special wish fulfillment.  It’s exotic by association.

People will tell me, aghast, that it’s none of the above – that they merely want to help!  But when you point out ways they can help preserve families, or help foreign countries become social service autonomous, or sponsor children in third world countries, etc., they suddenly aren’t interested in helping.  If there’s no direct benefit for them, they cease being interested.

If I were a smarter girl, I’d find some nice tidy way to politically connect the AFN t.v., Korea, and tan-loving, Cost-Plus shopping,  I-donate-to-Salvation-Army-at-Christmas-time white people , but I’m not.  I only know how it feels to be a transracial international adoptee.

So I just got back from the hardware store, where I picked up a wooden shovel handle and a rake.  (for the cigar box guitar project)  I was finally able to find a place that sold slabs of every hardwood under the sun, but it’s in Incheon, which is about 3 hours away.  Supposedly the head teacher has located a place in Masan, which is about a half hour away, but he’s yet to give me the details.  That will be for the electric guitar, which will need the thin hard wood neck, and that’s far off in the future.  The Havana Honey 3-string I might end up using a broomstick for.  And the hanji octagonal box – haven’t decided how I’m going to make its neck, but it will probably be from those handles I bought today.  I also bought some added cardboard to make the resonator box with.

The hanji box is going to look really beautiful when it’s finished…let’s just hope it plays!

At some point I need to buy a drill and a vice and a plane.  So sad.  I had all those things in Seattle before I left.  I even had a pattern-makers vice and a band saw and a workbench.  (sniff, sniff)

In my little farming town hardware stores come as frequently as Starbucks in Seattle.  I’ve been to at least five of them.  And they all have the same things, and one of them has a lumber yard.  Unfortunately, farm implements and softwood timber are not great for instrument making.  And the tools are NOT about precision anything.  I wonder how many farmers here farm by hand like the old man in Old Partner.  I’m guessing quite a few, from the amount of scythes and pruning saws laying out for sale.

The hardware guy at this one store must have been really amused by my agonizing over which rake or shovel to buy, eyeing it for straightness, running my hands up and down for rough spots, inspecting the finish, etc.  One customer thought I worked there and kept asking me the price for things.  After, the shop owner asked me if I was Japanese because I couldn’t speak Korean, and I told him I was American.  And then he said, but you look Korean, and I explained that I was ibyeong-a.  And he accepted it with neither pity or sorrow or recrimination.  How refreshing!  What a nice guy.

This got me to thinking of the article I posted on Holtsurvivor this morning, about a high school for unwed moms, started by the government and connected with Ae Ran Won unwed moms home.  The comments by English-writing Koreans are absolutely astounding, calling the girls sluts.  And the translator who posted the article defends them by explaining that they are being satyric;  that their comments are a commentary on Korean society.

And that got me to thinking about how the adoptees want to be called ibyeong-in because they don’t like being infantalized and thus further disempowered by being called adopted child.

But for me, the disempowerment is not in the semantics of child vs. person. The disempowerment is in ibyeong. Even if we are referred to generically as people instead of children, the stigma remains.  We are throw-aways.  We weren’t raised with proper family values (as if that’s our fault).

So in a weird way, I kind of agree with the guy’s appraisal of the shocking comments about the unwed moms.  That’s just the way it is here.  I think we should just be called trash:  that would be a better reflection of how we are really viewed, and it would also be in-your-face honesty.  See why adoptees + unwed moms are allies?  We KNOW marginalization.  We feel each other.

Prior to summer vacation I’d mentioned to the proactive teacher that the evening conversation class with students kept me from being so lonely at the last school and that maybe that would be a good idea here.

When I got back to school, she informed me that there was money in the budget to buy teacher’s aids and that she’d talked to the principal and the students and that I could have an evening class.  Yayy!

But then the next day she informs me that the principle wants a low level class AND an intermediate class.  Okay.  I don’t know how I’m going to conduct a low level conversation class, but I’ll try.

Then a few days later, she informs me that the principle doesn’t feel once a week is enough and that I should have it twice a week.  I should have monitored myself better, but I just went with it instead of listening to the warning bells going off in my head.  Living in this society turns a person into a child again.  It turns you either into a pushover or someone on the rampage…

And the worst part is, that unlike in the last school where my class was at the beginning of after-school classes, these ones are at the end.  So that means I am now at school from 8 a.m. to 9:30 pm twice a week.  And I already stay 2 hours late, from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. so I can eat the inexpensive and balanced dinners at the school.

On top of that I’d signed up for a gayageum (12 stringed Korean zither) class for foreigners every Saturday.  Which is great and all, but not exactly a hobbyist instrument, as it’s huge, super-expensive to own, and not portable.  And is not great because it’s in Gangnam, which is a really inconvenient commute.  On the plus side I’ll get to interact (and speak in English!) socially with some foreigners who aren’t just party animals.  Since the class only costs $30 I suppose I can easily drop it if it gets to be too much.

So I’ve gone and over-scheduled myself again.  Really, all I want to do is work on my projects.  I think the first thing we’ll see neglected is this blog.  I’m just hoping I can keep on top of the laundry and basic hygiene…

So in the recent past I’ve read a few articles by expats about how culture shock is the visitor’s own fault and that they need to actively try harder to incorporate themselves into society and be more accepting.  I can appreciate that.  But what if you do and you decide that despite all your best efforts and attempts at being open, maybe you just don’t like it here?

A returned person has high hopes and expectations.  Couple that with the prejudices against returnees, and it makes returning especially difficult.  Even among the foreigners who marry and stay, I’d say over half don’t intend to make that permanent.  Being raised in the west, there are just some things that are unacceptable.  Being that all the people I care about are still in the west, making a commitment to change things here doesn’t really make personal economic sense.

The other day a student asked a sort of non-sequitor question.  “Why don’t you speak Korean?”  I explained how I’ve only taken about four months of lessons and been here a year and a half.  I explained how unfair it was that Koreans judge me for not knowing Korean after such a short time when they have had 6-8 years of English and still can’t speak it.  I explained how every person learning to communicate in another language needs practice, and that nobody here will speak Korean with me.  To which the passive  co-teacher said (rather patronizingly while chuckling) why would they because “we know you don’t speak Korean!”  She told the kids something, but as always it was chaotic in her room and nobody seemed to care.

In the next class I told the class I was in a bad mood and explained what happened in the previous class.  The proactive teacher did a good job translating this and it registered with some of the kids.  One boy came to my desk afterward and took it upon himself to open a book of mine and explain what mountain and apple were, which I already knew, but I thanked him anyway.  I couldn’t explain to him that vocabulary wasn’t what I needed, but communicative speech was what I needed.  Useful, meaningful interaction is what I need…

Today after class the proactive teacher took me aside and counseled me that there was a problem with my shirt and, apologizing, said that she could see my breasts.  “Korea is a conservative society.”  So I’m wearing TWO shirts exactly because of this reason. I AM TRYING!  The undershirt with the scoop neckline, I guess, being too low and exposing a tiny bit of cleavage.  It was all I could do to not snap back – what do you want, you want me to wear a birka?  I bought this shirt IN KOREA.  Why do they sell things that are unacceptable to wear?  I wouldn’t be wearing two shirts in America on a hot summer day!  And the only reason I have this cleavage is because I’m wearing a stupid Korean bra, which all have stiff padded shapes to them.  It’s like you can’t win for losing, unless you want to dress like a nun.  And excuse me, wearing a spaghetti strap undershirt beneath chiffon like some do is a lot more revealing than this combination I’m wearing today.

There are a billion things I try to be understanding about.  A thousand jolts to my system that I write off and dismiss and let slide and roll off my back.  But these two things – maybe not so important to others – are almost essential to my being.

Don’t get me wrong – I love it here in the country.  I really like most Koreans.  I’m beginning to get a feel for how things work.  I have real sympathy for the students.  I actually adore the students.  I love the culture.  But some things about this society are UNTENABLE to me.  And will be today, six years from now, and ten years from now.

I think it all boils down to:  How dare you judge me so superficially.

I really need an exit plan.

I just finished watching Old Partner.  It was one of the most amazing documentaries I’ve ever seen.  I really liked how it just watched.  No judgements.  Just watched and recorded.  I didn’t have the benefit of English subtitles, and I know they would have enhanced the film, but they also totally weren’t necessary.  It was released on DVD just recently, so if it comes to your video rental store do not hesitate to check it out.

And here’s an excellent write-up with director interview from the LA Times, written during it’s 2009 independent film run.

I’d also like all my friends and family to watch it, because the images are exactly what it’s like here in the country.  Granted, I don’t see any 80 year old men riding behind 40 year old beasts of burden, but the scenery, THE SOUNDS, and the shacks, etc. are really what it’s like here. The movie was filmed in central Korea, so the spaces are a little more wide-open looking, as in the background here you’ll see furrowed mountain ridges in every direction, but everything else is what rural Korea is like.

It’s beautiful.

Here are some more observations of country life:

The older people are definitely part of the landscape.  Literally.  They spend the greater part of their days outdoors, rain or shine it seems.  Theirs is a rich social life, and they’ll always be hanging out with each other talking endlessly and watching everything happening on the street.  Little conversation circles are at every street, fanning themselves, chatting.  Where there is no sitting platform, or beat up chairs to pull outside, they will squat and chat.  There’s something very genteel about it all.

The kids seem to motate (word we used as a kid) in groups of 4-6.  From the looks of it, they take their good old time going home after school and hang out together.  The kids here in the country actually can be real teenagers, unlike the ones in metro Seoul.  The other day four girls passed by and offered me some wilted, crushed wildflowers.  In answer to my confused look, they showed me their nails, which had been dyed a mercurachrome (for those of you youngun’s, that was this orange-red tincture you’d place a few drops onto wounds and it had antiseptic properties.  I just looked it up and it was discontinued because it actually had mercury in it!)  There were two varieties, the mercurachrome stung really bad and the other was less effective but didn’t sting.  They both left an orange stain, similar to that stuff they paint on you prior to making incisions during surgery.  It stung enough to not want to report an owie to your mom…) color from the crushed up stamen and pollen.  I don’t know if this is a traditional Korean nail polishing method, or just something bored country kids do for fun!  They also find hidden passageways between walled courtyards to go smoke, and the boys especially spend as much time as they can in the PC bangs playing video games.

Butterflies abound out here.  I’ve never seen so many and such a great variety.  Butterfly nets are actually a viable children’s toy and are available at all the hardware stores.

They say that frogs are an indicator species about the health of wetlands.  I hear frogs all the time, and crickets, and cicadas, and who knows how many kind of birds’ songs.  Open the window with the fan running, and the sound of the nearby pine forest still manages to overcome the sound of the fan.  Nature is soooo noisy!  It’s really nice.

Voices carry.  The wind whips through these valleys, carrying the sound of its inhabitants.  Usually, it’s the sound of the neighbors in the Tulli-shaped building, who are practically living with me.  Other times, like during some event (the world cup championships was ridiculous) the many cheers of people are like this weird spooky howl whistling past, reverberating in spite of all the foliage.

Despite the abundance of rice fields and farm irrigation and lots of rain, there is surprisingly little mosquito problem here.  There was much more in Anyang, with rain water collecting on flat roofs.

All through July the banks of the river were covered with tents.  Locals who want to camp but don’t live next to a stream seem to camp there, since the river is the community’s swimming pool.  The banks have been covered with concrete, so I can’t imagine it’s a comfortable sleep, but given how some Koreans still sleep on the floor without even a mattress or padding under them, then maybe it’s not so bad to them.  I failed to photograph this, but it was quite an interesting sight.

It’s rained so much the past two weeks that the water is above the banks and up to the tree trunks and stair access.  The stepping stone bridges are totally covered.  Nearby in gangwon province on the Han is rafting.  I bet it’s an awesome time to go rafting…

Corn season has pretty much passed, and now all the pepper plants are ripe and ready for picking.  It’s unseasonably rainy, so I don’t know where or how they’re going to dry all the peppers.  The rice has fully gone to seed and I bet as soon as it stops raining, they will cut the irrigation and let the stalks dry.  I don’t know when harvest time happens, but I hope to see it. I’m sure there will be tables of makkolli and work parties then.

In my movie queue:

Treeless Mountain

It’s about two girls whose mom takes off, leaving them with an aunt who manipulates them.  It’s about the hopes of kids.  I’m watching it to get yet another impression of Korean society’s portrayal of single moms.  Will let you know if/when I get the time to watch it.